12 hours ago
I'm starting to think that Bill Simmons is my Mr. Henshaw. All I ever do is write him hate mail, and he never responds. He also never takes me advice to stop sucking, to heart.
Lately, whenever his team bombs, I no longer can look forward to the postmortum. Because he just blows right by it. I want long, drawn out missives on his tumble towards devastation. He didn't fail to disappoint after Super Bowl XLII. But since then...nothing. The Celtics lose to the Lakers--he prints a mailbag. The Pats miss the playoffs, he disappears for a week. The Yanks get every ball player in the Major Leagues, he covers pro wrestling. WTF. If I have to suffer through a whole season of his manic irrationality, then I should be rewarded with a concession of defeat.
I'm not sure how I'll react after he inevitably appoints himself President of the World of Bruins Diehards. But I do know the backlash will be brutal, unforgiving, and have tortuous implications that bring to mind Saw cinematography.
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