Talkin' trash or talkin' smack. I've never had much of a taste for the art. Mostly because more often than not if I did it usually came back to bite me, actually my team, in the ass. Always figured it was better to keep my mouth shut and see how things played out. I mean, you never want to piss off the baseball gods. As sports fans we've all experienced the moron at the sports bar or the ball park or even in the office space, who rants on an on about how great their team is, that they're #1 and you suck, blah blah blah. As he's blathering on you sit there trying to come up with a legal argument for justifiable homicide.
So I've kinda come up with an analogy for trash talking. Trash talking is much like spending all your hard earned money each week on buying a case of Charles Shaw wine (aka, "Two Buck Chuck"). Sure you drink it all the time and you get a little, and I mean, a LITTLE enjoyment out of it but usually you end up with a bad taste in your mouth and a headache the next morning. Conversely, keeping your mouth shut and focusing your energies and superstitions towards your team, it's like putting your money into a very nice, big Cab from Bordeaux, France. But instead of pulling the cork on opening day you store it for a while (the season). Just letting it age nicely, quietly all the while the rest the loud mouth jerks are chugging down stuff even the church wouldn't offer up for Communion. I mean why celebrate the little victories with the cheap stuff when you can savor a championship with the good stuff?
When the baseball gods look upon your team and elevate them to the summit of Mt. Olympus, that Bordeaux you've been saving is now the sweet nectar of the gods. Just remember, moron, everything you say during the game, oh heck, during the season, is just "Two Buck Chuck", or as the French would say "Le Crap". So at the end of the season, after the last strike of the last out of the last game, when my team sits atop of the mountain, looking down upon all those that failed, anything I say about my team is the truth. "We're number one!" Yeah, that one pretty much speaks for itself. It's kinda like DNA, you can't argue with it. I really don't care about the other teams. Why would I have anything to say against them? For one, it's unsportsmanlike but more importantly, nothing I say could be any more devastating or hurtful than having to live with the harsh reality that their team lost and the records will show, for all eternity, that they lost. No amount of Two Buck Chuck can blot out that memory.
Thank you, San Francisco Giants, for making a boyhood dream come true...... TWICE!
YOU ARE THE CHAMPIONS!! And that ain't smack!
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