Every year the United States graduates hundreds of thousands of students who will bawl over, who will treasure forever, who will associate their most heightened and individual and important memories with, a song called "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)"--a song that has no specific connection to their life and that is five years away from having plausibly been playing while they were conceived. Every year fathers and daughters who've had unique and beautiful relationships with each other commemorate them, in front of all the people they care about, with "Butterfly Kisses".
I'd judge them more explicitly than I did with those spite-italics, just now, only the 2004 St. Louis Cardinals and I cemented our unique and beautiful sports-blogger/favorite-team bond, back then, with a novelty cover of the Black Eyed Peas' "Let's Get It Started."
Having gotten retarded, in there, I'm inclined to be forgiving.
When I'm not imagining new ways to mention Weezer on RFT Music (there's one) I'm imagining new ways to mention Weezer at my day job, as a pretend sportswriter. I was just getting started in 2004, and that year's Cardinals are probably the reason the urge to write about them stuck.
They were remarkable: Albert Pujols, Jim Edmonds, and Scott Rolen each had seasons that would win an MVP in a normal year, and their cobbled-together starting rotation made 154 of 162 team starts, and--I could and-and-and for hours about that team, is the point. They were very clearly the best Cardinals team I would see in my lifetime, they were compelling and fun to watch, they even had my childhood favorite, the inexplicably despised Ray Lankford, backing up the outfielders after a year-long retirement.
And the song I'll remember them by is a remake of the Black Eyed Peas' breakout single, as performed by "local MC Sylk Smoov."
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