Malo Genuine Draft 

Monday was the night my ticket partners and I have been waiting for since October: the annual season ticket draft over burgers and pitchers, though an alarming number of participants, on this, our 7th Annual Draft, ordered caesar salads.

Excuse me, but Dodger Ticket Draft Night is about 400 miles south.

Hey pal, I'm just getting warmed up. Anticipating a season of nonstop heckling of The Suspiciously Muscular One, no doubt even in his own yard under our own hometown noses, El Lefty Malo brings you the best revenge: Werthless!: A Back-Pocket Guide to Bleacher Insults from the 1-3-8, presented in order of the tickets I drafted:

- Opening Day vs. Atlanta. "Lar-ry" is a old favorite, as is a sarcastic rendition of the Tomahawk Chop, but I prefer catching John Smoltz's eye and mouthing the words "1994 World Series Champs" while making an asterisk sign. Don't worry if you can't quite get the asterisk right; he'll know what you mean.

- A Thursday afternoon in May against the Cubs. Draft tip: always pick Cubs games. If you can't go, you can sell the tickets at a huge premium to a starry-eyed Cubs fan who really thinks this is the year Mark Prior stays healthy and leads the team to Nirvana. Same Cub fan will likely take great offense when you reveal that Harry Caray was a drunk, drooling bore.

- Three games against the Caesar Salad Eaters and the Big Canadian Retard. Boooooo.

- Two games in June against Florida. "Gimme an A! Gimme an A! Gimme an A! What's that spell? Triple-A!"

- The Brewers in June. "Hey Prince, from the looks of you, every day is spaghetti day!"

- A frigid August night against the Cincinnati Reds. Bronson Arroyo? "Home-town dis-count!"

- Arizona in September: Thirtybacks? "Hey Gonzo, you're older than El Duque!" Or insist on pronouncing Conor Jackson "Koh-nohr" as if he were a 1950s alien tyrant. "I am Koh-Nohr from the Planet Suckotron!"

If anyone in your section pulls out the cell phone during the game -- especially to wave his arms and say "Can you see me waving my arms?!" -- give him an earful of "Call your mommy later!" or "Watch the game!" or simply "Off the phone! Off the phone!"

And remember, keep it clean. Let's teach our children that one doesn't need to use foul language to be an elite heckler. And that when one's compatriots inquire if something's rather amiss with Gonzo, the proper answer is, "He in no uncertain terms is a bum."


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