Does your brain ever hurt after long periods of exposure to Tim McCarver?

Well, you have ears. So, obviously. Stupid question.

How about this one: Have you ever looked at Brett Favre’s name and felt like something there wasn’t quite right? Maybe something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Like, perhaps, the fact that its spelling bears no relation to its pronunciation? But maybe you felt like, “Well, no one else seems to mind. Why should I be the one to rock the boat?” But, still, you knew, on some really fundamental level, that it was making you stupider?

When someone shoots a t-shirt gun into a crowd at a sporting event, do you find yourself wondering why everyone else seems so excited about it when all you can think is, “What the hell, t-shirt gun guy? What did I ever do to you?”

Finally, and most importantly, do you think that playing for the Yankees is not enough to actually make someone a real Yankee—that a player has to actually earn that status by having character and heart and grit and the good sense to never frost his tips?

If the answer to any of those questions is yes, then it’s possible that you’ve stumbled upon the right blog. (If the answer to all of those questions is no, I have to assume that you’re from Boston.)

For readers of my old blog—You Suck Coco Crisp—you don’t need to worry. This isn’t going to be one of those bad spinoff-type situations. Like a Golden Girls to Golden Palace or Brady Bunch to Brady Brides. Think of it more like Diff’rent Strokes to Facts of Life or Cheers to Frasier. The same—but better.

For those of you who are new to my blog, all of my old entries are archived on this site if you want to catch up. You can also find a glossary of terms, expressions and principles above, which should be of some assistance when I use language previously established on YSCC.

It shouldn’t take you long to get the idea. But just to bring you in the loop, here’s a quick summary of points:
• November-February=horrifying darkness.
• Golf is not a sport.
• I’m not above a joke about a name that sounds like poop—see Renteria.
• I refuse to spell Brett Fav-ruh’s name the way he spells it.
• I will often refer to Tim McCarver as my mentor. I won’t mean it.