Dare We Call This a Triple-Header?

OUTTA LEFTFIELD: Learning the physics of extension with a swivel chair and tripod
Published: Tuesday, August 02, 2011
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor

Several new supremely uninteresting offerings from the King of Komedy, Michael Morsch. Highlights from the first one:

Any discussion of physics usually puts me to sleep. But add to that a swivel chair, a video camera tripod and a hotel room at 2:30 a.m. in Lakewood, N.J., and the physics discussion becomes immediately more entertaining … until I fall asleep.

This sounds like the plot of a bad porno film.

It’s not exactly easy to find oneself in a hotel room in the middle of New Jersey listening to someone go on about the physics of hitting a baseball. These kinds of things happen to me because, essentially, I am a big galoot who hangs around with like-minded knuckleheads.

Badabing! We've got baseball, and we've got words like "galoot" and "knuckleheads." Borsch talks about an old friend name John who sounds at least as unamusing as our favorite editor himself, and states that he is a bona fide purveyor of bull puckey. Google suggests that you spell it "bullpucky," but hey, I'm not one to nitpick.

Well, it turns out John is interested in (surprise!) baseball. Did I mention John is bald? I hope you think that's funny, because it's the only joke there is. Borsch also uses the terms "ballgame" and "ballplayers."

Monday, August 1, 2011
A Connecticut Yankee road trip

Branching out into new territory, Borsch decides to focus this effort on the game of baseball. He disguises it as a "precious moments with my daughter"-type post, but watch what Borsch rambles on about:

Our seats in Yankee Stadium ended up being a few rows behind and a few seats over from where Derek Jeter’s 3,000th hit landed in the leftfield bleachers a few weeks ago. The Yankees’ captain was the first Yankee to reach 3,000 career hits — not Ruth, not Gehrig, not DiMaggio, not Mantle. So Jeter’s accomplishment is a pretty big deal for a franchise that’s experienced a lot of pretty big deals in its existence.

Then later, when they actually get to the University of Hartford: Notable UHART graduates include the singer Dionne Warwick and Houston Astros retired first baseman Jeff Bagwell. Really?

He talks about visiting the home of Mark Twain and tries to impress us by telling us that this was merely his pen name. Gee, such arcane knowledge! Next he'll be telling us Muhammad Ali was just a stage name, too. He says he is "a writer of substantially less note" than Twain. This officially qualifies as the understatement of the millenium. I'm not the biggest Twain fan there is, but the thought of Borsch defiling that house with his presence sickens me.

Monday, August 1, 2011
Right field 'Pence-syl-mania'

Borsch's mind is always striving to expand and improve his art. Witness this column, which delves into the heretofore untouched realm of baseball! Here - not showing any discomfort at exploring such unfamiliar territory - he discusses the arrival of outfielder Hunter "The Mantis" Pence.

Let me pause a moment to say that Borsch is not only a bad writer - he's a cowardly hypocrite as well. A mere seven days ago, he had this to say on his Twitter account: I don't know this guy who the Eagles signed and could care less. And Hunter Pence just isn't that good.

But a mere 24 hours later, he directed this Twitter comment to Pence himself: Welcome to Philly. Will be there tonight in rightfield to greet you.

I hope you greet him with only the mildest applause because, you know, he's just not that good.

[Pence] reacted to the attention by waving to the faithful, tipping his cap a couple of times and turning to acknowledge the fans several times during the game.

Woah, a gracious celeb! Who would have thought? Showing that he is, as always, the consummate writer, Borsch follows that sentence with this one:

Pence wears his pants high, to show a lot of red sock. It’s a good look for him.

First: what the hell? And second: saying someone "wears his pants high" makes you think he has the waistline up around the ribcage, not that he just rolls his socks way up. And suddenly Borsch, the man whose lack fashion sense has fueled many a column, knows what a "good look" for anyone is?