The word for the day must’ve been “aloof”, over at WFAN, as earlier this afternoon, Mike Francesca and Chris Russo launched into an extended spiel to determine which of the New York Mets’ prominent Latino ballplayers are guilty of not-exhibiting Captain Red Ass-like tendencies on a regular basis. After determining that Carlos Delgado was (ahem) aloof, Russo turned his attentions to the Mets’ centerfielder, a player he derided as one who “…doesn’t like to play hurt. Everything’s gotta be perfect for him to go out there.”
That Russo mispronounces names and generally plays fast and loose with the facts is hardly a new development. But WFAN’s afternoon programming has hit an all-time low if the Fraudcaster in question honestly expects his listeners to forget on how many occasions Beltran has insisted on playing while not even close to 100%. Innuendo Radio is obviously profitable, but this goes beyond mere critique and extends all the way to genuine defamation of character.
The Gil Meche Experience guy had a hilariously apt comment about this cheesy double standard on the Wally Matthews post from this morning: “Cheating on your spouse when everyone does it? Eh, no big deal. Struggling in April when you’re Latino? Off to the gulag!”
As lame as all the obvious race shit in Russo/Francesa’s shtick is, what’s saddest about it to me is seeing how unprepared they are at this point; it wasn’t always like that (although Francesa has always been really open about not caring about hockey).
I know that work is a bitch — not because I currently have a job, I just have a decent memory — but these guys just don’t necessarily seem to do the (minimal) legwork necessary to be informed about half this stuff anymore. And when they fall back on their assumptions and impressions, their biases become extra clear.
I’d love to give Russo the benefit of the doubt (sort of) and presume he mixed up Delgado and Beltran and forgot to specify he was again dissing Delgado. But his co-host had every opportunity to put the Diet Coke down and clarify. But no dice, Francesca went back into a ramble about D’s “lack of fire”.
Come on now Mr. Roth, my name is your name…sorta. Really, I don’t want to get infuriated about those two clowns because half their schtick seems to just be making people angry. But when people are so wrong, so willfully neglectful of the facts, I really wish there were some kind of accountability built into the system. Maybe a shock collar or a dunk tank.
Fuck it, can we just feed these guys to sharks already?
what do you have against sharks?
I will never not call you Dave again, Dave. I promise. That said, I must always be addressed as David. Or Mr. Roth. Only one of my parents is allowed to call me Dave. No one else.
Also: my other parent knows what she did. She can call me Mr. Roth until she stops showing that photo to guests.