While I defended Hiroki Kuroda‘s choice to sign with the New York Yankees even if it was simply a financial decision (much like Jon Weisman and Mike Petriello did), his detractors look even stupider today after it was revealed that he wasn’t even given an offer by the Los Angeles Dodgers.
Hiroki Kuroda confirmed what Dodgers General Manager Ned Colletti said earlier this month: Colletti remained in contact with his agent until he decided to sign with the New York Yankees three weeks ago.
Kuroda said the Dodgers were exploring ways they could fit him onto their roster, even though they had already signed free-agent starters Aaron Harang and Chris Capuano.
“They were unable to ever make a formal offer,” Kuroda said in Japanese. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”
The Japanese right-hander took a one-year $10-million contract with the Yankees that included a full no-trade clause. The deal was officially announced this week.
Yeah, sorta stupid to argue about loyalty when the team didn’t even give him a chance to make that an issue.
So is he still a “worthless piece of crap”?
I hope that Hiroki Kuroda signs with the Colorado Rockies, mostly because he is a worthless piece of crap who has the brains of a snail. Other than that, I think he’s a wonderful idiot! Hiroki loved the Dodgers so much that he refused a traded to a team (BoSox) where he might have won a World Series (and cost the Dodgers a really nice pick) because he only wanted to play major league baseball for his beloved Dodgers. Now, since the Dodgers have signed Chris Capuano, and he sees that he is not in the Dodgers plans (he said he wasn’t sure he wanted to play in America in 2012), he now wants to be a HO and sign with whoever pays him.
Screw you Hiroki, you worthless piece of crap. You swine. You vulgar little maggot. You worthless bag of filth. As they say in Texas, you couldn’t pour water out of a boot with instructions printed on the heel. You are a canker, an open wound. I would rather kiss a lawyer than be seen with you. You took your last vacation in the Islets of Langerhans.
You’re a putrescent mass, a walking vomit. You are a spineless little worm deserving nothing but the profoundest contempt. You are a jerk, a cad, and a weasel. I take that back; you are a festering pustule on a weasel’s rump. Your life is a monument to stupidity. You are a stench, a revulsion, a big suck on a sour lemon.
I will never get over the embarrassment of belonging to the same species as you. You are a monster, an ogre, a malformity. I barf at the very thought of you. You have all the appeal of a paper cut. Lepers avoid you. You are vile, worthless, less than nothing. You are a weed, a fungus, the dregs of this earth. You are a technicolor yawn. And did I mention that you smell?
You are a squeaking rat, a mistake of nature and a heavy-metal bagpipe player. You were not born. You were hatched into an unwilling world that rejects the likes of you. You didn’t crawl out of a normal egg, either, but rather a mutant maggot egg rejected by an evil scientistas being below his low standards. Your alleged parents abandoned you at birth and then died of shame in recognition of what they had done to an unsuspecting world. They were a bit late, and we are weary of your ilk.
Not linking to where I got that, but I’m sure you know where it’s from.