Soy Peligroso  •  October 17th, 2020

The Red League Championship Series

Best of 3
Sunday, October 18
First Pitch: 10:05 AM
Umpire: Eraserhead
TV: www.youtube.com/jonbonpokemon

Red 1s
Lefty Moses
8 Ball
Notorious ODC

Career Fish: 10
Career Season HRs: 1343
Career Postseason HRs: 102
Odds: 5 to 1

Suds: 4.5
Reefer: 1.5
Laughs: 3.5
Dedication: 4.5

In the 11-going-on-12 years of Fall Classics, the Red 1 team has never hoisted the fabled Fish. Will this be the year? Having the top 2 big fly swatters might help. Like doorbell salesmen, they’ve got their fair share of ding dongs. 

The first person in YFS history to actually treat stickball like a real sport, the Notorious ODC blew the doors off his redshirt season with an amazing 6,853,972 swings this year. Odie plans to arrive around 4:15 AM to begin his stretches, which, god(s) willing, should be enough by game time. Right behind him will be Lefty Moses. Sadly his Coke Zero addiction has left Lefty only fleeting moments of respite, “sleeping” only here and there in a fugue state, existing only to suck up his next no-cal nectar. Luckily 8 Ball knows a great rehab facility. What can be said about 8-Symptomatic that hasn’t already been said in a police deposition? To mirror his newfound inside-out swing, B Ball recently underwent penile curvature surgery to make his wang look like the letter C. Like a duck with chapstick, he told the Surgeon to put it on his bill. Surge walloped 99 homers in the season but neglected to show up on the final day simply because he hit 124 last year, so you know, century mark no biggie, been there done that, par for the Yawn Show. And lastly, on the night before game day, the Stinkmiser plans to watch his favorite film genre: the Holocaust, baby! Schindler’s List, Judgement At Nuremberg, The Pianist… just hook it to his veins, he’s Shoah to have a great time!   

Red 2s
Jeffrey Bomber
Time Machine
Soy Peligroso
Big Sex

Career Fish: 5
Career Season HRs: 640
Career Postseason HRs: 25
Odds: 8 to 1

Suds: 5
Reefer: 2
Laughs: 3.5
Dedication: 4

The Red 2s can take small comfort having at least won the Classic (albeit a whopping 1 time). But this R2 squad doesn’t do the whole “comfort” thing very well, preferring a generous sprinkle of unease and menacing disquiet on all social interactions. Myers-Briggs eat your heart out.

A true dynamo of dipshittery, Jeffrey Bomber blasted onto the Gravy and into prison pen pals’ hearts everywhere. Not only did he play all 10 games of the Gauntlet, he took his dunks like an Oreo. We’d expect nothing less coming from the same gene miasma as his vaunted, voluptuous brotherland. Big Sex is a walking, talking mustache draped in velvet. Pregnant women ovulate when he walks by. The man has slept on a waterbed his entire adult life. Time Machine can attest. Timmy Edward Machine spends his version of a day warping in and out of various orgies, horse tracks, horse orgies, and coffee runs. He is the only YFS-er with an Eloi lovechild. Time hasn’t had the heart yet to tell Plato those cave shadows were just him fucking around. Longballs can let him down easy. The man whose default facial expression can best be described as “hard stare,” Lenny Longballs combines the silkiness of a sarong with the body of King Kong. When he takes a shit, he creates a new zip code. Which leaves the Dangerous One, Soy Peligroso. Even I, dear reader, don’t know much about this enigma wrapped in a riddle wrapped in a fruit roll-up. The “light speed” in his purported exit velocity merely refers to his smelling salt abuse. Though Soy often appears deeply lost in thought, behind the curtain there is nothing but “Man Getting Hit By Football.”


The Black League Championship Series

Best of 3
Sunday, October 18
First Pitch: 2:05 PM
Umpire: Wendell Hey-Hey-Hey
TV: www.youtube.com/heyheyheyNubianAsses69420

Black 1s
JC & the Sugardoll 5
Solo Shot
Fart Cop

Career Fish: 6
Career Season HRs: 643
Career Postseason HRs: 21
Odds: 6 to 1

Suds: 4
Reefer: 2
Laughs: 4
Dedication: 4

The B1s would make a wonderful cast of rival guidance counselors in a straight-to-Netflix Happy Madison production. With personalities as diverse as they are perverse, these chowderheads can inspire one another to greatness if they can avoid self-sabotage. 

Enter the Sugardoll. Hero of the Quarantine Dream League, the Buddha of Brooklyn is spending the week meditating on the perfect team chant for every humanly conceivable situation. Knowing Sugardoll will “beatitude” a dead horse, the Diamond tattooed a D-cup on each eyelid so he can have something to look at when he rolls his eyes. The gadfly with the gift of gab turned heads with a resurgent Gravy campaign and is primed to sack whack a teammate if the feeling moves him. Shepherd had better wear a corduroy cup. Née Hothead, Shep AKA Stormy Dylans AKA Giusheppe’s new nicknames are nearly as theatrical as his pitch delivery. Fart Cop gives it 5 out of 5 earth tones. It remains to be seen if Fart Cop’s obvious comedic genius will have the same spark given his nemesis is competing on the other side of the bracket. And finally, Solo Shot rounds out the motley B1s. A recent devotee of the cult classic Sleepaway Camp, His Soloness aspires to be the first YFS-er to hit a bomb while lamb-tucking.

Black 2s
Deep Space
Drunk Tank
Secret Agent

Career Fish: 11
Career Season HRs: 700
Career Postseason HRs: 74
Odds: 9 to 1

Suds: 3
Reefer: 3
Laughs: 4
Dedication: 3.5

Like a snowman in sunglasses, these B2 bombers are best served chilled. If they can keep the yuks flowing at a Minister-mandated 2.5 laughs/minute, they’ll have more than a fighting chance. Just 4 grizzlies taking their adopted son on a Fishing trip, that’s all. 

Deep Space must feel like he fell asleep and woke up in the movie Grumpy Old Men. When he’s not smoking Penns with his cigarette bat, the youngster can be found stoically calculating the atomic structure of pork rinds. While Space gets high on the hog, Drunk Tank and Cobra do it the old-fashioned way. The sweet-stroking Drunk Tank could have easily been a professional golfer had he not had other “greenskeeping” in mind. But game recognize game. Whenever Dr. Monkenstein lights up a particularly choice fattie, he yells “Cobie!” out of respect. Fun fact: did you know that the sole reason Cobra wears headphones is to drown out the cacophony of his keys? When he runs he sounds like Santa Claus falling down the stairs. Ludwig van Agent will need his earplugs. After fucking his finger years ago, Faux Fauci’s defense has been a choose-your-own-adventure. Will today’s catch be a Birdbath? A Proposal? A Misty-May Treanor? The excitement doesn’t stop. Perhaps the Mechanic can steady his nerves with some stickball dad jokes. The winningest athlete in Fall Classic history has a knack for showing up big when the lights are brightest. The B2s had better hope the Minister doesn’t fall asleep in the BarcaLounger. 

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