If we can speak candidly for a moment, there's like a 50/50 shot at BEST that I outlive Mike Francesa. So I'm here right now to try and cover all my bases. If I do die before da Pope, please someone forward him in this blog in hopes that he'll pen me the eulogy I deserve. Too often sentiment clouds our words during such an emotional moment, but not Number 1. Straight to the chase, no frail shit. "Horace Clarke died? I could've sworn he was a corpse every time he dug into the batter's box. God better not let this 0 WAR scrub wear his pinstripes inside da Pearly Gates. I hope his wife and children are well." Incredible and entirely unique way to send someone to the great beyond. Who could forget the sendoff he gave the great Stan Lee:
While comic book nerds were crying into their mother's sofas Francesa was busy telling it like it is. "Spider-Man? The only person slinging their web all over New York that I respect is Mickey Mantle. Nonsense." If it wasn't on the sports page it wasn't coming across Mike's radar. And even if it was on the sports page, if you stunk? Better not die on Francesa's watch because he'll bury you twice. Which is exactly why I need to write this, in case I do defy the odds and outlive this great orator and wordsmith. There needs to be an app like Cameo but it's just for prerecorded Francesa eulogies. That's how he should spend his newly minted free time - escorting people to the grave. It's an untapped market with a massive clientele. Hit my line, Mr. Francesa, let's build.