Category Archives: Bowa, Larry

Third Base Coach’s Bleep

By David Raposa | Published: April 4, 2008
Since the sports world can’t seem to get enough about how stupid all these dumb-ss coaching regulations are, allow me to do what these so-called journalists can’t seem to do and tell it to you straight, L-Bow style. That’s right, ladies. BLEEP BLEEP is back, La-La Land style. And unlike that soft-tossing gimp Pedro, I [...]
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Michael Jack Bleep

By David Raposa | Published: February 11, 2007
Oh, Schmidtty. What the f*ck are you smoking, and why the f*ck are you smoking it now? And did you forget how to pick up a f*cking phone and call your old buddy L-Bow for a little bender? What the f*ck, it’s not like I’m busy. I’m just sitting here in a cootie-covered Motel 6 [...]
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F*CKING BLEEP BLEEPING F*CK

By David Raposa | Published: November 8, 2006
OK, first of all, what the F*CK is up with no pictures of me in a g*ddamn Yankee uniform where I’m not giving some jack*ss a high-five after their fifteen f*cking minute home run trot? Note to fellow Yankers: when I pat you on the *ss as you’re rounding third, it’s because I want you [...]
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This Is New York Bleepin’ Baseball

By David Raposa | Published: November 29, 2005
Ha! Wrong stripes, but close enough! Nice to see someone took the f*cking hint I oh-so-subtlely offered last time. Thanks to Mr. George Steinbrenner and a couple bottles of Disaronno, I am finally part of a class baseball organization. Oh, yeah, some of you dipsh*ts are probably itching at the d*ck to go to your [...]
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General Bleep

By David Raposa | Published: October 17, 2005
Well, don’t that beat all. Here I thought an old teammate was gonna give old L-Bow a little bend, and maybe let me help him fix his f*cked-up team. Not that I would’ve taken the damn job, but when Billy Bob called me – yeah, he called me himself! – he sounded a little choked [...]
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Bleep For The Pennant

By David Raposa | Published: September 22, 2005
Let’s do a comparison. Pitcher A is a fat gimpy godboy on the juice that went from being Super Tough Power Pitcher Man to soft-tossing Frank Tanana-wannabe b*tch. Pitcher B is a overpaid waste of mile high sh*t lucking into the best f*cking streak he’ll ever see. Pitcher C is some f*cking wanna-be rock star [...]
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Sweet Bleep

By David Raposa | Published: August 22, 2005
Not that it’s any of your g*ddamn business, but as of right now I’m on vacation from this blog bullsh*t because you f*cking girlie b*tches with your “way to go Larry!” this and “you rock!” that make me wanna actually live in Connecticut with your sadsack insurance-buying b*tch*sses. Yeah, maybe I’ll go chill with my [...]
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More Tool Belt Bleep

By David Raposa | Published: August 5, 2005
Hey – who’s that sexy bastard? Oh yeah – it’s me! And I’m still looking good! So you f*ckwits caught me at a beautiful time. I just went to the dentist because my teeth have been hurting like a b*tch (the Palmeiro type), and I hadn’t gone in about 10 years. I mean, what the [...]
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Blue Bleep Bleep

By David Raposa | Published: July 25, 2005
IT’S SHOWTIME F*CKERS! Oh yeah, I loved hearing Ron Gardenhire give it right back to those umps Lee Elia style. That was some great old-school no-sh*t-taking stuff. You *ss jockeys probably think Major League managers have it easy – they just slap on some stirrups, make a lineup, tell their coaches to coach, and run [...]
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All Star Bleep Bleep

By David Raposa | Published: July 11, 2005
Wooo. Happy f*cking All Star Break. Give me a second to actually give a sh*t. OK, so some boy genius called me out on my comment last time about Delgado being the 2nd best first baseman in the National League. Seems I totally forgot about Derrek Lee, some flash-in-the-pan pill-popping slapmaster playing so far over [...]
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