Tell me you hate me…really...you should…

By Jeff Glauser

The Phanatic Magazine

Blogging is a double-edged sword. You write to be read, and immediate confirmation – and gratification – often comes in the form of comments left for you.

However, when comments come, and your intended audience - generally speaking - is innately cynical and jaded, those comments often appear in the form of criticism or downright scorn.

(Unless, of course, your name is Bob Herpen and you come with your own traveling fan club. I wonder if he has his own theme music, too, a la “I’m Gonna Git You Sucka”).

Me? I follow the Hollywood mantra that even negative feedback is good feedback. The obvious reasons are that it generates additional exposure and, if someone took the effort to respond at all, it essentially means that I struck a cord somehow.

So, I say, let the cord-striking continue.

Bring the insults. Bring the pain. Tell me I suck. That I get under your skin. That I’m clueless. Or, the latest actual one I received: That I’m a “lazy writer.”

A quick response to that one in particular:

To those who claimed I was out of my mind to place Pat Burrell as the starting leftfielder of the All Phillies Team, circa 1987-2007… quick, name me who you’d put in his place. I’ll wait…

(Still waiting…)

Find someone yet?

Yeah, I didn’t think so. There’s isn’t anyone else. In fact, upon originally doing my “lazy” research, there hasn’t been a leftfielder beyond Burrell who has played ONE FULL SEASON at the position in that time! So, again, as I said before:

He…wins…by…default.

Okay, now provide me a quality center for the Sixers who surpasses Dikembe Mutombo over the past two decades.

(Twiddling thumbs, staring out window…)

(Counting tiles on the wall… frighteningly amused by it…)

How did that go for you? Exactly. THERE WEREN’T ANY! Sadly enough, as bad a trade as it was to acquire the Cookie Monster (and trust me, it was – it set the team back at least two years), you can’t deny that he played an integral role in getting the Sixers to the Finals and was the Eastern Conference starter for them the following year.

I know this because: a) I remembered, and b) I looked it up. You know, research.

(Yes, in addition to becoming lazy and clueless, I’ve become arrogant as well. I rule.)

Here are some other thoughts I’d like to share with you at this time. Feel free to get so irritated that you feel an uncontrollable desire to click the “comment” or email link and tear into me at will:

- Scott Rolen, Chris Webber and Terrell Owens, et al, received bum raps while they were here. I too would complain about the fans and not give 100 percent if I were them. J.D. Drew was right to scoff at us, as well. And don’t get me started on poor Ed Wade. Honorable mentions to Derrick Coleman and Eric Lindros.

- Andy Reid is the second-coming of Ward Cleaver. Seriously, we should all chip in and get him something nice for Father’s Day next month. He’s earned it.

- Speaking of, the Eagles have clearly earned the designation of a “Gold Standard” franchise. Coming close to the grand prize has to count for something. Horse shoes, hand grenades and four consecutive conference championship appearances - that’s what I always say.

- WIP sucks strictly because there are too many Italians on the air. Any further knowledge or insights the hosts provide are irrelevant in lieu of this.

- Jim Leyland can’t hold a candle to Charlie Manuel, his mastery of the double switch and when to use relievers, so let’s stop playing the “what if” game.

- Billy King is a financial genius; simply a master at balancing the payroll and providing economically feasible and pragmatic contracts to the right kind of players.

- Anyone who doesn’t appreciate a good, extended Philadelphia Soul recap needs to burn slowly in hell while strapped in a chair and forced to listen to Celine Dion’s greatest hits on terminal repeat.

- Bob Herpen’s fan club consists of a bunch of mindless lemmings who incessantly steal lines of an overrated Saturday Night Live skit in the unsuccessful hope of generating humor.

Ah, that felt good to get off my chest. Very cathartic. Should have done it long ago.

So… what do you think?

Feel free to blast Jeff Glauser (please?) by leaving a comment for the world to see. Or perhaps by sending hate mail to jglauser@phanaticmag.com.