"Every time I turn on the tv, these damn kids with their yelling and their carrying on are polluting my sports network. Whether it's those socialist Euros or the west-coast Seattle liberals, all I see is a bunch of snot-nosed little bastards hot-dogging it for the camera. The only part I like is when they cry. Good! They deserve to cry! They went out there begging for attention, and they got it, boy. They got it good. Life isn't all fun and games. It's the summer- these kids should be working."
"It's wonderful. I think it's just wonderful. I see these kids out there, playing with pure joy, and I think 'yes, yes, yes.' These are children at peace. This is the opposite of war. This how life looks, uncorrupted. They are wild like deer, ashimmer like the moon. I would like to ride with them all on the back of a giant dove, straight into a violet sunset. Namaste."
"It was not that he died, but rather how he died. Perhaps I expected him to be stoic, like a pitcher from Taiwan who has just failed his team. Because that's what happened, you understand- he failed. And what a failure! I didn't stop laughing for days. But no, he blubbered. He blubbered like a child from Hamilton, Ohio, who has just understood his own weakness but cannot control it. The American championship game? Oh no, not for that town. Not on this calendar. The man did not earn my respect as he acted out his own death, and therefore my bitter take on this life remains unchanged. I feel I cannot trust a single person."
"Little League World Series, huh? Well, I'd love to help you out, but I have to admit I haven't caught much of it. Summer's pretty busy here, at the taco truck. By the way, I don't want to pressure you too much, but you still owe me for those three burritos from July...yeah, absolutely, that's cool. No rush on that one."
(Internal struggling...you can tell it wants to say something, and maybe it almost does. But in the end, it can't. It's silence.)
"Don't look now, mister, but I'll tell ye a secret: I GOT THREE SHOES ON! Wooo-eeee! You looked, didn't ya! I saw it! And I wasn't lying! They don't call me Ole Three Shoes Billy for nothing! Two just ain't enough! Good golly, what a world! I pick Japan to win it all."
"Man, let me tell you something. If I was the coach of that league, I would be juicing those little motherfuckers up from day one. No kidding, man, needles and everything. Roids, HGH, Andro, maybe some of that shit weightlifters use that makes them sterile. I don't even give a shit. These little shits would be hitting home runs in their sleep. Every game would be mercy rule, baby. Every fucking one. Then we'd go home and juice up and beat our wives until the anger passes. I don't care if they don't have wives, homes, I'll get them some no problem. That's how I live, pendejo. Get used to it."