Thom Loverro, a typist of quality from the Washington Times, respectfully requests that Giants fans reach out to him regarding his Michael Morse column from Tuesday, and we only bring it up because Duane Kuiper brought it up in the Giants pregame show Thursday. The entirety of the piece is here, but here’s the top:
“Michael Morse wasn’t the sharpest pencil in the box in the Washington Nationals clubhouse when he was here. Nice guy, good for some laughs, but if the clubhouse ever had to show up for a collective IQ test, let’s just say it would be a good time for Morse to take one of his many trips to the disabled list.
“Morse has resurfaced loudly and proudly in San Francisco after disappearing following his last season in Washington in 2012 . . . (he) hasn’t gotten any smarter, though. He told USA Today that he still has issues with the Nationals’ decision two years ago to shut Stephen Strasburg down as part of their Tommy John surgery recovery plan — a decision that looks better in light of the Atlanta Braves sending two of their pitchers back for second surgeries.
‘You look back, and it just shows that this game, you never know what can happen,’ Morse said. ‘Who knows what could have happened if Stras would have pitched? Or if we did something different? It just shows that you can be on top one year, and the next year not be in the playoffs or anything. You just got to play to win that day. And you’ve got to play to win that year.’
“Morse was a fan favorite in Washington, because sometimes dumb can be cute and fun. His connection with fans here manifested itself in his signature song, Take On Me,” which became the team’s seventh-inning stretch song . . . (he) told the Washington Post on this visit to San Francisco that it’s a connection he’ll always have with Washington fans. But he also said the connection with Giants fans is better. ‘I still got it here,” he said. “It’s incredible. It’s something I’ll always have with the people of D.C. But you know? It’s to another level here. It’s a whole other level.’
“A smart man might have realized that was an insult wrapped in a compliment.”
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For his next trick, Yoenis Cespedes will actually use his head to bounce a single off the railing in front of the stands, catch the ball in his teeth and throw a strike to home plate with his left hand. Either that, or he’s out of tricks. And as any true showman knows, you should always leave them wanting more.
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Jim Harbaugh is getting entirely too much credit for the Dockers commercial in which his wife Sarah does almost all the talking and almost all the acting. That’s so NFL coach-y –- getting paid for other people’s labors.
In fairness, he does do a great job holding up that weenie-on-a-stick with a humble heart, which is much better than the other way around.
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Marc Stein and Brian Windhorst of ESPN have gotten wind of a nascent scheme by the Miami Heat to imitate the San Antonio Spurs by turning 3 pillars into 4 by adding –- wait for it –- Carmelo Anthony while retaining LeBron James, Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh. It would of course mean lots of other players would have to take significant pay cuts, and while that might outrage some whiny snivelly types, that isn’t the problem.
By this scheme, the Heat would be adding Carmelo Anthony, but losing a ball. And ball movement. And movement.
Somewhere, Gregg Popovich is thinking about laughing.
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Generations: Argentinian wizard Lionel Messi throws up before every match he plays, which has come as a great and bizarre revelation to newbies who never heard of Glenn Hall, the Chicago Black Hawks’ goaltender of the ‘60s who did the same thing, in part because he was playing without a mask, and thinking about taking one in the beezer was slightly more upsetting to him that Messi being kicked by some troglodytic defender. 
My point: Messi (seen, right) did not invent the pregame puke. He may not have even perfected it. He’s just an elite competitor with a nervous stomach, like there have been for thousands of years.
Of course, most NFL players with this condition have been encouraged by their coaches to puke on their opponents for the momentary advantage, which is one more reason why football is a game for sociopaths.
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Nervous hurlage, though, is the least worrisome thing Argentina brings to this World Cup. Vice’s George Nelson reports on the Argentine hooligans hell-bent on avenging the Falklands war (or Malvinas war, depending on your side) with English tourists’ heads as their milieu of choice.
“Heading up the horde is a man named Pablo Alvarez, also known as ‘Beboté’ or ‘Big Baby.’ ‘Football related violence is an English tradition so come to Brazil and we will see what happens,’ Beboté said when I called him up for a chat. ‘Argentines remember -- we never forget nor forgive.’ He then abruptly hung up.
“Both British and Brazilian police are losing sleep over the possibility of bloodshed caused by Falklands-fueled patriotism. Even though many of these die-hard fans wouldn't have been born in 1982, the wounds of the war are yet to heal in Argentine society, and the barras bravas (hooligans) are keen to seize the opportunity to gain some international notoriety.
Fellow barra brava Hernan Palavecino, an Atlético Independiente fan who's traveling to Brazil, also implied conflict was on the cards during a separate and equally brief conversation. ‘What do you think?’ he said. ‘English fans in Brazil will be in danger.’”
And Sepp Blatter dreams of a day with interplanetary football. Swell. Death rays for everyone.
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And finally, one game down, 63 to go. And remember, if you’re not that much into soccer, it’s okay. This isn’t community service, it’s a game. Enjoy it you want, ignore it as you wish, and don’t let anyone lecture you about it. Yes, it’s great fun, but you don’t have to go to every party just because someone says you should.
But don’t start rooting for the U.S. team out of some bumper-sticker sense of patriotism if you don’t care about the rest of the sport. You’ll look like a yutz –- because, well, you will be one.
Photo of Lionel Messi courtesy of USATSI.
