Doubleheader... DoubleDEADer! For the opponents! yup!

Dos juegos esta noche, putas.  Late games, dark at night, alcho-fuel running through our veins.

To whet our whistle, we first face off against 'White Boys Can't Win'.  As an appetizer, this makes for a tasty dish.  .500 team, stupid - and borderline racist - team-name, -17 run differential, and a night made for Masterbatter dominance.  Granted, these bozos only lost to Ruckus 5-4, but they lost to everyone else by an average of 463.6794 runs.  'WBCW' will be our Coors Light Summer Brew.  Not too strong and easy to put down.  A fine prep for the heavy consumption we'll tuck into for the main course.

  Picture this: strolling into Mike Ditka's steakhouse downtown, sun lowering in the sky, long silhouettes stretching down the sidewalk, the sounds of the city muted by the paired force of smell and anticipation.  Upon entering, you see a plump sow grazing on unmolested blades of grass - a quick lock of the eyes and a... was that a smirk?  Is this reality?  Does it matter?  Flavor.  Belly up to the bar for a whiskey and consider that connection to your meal.  Some whiskeys later, servers approve your order of pork chops and they casually mention that today's inventory is especially flavorful.  WhammE.  As the serrated edge of the knife effortlessly separates your mouthfuls of your conquest - contentment in your being peaks.

Let's knock their batting gloves off of their delicate cuticles, smash their snapbacks into their foreheads and puke runs all over their beer-less embarrassment of a softball team.