I don’t follow sports much, and when I do I generally choose my teams based on the pirateyness of their mascot or the outfits of the cheerleaders. But the Red Sox – hardly a winner in the piratey department (and beats me, does Baseball even have cheerleaders???) has just nuked the competition by partnering up with a rum.
Baseball and rum? Must be Captain Morgan, aye? Or Bacardi, perhaps? NO!!! Goslings, baby – freakin’ Goslings!!! REAL rum, the kind that melts your socks and separates the lubbers from the rogues. The rum that I’ve drank more of than all the others put together has just partnered with a baseball team. In truth, I’m not sure how I feel about that. But I do have to look at the Red Sox with a newfound respect, kinda like how Gandalf finally respected Pippin in Return of the King when Pippin totally slaughtered an orc that was about to slice Gandalf wide open and unawares. Yeah, that’s pretty much how I feel, I guess.
You can read the whole story here (without the blathering about orcs and hobbits):