I Hate The A's

I hate the Oakland A's.

It didn't always come naturally and it never really sunk in until a few years ago, but I truly hate them. And that is a good thing. Every team needs a rival. The Yankees have the Red Sox. The Giants have the Dodgers. The Diamondbacks have the Suns. And so on.

The Mariners have the Athletics. Not that anyone else really considers it a rivalry, but I do. And with this rivalry comes extreme hatred. Utter despise of that team.

Growing up the hatred festered inside, but never came out. Jose Canseco and Mark McGwire bashed forearms. C'mon, how stupid is that? Rickey Henderson loved himself. Dave Stewart dominated. Bob Welch won 27 games? Now they were really starting to piss me off.

Then it happened. Ken Phelps. The former Mariner hits a two-out ninth inning solo homer off Brian Holman to ruin a perfect game. Now the hatred starts to show itself. I begin to look at elephants differently as if they are the enemy. I see yellow and green as puke colored pigeon poop. Everything Oakland needs to suffer.

College arrives and I meet David Dunch. A good guy, smart, good looking enough (heterosexually speaking), but an A's fan. A dirty dirty A's fan. He grins smuggishly every time Miguel Tejada hit a home run or Tim Hudson struck out Bret Boone on a nasty splitfinger. Hate, hate, hate.

Then it got even worse.

We started going to Mariners-A's games. The A's fans are the worst. Bigots, brainless, and annoying. They throw batteries and quarters at Ichiro since he is Japanese. Not an exaggeration. They love the dirty, grimy white guys like Jason Giambi and Nick Swisher. Or even worse, Matt Stairs. They wear the ugly green A's jerseys and swing their little flags or bang on their drums. Why the hell are they banging on drums? I don't understand and I hate even more. "Let's Go Oakland!" Shut up, just shut up. You will shut up unless you want a knuckle sandwich.

Then it went from worse to dirty puss scab disgusting.

Mike Rasay started rooting for the A's.

A guy from Hawaii with no affiliation to any team. If anything he should root for the Mets at the time due to the relative success of Benny Agbayani. But no, he jumps on the bandwagon. A skinny, guitar-playing, Hawaiian picks the A's over the beloved Mariners. What is he doing? Claiming that he enjoys rooting for the underdog, stupid Mike joins forces with Dave. Now they both sit in the hate circle.

As time goes on, my hate grows stronger. Swisher = hate. Blanton = hate (despite being my twin brother). Scutaro = really hate. They all suck. They all need to get slapped and kicked in the nuts. So here's to you A's fans (yes, that is poop).