FIRE JOE MORGAN: Larry "Hungry" Dobrow Fills Our Bellies With Nutritious Food Metaphors

FIRE JOE MORGAN

Where Bad Sports Journalism Came To Die

FJM has gone dark for the foreseeable future. Sorry folks. We may post once in a while, but it's pretty much over. You can still e-mail dak, Ken Tremendous, Junior, Matthew Murbles, or Coach.

Main / Archives / Merch / Glossary / Goodbye

Thursday, January 31, 2008

 

Larry "Hungry" Dobrow Fills Our Bellies With Nutritious Food Metaphors

Meet Hungry Dobrow, our new favorite food metaphor chef and very possibly the near-pinnacle of stale sportswritingmanship. His first sentences:

Finally, some consummation in the Johan Santana derby. My God, it's like finally being allowed to eat after staring at the cold-cuts spread for 11 hours.

Sex metaphor, other sport metaphor, food metaphor!

I was bullish on the Mets' chances before they grabbed Johan for 55 cents on the dollar. Now, I'm double-bullish, with butterscotch and a cherry on top.

Animal/financial metaphor, straight financial metaphor, weird metaphor, food metaphor! How about some intangible buzzwords?

I know the Phillies still have the "we-done-did-it!" swagger in their step....
Just book my ticket for any town where Santana leads off a three-game series.

* Game 1: Johan and his swagger.

Who's "hungry" for some cliches?

...vaulting the Mets past the Diamondbacks, Cubs and the rest of the unwashed masses...
...major metropolitan areas with a massive media presence offer more in the way of marketing opportunities than smaller burgs; and that grass is, indeed, green...


Now a plain ol' typo!

Poor Mr. Smith simply had the back [sic] luck to have come along at the precise moment that the Bronx boys developed a backbone.


Gonna professionally throw the word "retard" professionally into your professional article?

He plays for the Yankees. "Dealing with mouthy, delusional retards" is part of his job description.

Yes!

Gonna trot out the tired truism that playing in New York is like playing under a huge...

The pressure of being tagged as the guy who coulda/shoulda been traded for Johan Santana is no more or less suffocating than the pressure of performing day-in, day-out under the harsh New York spotlight.


...spotlight, correct!

Okay, how about you finish us off with some old-fashioned flip-flopping? You know, like a pancake! Or a fried egg! Or a salmon (also edible)!!!

Twins GM Bill Smith isn't the boob he's being made out to be...
Hell no, I wouldn't have done that deal if I were Smith...
Poor Mr. Smith simply had the back [sic] luck to have come along at the precise moment that the Bronx boys developed a backbone...
Unless at least two of the four prospects become legit contributors or Santana blows out his arm within the next nine months, Smith goes down in history as That Guy Who Traded The Great Johan Santana And Only Got A Few Warm Bodies In Return...


One more time:

Hell no, I wouldn't have done that deal if I were Smith. Come on. Be serious.

Mr. Hungry, sir, well done. Nothing egregious here. Just a bountiful muffin basket full of mediocrity! Bon appetit!

Labels: ,


posted by Junior  # 11:03 PM
Comments: Post a Comment

<< Home

Archives

04.05   05.05   06.05   07.05   08.05   09.05   10.05   11.05   12.05   01.06   02.06   03.06   04.06   05.06   06.06   07.06   08.06   09.06   10.06   11.06   12.06   01.07   02.07   03.07   04.07   05.07   06.07   07.07   08.07   09.07   10.07   11.07   12.07   01.08   02.08   03.08   04.08   05.08   06.08   07.08   08.08   09.08   10.08   11.08  

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?