Oh, what a wondrous Day! What a lovely day! Oh, Frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! Ding, dong, the witch is dead! Insert any like saying I might have missed, for the Heavens are shining down upon us today! Pablo Sandoval, the biggest waste of money since the Maginot Line, has finally, mercifully, been designated for assignment.
The nightmare is over. We’ve made it through the hellish, never-ending night. The Panda Era will undoubtedly go down as one of the worst periods of Red Sox history. He went from a lovably fat, clutch, key contributor to three championship teams in San Francisco to a fat piece of shit who made the team worse every time he thought about putting on the uniform in Boston. Only played 161 games in three and a half years. Managed to accumulate a -2.0 WAR, which is almost impossible. Put up a .646 OPS and a 71 OPS+, which is like if you pulled some scrawny kid off the freshman baseball team in high school and put them against a AA pitcher. I say things like this all the time for hyperbolic effect, but I know for a fact I could have played better defense at third base than Pablo. HE WAS SO FAT HIS BELT EXPLODED WHEN HE SWUNG THE BAT! He admitted he was complacent and didn’t care anymore. He’s the worst player in the majors and might hold the title of worst current professional athlete. Red Sox just flushed $95 million down the drain. Good thing there’s no salary cap. I know this wasn’t the most insightful post, but I’m so high on natural endorphins after this news I can hardly think straight. Now, someone cue the music!