I’m thinking about starting a sportsball blog because sportsball. But until I figure out whether I have enough to say, and because Kind of a Hater is in part a critique of the media, and because I think shaming SFGate and the San Francisco Chronicle for foisting the cliched mess that is Scott Ostler upon us, I provide the choice cuts of his article, “SF 49ers run all over Packers, 45-31.”
(SF 49ers? As if anyone would think they were from anywhere but San Francisco. Gawd.)
"Jim Harbaugh has the Midas touch, and we’re not talking about mufflers."
Zing? That’s the first line, mind you. Second line:
“Harbaugh climbed out of a UFO two years ago and took the 49ers' job, and turned San Francisco's bumbling losers into instant winners.”
UFO? Third line:
“He touched washed-up quarterback Alex Smith and turned him into a gunslinger disguised as a CPA.”
Not only is Ostler wringing out metaphors that make no sense — UFO? CPA? WTF? — he gives us a bonus round of mixed metaphors! Fuck. Fourth line:
“Then Harbaugh replaced the red-hot Smith with Colin Kaepernick, the kid from nowhere (actually Turlock, a suburb of Nowhere). Gold, gold, gold. And Saturday night, a golden win for the ages.”
So Ostler is giving us non-metaphor, a CPA and a “kid from nowhere” — which obviously has something to do with gold (too bad he failed to throw in “There’s gold in them there hills!” because that almost works, given the geography he mentions, but alas, Ostler isn’t a writer) — to connect everything to the “Midas touch.”
You know, Midas? That space alien?
End metaphor mangling.
The rest of the piece is just as hard to read. Read at your own peril — but remember to duck as his dumbass nicknames for the stars of the game come flying your way, because they are dangerous to look at.
Look, I get you’re excited. But seriously, take a moment to think before you vomit words on your computer and turn it in for a paycheck, Ostler.
My awesome friend Jessy (her words, but true) pointed this article out to me and read through it, out loud, with pointed commentary, as I snorted and died from pure disgust. She actually should have written this, but she didn’t. Generally, I avoid Scott Ostler because, ew, gross. But this was just a shameful, shameful shitting upon the language and it had to be discussed.