Go Hurricane! Go Matt Cain! Go Herb Caen! Go BrainDeads!

Thanks to Tejas Pedro, Plotnik has been tuned into the fabulous political drama taking place in our town this week, with a little baseball tossed in for flavor.

Does everyone realize that the San Francisco Bleeding Hearts (whom we call the Braindead Caribbeans, because ex-manager Felipe Alou, himself a Dominican, once referred to his team as a bunch of brain dead Caribbeans because they couldn't stop swinging at pitches they couldn't hit, and this comment got him fired. Good thing that PC kind of stuff doesn't happen any more) are playing the Arlington, Texas Running Dog Fascist Pig Boot Lickers?

It's Brown versus Whitman. The Pinkos versus the Pigs. The Smoke Tea versus the Tea Party. Red (the Boot Lickers' uniforms ARE red) versus Blue...well not exactly blue, orange. But not red.

Rod Beck versus Glen Beck.

You couldn't dream up a better scenario, unless (wait for it) the Pinkos have the Gay Men's Chorus sing "God Bless America" in the seventh inning. They're really thinking about that. The Boot Lickers will respond by replacing the grounds crew with George Bush and his father riding an Iraqi tank around the infield.

Cliff House versus Cliff Lee.

The latte sipping liberals serve sushi at this ballpark. In Arlington you get toxic sludge on a bun and you better love it.

It's Extra Virgin Olive Oil versus Houston Crude.

The Pinkos are gonna win. They've got to. Nobody cares about baseball in Texas, it's football football football. Three yards and a cloud of dust. It's the dust bowl.

It's The Salad Bowl versus the Dust Bowl.

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OK, the admission: Plotnik hates the Giants, always has. But that is only in relation to the Plotzers. When it's California versus Texas the choice is easy. It's like rooting for that hurricane to land on Crawford, Texas.

(We don't, really.)

But still: Go Hurricane! Go Matt Cain! Go Herb Caen!

Go BrainDeads!