Each time you curse at girls, you curse a little at yourself
Harry H. Frazee must have been a foulmouth extrodinaire. And that's all we're going to mention about that.
What's overlooked in all of this curse hype, is that this is simply another in a long gray chain of shitty days for St. Louis sports. For a baseball town, this is one of the greyest and shittiest (though not the Cheney-est) day of them all. Maybe not the absolute worst, but certainly Top 5. It's Worse than the Greatest Show on Turf's backslide without Mr. Warner, worse than another hockey-less day, (though at least we don't have Keenan lurking around town) and even worse than losing Jack.
You might disagree with me on that last one, but I get the feeling that he'd rather see the Redbirds come out a winner. Besides, he's got a much better seat nowadays. I imagine the concessions are better there as well.
Yesterday was nothing short of a travesty. The winningest team of the season gets swept by arguably the most famous bunch of perpetual losers in American sports history? It's heartbreaking for sure. I wouldn't be surprised if Bill Buckner is sitting in a lawn chair underneath the Arch, pointing and laughing at everyone that walks by. After this many years, he's earned it. And once again, St. Louis gets to play the chump.
Perhaps he could get the Gretz to pull up a seat and share a cold one with him...