Here you go.

go.

go. Dumpster Fire. That's the Nothing Personal Word of the Day. It's Thursday, May 30th,

2004. 8 a.m. Eastern here on the East Coast. Have you ever wanted the ice cream truck to come

so badly or you wanted a great thing that's happening in your life, an event, a game, a moment, and you're just

waiting and it seems like you're watching the clock.

Tick, Tick, Tick, tick, tick. Eight o'clock. I mean when you're up at three, you got five hours to go.

You plan sort of what's going to happen in the five hours. You want to get to the show because you can't believe that you get to use dumpster

fire as a word of the day. You can't believe you get to go through everything that's going on

with Steve Conan his Mets. And you take such a perverse pleasure in the

idiocy that is that organization and you almost feel badly.

That's what I spent a lot of my preparation

last night this morning thinking about.

At what point is it so bad for a team and an owner that it actually becomes

something that you've got sympathy for or empathy? Well I won't have that but sympathy for.

and then I realized as we were counting down to the live show and it's in my ear five, four,

and all of a sudden weird eyes came over as though I was the AI guy in Atlas.

I got these blue, her pupils and I said empathy sympathy.

Let's start with what happened in the Met's Day. It's too good.

Edwin Diaz stinks is owed so much money.

Gets demoted back to clothes or gives it up

and then out of nowhere yesterday,

...