Sanctimonious Baseball Writers and the Nutjobs Who Reply to Them on Twitter – A Valentine’s Day Match Made in Heaven

There are a lot of adjectives that can describe Baseball Writers (yes the capitalization is necessary, just ask them and they’ll tell you) – self-important, grandstanding, smug, self-righteous, prickish…oh sorry meant priggish, but sanctimonious is my favorite and sums them up the best. All this is to say get a load of this guy:

Really Scott? Really?

“Absolutely inexcusable and pathetic” cuz the Connecticut School of Broadcasting Intern who gets paid nothing typed “Coach” instead of “Manager”????

Yes the overweight middle aged men who go to work everyday in a uniform even though they ain’t playing, the guys who get mad and kick dirt and throw bases and turn their hats around (classic move by the by) to yell in another person’s face, these guys need to be shown the utmost respect, these guys can’t possible be demeaned by calling them coach not manager.

Oh the horror!!!!!!

I know. I know. Baseball is not just a sport. It’s America’s Pastime. It’s a religion. It’s history and nuance and a microcosm for America itself and blah blah blah.

Obviously ol’ Scotty Boy is upset about something else, maybe frustrated that seemingly every other Baseball Writer in America is now employed by The Athletic and Scott is stuck on Bleacher Report. Just a guess there. It couldn’t possibly be that right?

Anywho this gets better cuz the people who actually take time to reply to this faux outrage, well they are the real trip:

I honestly would love to have an actual face to face conversation with these people like @JAB44U2 (real catchy twitter handle you got there JAB) who spend so much energy coming up with ridiculous puns like E(ast)PN and A-Fraud. That really is a special type of crazy at work right there folks.

So Happy Valentine’s Day to Scott Miller and all the ESPN hater obsessives. I imagine you will have a lovely evening correcting people’s grammar online followed by maybe chastising a waiter and returning your dinner to the restaurant kitchen. Perhaps you can top it off by berating a Target employee who accidentally scans your Diet Pepsi twice.


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