Riddle League

The 2017 LLWS was yet another year where that flag should be flown at half mast, and I missed it to boot.

The 2017 LLWS was yet another year where that flag should be flown at half mast, and even more depressing for America, I missed the whole damn thing.

 

With all the hoopla surrounding the potato tornado Conor McGregor and his fight with domestic violence world champion Floyd Mayweather, I was quite saddened to recently learn that I had missed the only baseball worth watching: the Little League World Series.  I can’t believe this year’s Pee Pants Championships completely slipped my mind.  Of course, the shit-brained bozo who broke the news to me could have dislodged his head from the nether regions of his rectum long enough to mention it before the whole goddamn thing ended, but alas, he’s recovering from a botched sex change operation, so I cut him some slack.

Fuck.  The only baseball games I look forward to, or even bother watching for that matter, are as over as Jon Jones’ career.  And despite a rare improbable American victory last year, our little big men need to start shooting the same ‘roids as Bones if they don’t want to keep getting Pearl Harbor’d by slant-eyed cyborgs on a dishearteningly regular basis.  The LLWS is gonna have to start making it Asia vs. The World.  The little robots are so dominant, they’re starting to get cockier than a bukkake film.

Even though I watched exactly none of it, my well-documented LLWS expertise means only a second or two of pondering is required before I can flawlessly recap all the excitement of the tournament anyway.  Hmm, let me guess…

On the American side, Massachusetts lost immediately like the friggin embarrassments do every year, and Rhode Island only made it one round further before being bounced themselves.  Then perennial powerhouses like Cali and Texas duked it out, with a southern team or two like Georgia or a dark horse like Hawaii in the mix—after all, they’re coached by Obama now since he’s got nothing better to do.  Since only steers and queers come from Texas, I’ll assume the U.S. was shown some California Love.

As for the foreign bracket, I’d say it was another year of Japs and chinks edging out a veritable cornucopia of spics from around the globe.  There were probably a couple of Euro trash teams like Germany or Canada (close enough), and of course the one prerequisite, no-name, “do they even have baseball there?” country like the United Arab Emirates.  You know, the yearly whipping boys for everyone else to gladly pee on.

So according to me, that would make the international game Japan either whuppin a team “From yo Cali to Texas”, as Raekwon would say, after the diminutive dinks scored more runs than there are grains of rice in their lunch.

Still, I heard the final game was not without its share of controversy, when it ended abruptly after a disgruntled American grandpa wearing a “Make America Great Again” beanie propellor had a Vietnam flashback, charged the field, snatched a bat from an American batter’s hands and brained a three-foot gook.  Several more wild, samurai sword-like swings continued making fine China out of the fleeing yellow youths until Trump’s reported new spokesman was wrestled to the ground by police.  Since he wasn’t black, the cops refrained from pumping ninety bullets into him, but not until after he had caused more Asian destruction than the last tsunami.  Or A-bomb.

When the bloody, bat wielding maniac was finally dragged away in cuffs and order was at last restored, both teams realized that even though Japan was up several hundred runs, their entire lineup had been decimated into a combination plate of casualties.  Seeing as how sportsmanship is paramount in the LLWS, league officials did the only fair and sensible thing:

They declared the game a draw.

 

 

 

 

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