Bill's Sports Binge: Draft after Darrelle, Twitter twerps and say it ain't so, Tebow

Apparently, the 2012 Cy Young winner walked off the mound after the seventh inning with his head down all disgruntled because the home plate ump called what Price said was a perfectly thrown strike.. .a ball. (Gasp!) I know, right? Anyway, according to Price, the umpire told him — with no provocation — to throw the ball over the friggin’ plate. Only he didn't use the word, "friggin’.” He said THE WORD... the big one... the F-dash-dash-dash word. Price was all like, Whaaaaaat?. Then the umpire called him a liar about the F-bomb after the game. Then Price called the umpire a liar about calling him a liar. Then, somebody allegedly called the other "Mr. Poopy-pants" and it got ugly from there. So naturally, as any Vanderbilt-educated man would do, Price started bitching about it on Twitter.. .and was joined by a couple of his teammates. Now the gentlemen await possible fines under the MLB social media policy, which basically says, if your snarky comments aren't acceptable at the post-game podium on national TV, don't tweet it. It's the same thing, morons.

Looks as though quarterback, patsy and NFL punching bag Tim Tebow may be filing for unemployment soon after being unceremoniously dumped by the Jets this week, no doubt inspiring an embarrassing display of celebratory schadenfreude not seen since SEAL Team Six put Bin Laden on the Hell Express. Happy days are here again. I mean, let's face it. Tebow is a straight-up dick. Remember when he held out of training camp over his contract, took plays off, punched a stripper, drove drunk, skipped practice, refused autographs, filed for bankruptcy, slept at team meetings, called out fellow players, failed a drug test, refused to pay child support, got tazed at the Blue Martini, insulted his coach, cussed out a fan, demanded more playing time, trashed his former team, showed up to camp out of shape, got accused of rape, shot himself in the leg and blamed it on his imaginary girlfriend? You don't? Oh, that's right. His throwing mechanics didn't translate very well in the pros and instead of quitting, he showed up every day, did the best he could and made no excuses. What... an asshole.

Honorable Afterthoughts: Buccaneers invited undrafted free agent Purdue quarterback and Plant High stand-out Robert Marve to minicamp Friday through Sunday for tryouts (Upon hearing the news, Bucs QB Josh Freeman suffered a mild cramp shrugging his shoulders); The Tampa Bay Lightning's disappointing season came mercifully to a close Saturday after a loss to the Florida Panthers (also effectively ending hockey season as far as Tampa Bay fans are concerned... seriously, you're not still watching, are you?): Finally, Rays reporter Kelly Nash almost snapped a photo of her own death at Fenway Park during batting practice (which would have made the ugly-duckling pose permanent. Chicks...)

The NFL Draft: That long weekend in April when you're on a hot date with your favorite football team. She's dropped some weight, let her hair grow out, picked up a cornerback from the Jets. (Looking good, baby... Is it getting hot in here or is it just you?) Each day she shows you a little more (Oooh, a quarterback from NC State... he's so big... Josh could use a little competition... mmm, nice), throws in a couple of surprises (No more LaGarrette Blount? But you know I kind of like it rough... but who's this? Jeff Demps? Oh, he's fast. He'll get you there quickly... God that's hot... I don't know how much more of this I can take... please just kick the ball off already)...
"Well, good night. See you in four months."
(Huh? Wait. We're just getting started. My poor little blue footballs are killing me.)
And just like that... you're alone with a half-eaten plate of cold nachos wearing an Alstott jersey with your pants on the ceiling fan (don't judge me).
Long and perverted story short, the Buccaneers answered some off-season questions, left a few unanswered (no linebackers?) and the rest are open to endless hindsight debate and second-guessing by illiterate drunken experts in Tampa Bay men's rooms everywhere until training camp. Just please refrain from engaging until I zip up. It's creepy.

Speaking of bizarre encounters, Royals pitcher James Shields took the mound Tuesday against his former teammates for the first time after 12 seasons with the Rays. But never mind that shit, what's the deal with all the high-school-girl tweeting after the little spat between pitcher David Price and some umpire on Sunday? Juicy!

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