Look At This Fat Fuckin' Piece Of Shit Pablo Sandoval

Look at this fat fuckin' piece of shit. Are you kidding me, dude?

You ever hear the term "fat and happy" before? Like, this player got fat and happy as in he got paid and then stopped caring? Pablo Sandoval is actually just fat and happy in every literal sense of the word. AND he stopped caring. Clearly. Disgustingly fat and unjustifiably happy. I am repulsed by this individual. But they love him in San Francisco because he has a cool nickname and contributed to a World Series eight years ago. They always credit him with three rings, but he was on the bench for one. Being fat.

People forget the only reason why he didn't re-sign with the Giants when he became a free agent was because they wanted him to sign a fat clause and he knew he wouldn't be able to meet the standards so he signed with the dumbass Red Sox who made the same offer from a dollar standpoint, minus the fat clause. They ended up trading him halfway through the contract, EATING the most money ever to get rid of a dogshit player in history. Great call!

I actually had a former teammate of his tell me that he used to put Coca Cola in his Gatorade bottles during games and then get taken out innings later because he was cramping up. Remember when he showed up to spring training with his gut hanging out over his shorts after having the worst statistical season of his life in 2015 and was like, "I have nothing to prove," after cashing John Henry's checks, and then his belt exploded? I don't think I'll hate anyone more than I hate Pablo Sandoval. I should be enjoying my Fourth of July -- and don't get me wrong, I am -- but I'm currently inside blogging about this fat piece of shit.

I'm going outside now.