Earlier today I read where you said, in regards to a confrontation with Newsday’s Tim Healey, “I don’t think all the information is really out there.” This came a couple of days after you told Healey, “I’ll knock you the fuck out, bro.”
Jason, you’re full of shit. I know you’re full of shit and you know you’re full of shit. There’s no “all the information out there,” because unless Healey spit in your coffee while ridiculing your mother, no justification exists for “I’ll knock you the fuck out, bro.” Like, there are seven scenarios on the planet that call for “I’ll knock you the fuck out, bro.” They are:
• 1. Someone spits in your coffee while ridiculing your mother.
• 2. Someone ridiculed Hall and Oates.
• 3. Someone ridiculed the music of Hall and Oates.
• 4. Someone challenged you to a boxing match, said he’ll knock you out and thereby you replied, “No—I’ll knock you the fuck out, bro.”
• 5. Response to any sort of Donald Trump endorsement.
• 6. Someone threatened to kidnap you and your dog and take you both to a showing of “From Justin to Kelly.”
• 7. You’re preposterously dumb.
Jason, you feel empowered because you wear pajamas to work and make millions of dollars. You’re in a room surrounded by other people who wear pajamas and make millions. They probably have your back, because you’re one of them and Tim is one of us. But here’s the blessed reality of life: Soon, you will not wear pajamas to work and make millions. Soon, you will be the guy coaching at a junior college, people asking whether you ever played a little ball. And, to be 100 percent clear, nothing is wrong with that life. But your importance and exaggerated sense of self worth will melt away, while Tim Healey will—in all probability—still be hanging around the Majors.
So, truly, apologize, shut the fuck up and move on.