Friends, it's nearly upon us: the third anniversary of Mitch Albom is a Terrible Writer.
And what an amazing three years it's been! My team has worked tirelessly documenting Mitch's sins each and every single day for nearly 36 months (check the archives!). And, as you know, Mitch has been a bad, bad boy.
But I don't mean bad in the sense of the Bad Boys and the gritty, physical, defensive style that characterized the dominant Pistons that served Detroit under the administration of George "H.W." Bush. Guys like Bill "What Foul?" Laimbeer, Dennis "Worm" Rodman, John "Spider" Salley, "Dirty Uncle" Rick Mahorn, James "Big Buddha" Edwards, Vinnie "the Microwave" Johnson, and (to a lesser extent) Mark "the Waffle Iron" Aguirre were bad in the sense that they did not give a fuck--a characteristic that would later briefly be revived in a different profession in Detroit by Slim "M&M" Shady.
Those Pistons might've been "not bad" basketball players, but it would take a great deal of time to sift through the statistics to make that determination. So let's all just agree that they were Bad Boys.
Now, I know I've left out Isiah Thomas and Joe Dumars. There are two reasons for this. First of all, their nicknames sucked (Zeke and Jody, respectively). Secondly, they were good basketball players. They weren't bad in any meaningful way. Therefore, if their personalities had dominated the team, then we would've had the Good Boys, which may as well have been the Gay Boys, which I think would've been terrific. However, late-80s/early-90s Detroit wouldn't have been ready for it.
Back to Mitch. You see, he's bad in the sense that he's not good. He's not good at anything: he's not good at basketball, he's not good in not-giving-a-fuck (he gives-a-fuck?), and he's certainly not good at writing. In fact, he's a terrible writer.
While I feel that we've done a decent job exposing this truth to the world, there's still a lot of work to be done. Let's face it: despite our daily efforts, Mitch still has firm hold of his bully pulpit at that corporate rag excuse for a paper. And he's still somehow making a fortune publishing books about people dying and it being sad yet affirming for those of us who are still alive and foolish enough to fall for his macabre shenanigans. Who knows what else that would-be renaissance man has in the works?
I do know this:
- the Pistons are in the NBA Eastern Conference Finals
- the Red Wings are in the Stanley Cup Finals
- the Tigers have the second-highest payroll in major league baseball, which means I don't even have to check the standings to know that they're six games ahead in the AL Central
- the Lions have drafted enough wide receivers to assure that next year (or maybe the year after next or--at the very latest--the year after that) they will notch a Super Bowl because Charlie Batch can launch the ball to any part of the field--to any part of the field--and some stellar draft pick will be waiting there to catch it, cradle it, and run that baby back for six motherfucking points
- the Rockers are still redefining how outstanding soccer can be when it's played--wait for it--indoors!
- the Shock are pretty good (probably?)
- Detroit will probably be on the short list for 2016 Summer Olympics host cities
Therefore, we recommit ourselves to not letting Mitch ruin these things. That self-serving prick has let us down too many times. He's too busy researching his books by robbing graves and playing Weekend at Bernie's with corpses to give Detroit the attention it needs in these inspiring times.
Now, I know that I've occasionally missed a day or two on this blog. I want you readers to know that I always leave it in good hands and I'm sure my staff keeps the blog fresh and up to date. But now that I've taken a temporary leave of absence from Ron Paul's campaign to remake America as a land of freedom, I personally recommit myself to this blog. I will be reexamining his recent columns, books, television appearances, and whatever else he does when he's not trying to cash in on death at the expense of Detroit sports. And I'll report to you every day (starting some time in the next few days) on what I find.
Hey, Mitch: fuck you!