"Where the are no expectations, there is no disappointment."

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Fandomination

As we all know, being a Nats fan can be a tumultuous task. Supporting and defending a team that perennially ranks at the bottom of the league is a skill that takes much more effort than that which is given by fans of some of the more successful franchises.

For most of us, we 'Get [our] Red On' by purchasing season tickets, owning multiple jerseys or other attire, or even going as far as starting a blog on which to air our mutual grievances.

But for at least one Nats fan, supporting the team means much, much more.

It means putting in the work in the offseason by prepping both the body and mind for 162 games.

It means lining up his Opening Day outfit in advance so that opposing fans will know not to try to mess with him.

It means not just going on one spending splurge at the Nats store, but constantly re-patronizing the food and beer dispensaries to keep Nats stadium and its employees afloat.

It means not idly sitting by to watch a game, but planting himself in an aisle and not moving come hell or high water.

This man is not afraid to let everyone around him know that, damn it, he is a Nats fan first, so much so that even his own health takes a back seat to the MLB season.

This man, just by his sheer existence, declares, "I love baseball and the Washington Nationals so much that I throw well known and established social and personal rules aside and get my Nats fandom all up in your face!"




I salute you fellow Nats fan. Your bold disregard for everyone around you and your own well being is a clear indicator that you don't care about anything but the Washington Nationals.

Your tunnel visioned fandom is as inspirational as your girthy existence is repulsive. If every Nats fan had even 1/10th the amount of juicy fandom built up inside of them as you clearly do, the Nats would be crushed under the weight of local support.

Classic Nats? Nay, I say this is one fine example of Classy Nats.

West Coast Classic Nats

In a classic Nats move, at Wednesday night's game against the Houston Astros, San Francisco Giants outfielder Eugenio Velez played 2 innings in a misspelled jersey. While the Dominican-born Velez did acknowledge he was unaware that the 'San Francicso' across his chest contained transposed consonants, it's most likely safe to assume someone with a better handle on the English language was the first to catch the error.

Whether or not this brazen attempt to catch the eyes of Nats majority owner Ted Lerner will result in a forthcoming trade offer is yet to be seen, but I know at least one Washington fan who always eagerly awaits Misspelled Jersey Day at Nats Park. Will it be 'Natinals' again? Or maybe 'Nationas'? How about 'Natonals'? There's a whole plethora of awsome optins.

For my money, I'm hoping the Nats take the unprecedented move of wearing an away jersey proclaiming 'Washiton'. Not only does this proposed jersey have a curse word right square in the middle, but I think there's real potential for this to become a new Nats cheer. As in, don't just get your red on Nats fans, "Wash It On! Wash It On!"

7th Inning Stretch

An appropriate 7th inning stretch song is about as essential to the game of baseball as George Will and references to obscure trivia. It represents the point in the game at which slightly inebriated fans join together to collectively celebrate (or mourn) their team’s performance on the diamond. As one can imagine, the choice of what song to play during the 7th inning is of considerable consequence.

Last season, the Washington Nationals adopted the following song as their 7th inning stretch anthem…Classic Nats…

Oh, that's the way, uh-huh uh-huh,
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.
That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh,
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.
That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh,
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.
That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh,
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.
When you take me by the hand,
Tell me I'm your loving man,
When you give me all your love,
And do it the very best you can,
Oh, that's the way, uh-huh uh-huh,
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.
That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh,
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.
That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh,
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.
That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh,
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.
When I get to be in your arms,
When we're all all alone,
When you whisper sweet in my ear,
When you turn, turn me on,
Oh, that's the way, uh-huh uh-huh,
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.
That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh,
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.
That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh,
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.
That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh,
I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh.

While the Nationals’ season is only 1 game old (0-1), they have demonstrated at least a rudimentary ability to improve on last season’s worst-in-the-majors performance in this critical category…. Yet despite this improvement, they’re still batting at Classic Nats level….

Pack it up, pack it in
Let me begin
I came to win
Battle me that's a sin
I won't tear the sack up
Punk you'd better back up
Try and play the role and the whole crew will act up
Get up, stand up, come on!
Come on, throw your hands up
If you've got the feeling jump across the ceiling
Muggs is a funk fest, someone's talking junk
Yo, I'll bust em in the eye
And then I'll take the punks home
Feel it, funk it
Amps it are junking
And I got more rhymes than there's cops that are dunking
Donuts shop
Sure 'nuff I got props from the kids on the Hill
Plus my mom and my pops

I came to get down [2x]
So get out your seats and jump around
Jump around [3x]
Jump up Jump up and get down.
Jump [18x]
I'll serve your ass like John MacEnroe
If your steps up, I'm smacking the ho
Word to your moms I came to drop bombs
I got more rhymes than the bible's got psalms
And just like the Prodigal Son I've returned
Anyone stepping to me you'll get burned
Cause I got lyrics and you ain't got none
So if you come to battle bring a shotgun
But if you do you're a fool, cause I duel to the death
Try and step to me you'll take your last breath
I gots the skill, come get your fill
Cause when I shoot ta give, I shoot to kill

I'm the cream of the crop, I rise to the top
I never eat a pig cause a pig is a cop
Or better yet a terminator
Like Arnold Schwarzenegger
Try'n to play me out like as if my name was Sega
But I ain't going out like no punk bitch
Get used to one style and you know I might switch
It up up and around, then buck buck you down
Put out your head then you wake up in the Dawn of the Dead
I'm coming to get ya, coming to get ya
Spitting out lyrics homie I'll wet ya

Yo, this is dedicated
To Joe, da flava, Dakota
Grag yo bozac, punk