MM: Celebrity line ringin’ . . . Hey, it’s my old buddy, John Dewan from Baseball InfoSolutions.com. Heyyyyy, Johhhhnnnyyy . . . !!!
[cue 1950’s-sounding computer beeping and whirring]
JD: Murph, how’s it goin’?
MM: Awww, Johnny, what’ve you got for me today?
JD: Well, I’ve been really busy this week finishing up my new book, “Player Performance Ratings on Odd-Numbered Tuesdays After Masturbating,” so I only had time to come up with a real easy stat for you today. Let’s see if you know. What was the last Chicago team to win the World Series?
MM: Hmmm, well, let’s see, I like your angle . . . that would have to be the 1908 Cubs, right?
JD: Noooo . . . much more recent than that, MUCH more recent . . .
MM: More recent than 1908? Wow . . .
JD: Remember I said CHICAGO team, Murph, not just Cubs.
MM: Well, it wasn’t the ’69 Cubs, was it? I was a Bleacher Bum back then, y’know, blowin’ my trumpet, among other things! [rimshot] Aww, remember ol’ Willie Smith, God rest his soul, hitting that homer on Opening Day . . . Man, that team was loaded, like me on those Saturday nights in Carbondale! [rimshot]
JD: No, not the ’69 Cubs. Think other side of town . . .
MM: Other side? The West Side? Hey, Johnny, what’re ya’ tellin’ ol’ Murph here? The Bulls or the Blackhawks won the World Series? You’re pullin’ my leg. Hey, speaking of legs, how about some of that delicious Brown’s buttermilk-batter chicken for lunch? Brown’s . . . it . . . tastes . . . better. Mmm, I’m thinking of some of that creamy, sticky, milky-white batter right now, kind of dripping off my mouth and my luxuriant mustache . . .
JD: The question, Murph, the question . . .
MM: Well, what if . . . (wait a minute, gotta ring my what-if bell) . . . I said the 1984 Cubs? Aww, remember that Sandberg game against the Cardinals . . .
JD: If you said the 1984 Cubs, you’d be wrong again.
MM: Hmm, well, let’s see . . . it hasn’t been since Andy MacPhail (F-A-I-L, heh, heh!) took over . . . Hey, by the way, later today, we got What’s Your Tool and Beef of the Week, or whatever they are . . . I can’t even keep track anymore of what I’m doin’ here on these two-hour Murphapaloser—I mean Murphapalooza--shows! You know how I do Compressed Columns? Now my whole damn show is compressed! Hey, Fred, how’s the voting coming on Tool of the Week? Fred? Oh, that’s right, he’s not here anymore. They take away my sidekick, my morning gig, they lop two hours off my show, they steal my chair, they pour smelly chicken soup in the sink . . . what the hell kind of a place is this? What? Oh, OK, the question. Car-phone Bob thinks he knows.
Caller: Hey, Murph you dickwad, it was the 2005 White Sox!
MM: Let the record show, the caller called me a dickwad before I hung up on him!
JD: Well, Murph, I assume he lost his chance to be Caller of the Show with that remark, but he’s absolutely right. Just last October, you may recall, it was the . . .
MM: Ah, who cares? I’m going to go home and watch This Old Cub about 42 more times tonight and damn Boers & Bernstein, too, damn them to hell, for making fun of Ronnie Santo’s missing legs and of that guy I know who walked from Arizona to Chicago. And then people wonder why I don’t do cross-talk with those sons-of-bitches! And, John Dewan, screw you and your stats, too! Screw everyone here! I’m having an on-air meltdown right now! They give me all these crappy producers to work with and all these crappy time slots to fill and I get no respect around here! And idiots are on message boards ripping me daily and MacNeil is calling me a prick and saying I haven’t evolved. Evolve this, Mr. $600,000 a year! Yeah, you’re so funny and know so much about football. Geez, what do you expect? They team you with an ex-comedian and an ex-football player, for Christ’s sake! What do they give me to work with??!! NOTHING!!! Wally Phillips did cute drop-ins for 40 years and he was King of Chicago! I do them and everyone thinks I suck! Well, take this, Chicago . . .
[At this point, Murph totally loses control and presses every sound-effect and tape drop-in button he has, all at the same time, and the studio blows up in a huge mushroom cloud. Ironically, and poignantly, the only device left working is a single tape machine, which is pitifully and mournfully playing his closing theme, “Going Mobile,” as we focus in on the charred remains of Murph and then fade out.]
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