38 Pitches

Curt Schilling is a bloviating douchelord, but the man can throw.

So what if he sullied the mystique and aura of the first Red Sox championship in 86 years by stumping for George Bush in New Hampshire and, according to some wicked paranoid conspiracy theorists, turning the election.

And so what if he speaks of himself in self-aggrandizing Bibilical overtones, or accuses the sporting press of being lazy hacks.

And especially so what if he suggested that Barry Bonds might have a history of being less than truthful.

I mean, I was there for Stigmata II in Fenway, when Curt shut out the Cardinals over six blood-soaked innings, giving the Red Sox a commanding two-game lead in the series.

But listen, bitch, Public Apology is the title of my blog. Not yours.

Maybe this is your way of telling me to be a more active blogger. Fine. I get that. But please, next time at least ask before you copy me.

Also, love the change-up. Really great.