Arturo Neto
2.5K posts

Arturo Neto
@ArturoNeto
Investment Manager - Baseball Fan
Houston, TX Katılım Mart 2012
649 Takip Edilen406 Takipçiler

🚨WEIRD PLAY ALERT🚨
This is from tonight’s @BlueJays at @Angels game.
This ball hits Vladimir Guerrero, Jr. in the foot, but it went uncalled, and Zach Neto for obvious reasons bobbled the ball, which was ruled a fielder’s choice and an error (making R1 safe at second)
Normally, a ball that hits a runner is dead and the batter is awarded a single, but since this wasn’t called, the scorer has to rule the play as no interference, and so it’s an error.
Neto can appeal, but the fact the ball does change direction cannot be factored into the appeal, as it was ruled to not have touched Guerrero.
#BlueJays50 #RepTheHalo
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@EdgardR Ok @ZachNeto25 it’s early but I already know what you need to work on this offseason….español!
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@patgotweet @JamesTate121 So the people you know hate ALL democrats but not all MAGA are the same? Hmmm sounds like a double standard.
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@JamesTate121 This doesn’t define a single Trump supporter I know. The ones I know hate Democrats. That’s it. It’s not very deep.
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Very well written essay on the MAGA voter. This is what we are up against.
Sam is 61 years old and lives in a town where the Applebee’s closed in 2014 and people still mention it like it was a natural disaster. The old factory shut down years ago, but Sam keeps his faded employee badge in a kitchen drawer because he considers it proof that America peaked sometime around 1987, right between the release of Top Gun and the invention of low-flow toilets. He firmly believes the country began collapsing the moment they stopped letting people smoke in restaurants and started putting kale in things.
He wakes up every morning at 5:12 a.m., not because he has anywhere to be, but because decades of shift work, untreated sleep apnea, and permanent low-grade outrage have hardwired his body into a permanent state of agitation. He shuffles into the kitchen wearing camouflage pajama pants and a T-shirt that says “I Stand for the Flag” even though he has not stood up quickly without groaning since 2009. He pours himself coffee strong enough to power farm equipment and settles into his recliner to begin his daily ritual of becoming personally offended by things happening hundreds or thousands of miles away. Within half an hour, he is enraged about crime in Chicago, drag queens in Seattle, wind turbines in California, and a college professor in Vermont he has never heard of and never will again.
Sam spends most of his time marinating in an ecosystem of Facebook memes, talk radio, Fox News, chain emails, YouTube clips, and badly designed websites with names like Patriot Eagle Freedom Truth News. By noon, he has shared seven posts warning that America is under attack by socialists, immigrants, vegans, pronouns, electric stoves, and people who use the phrase “lived experience.” He believes every story because every story confirms what he already feels: that the country has been stolen from people like him and handed over to people he does not understand.
Sam is absolutely convinced he is one of the last remaining “real Americans,” despite living in a county entirely populated by people who also think they are the last remaining real Americans. He misses the America of his youth, which in his memory was a magical place where every man had a factory job, every woman made tuna casserole, every child respected authority, and nobody had tattoos, gluten allergies, or opinions about gender. He is nostalgic for a version of the country that mostly exists as a combination of old pickup truck commercials, Toby Keith songs, and stories his grandfather exaggerated after three beers.
His truck is the size of a military vehicle and has never once carried anything heavier than mulch and emotional baggage. His pickup truck is so large that small birds alter their migration patterns to avoid it. The truck has never hauled lumber, gravel, or equipment, but it does haul an enormous amount of political anxiety. The back is covered in bumper stickers warning that he is armed, angry, and deeply suspicious of the federal government, except for when it comes to Medicare, Social Security, highways, farm subsidies, police funding, veterans’ benefits, and keeping its hands off his lawn. He likes to tell people he is “not political,” which is impressive considering his entire personality has become an endless loop of cable news grievances.
He cannot attend a barbecue, church picnic, football game, or grandchild’s birthday party without eventually bringing up inflation, Hunter Biden, gas stoves, “the border,” or how nobody can say Merry Christmas anymore even though literally everyone still says Merry Christmas.
Then Trump arrived, descending from his golden escalator like a casino-themed prophet sent by God to sell steaks and grievance. Sam had finally found his perfect candidate: a billionaire from Manhattan with multiple mansions, gold-plated bathrooms, and a private jet, who somehow convinced Sam that he understood the pain of a man screaming at the self-checkout machine in Walmart.
Trump was loud, angry, theatrical, and constantly under investigation, which only made Sam admire him more. Every lawsuit, scandal, or indictment was not evidence of wrongdoing. It was proof that Trump was fighting the deep state, the media, the elites, the globalists, the FBI, the Democrats, the RINOs, and possibly the ghost of George Soros.
Every scandal, every lawsuit, every indictment, every accusation became proof that Trump was fighting the corrupt establishment on behalf of “real Americans” like Sam.
At this point, Sam does not support Trump because of policy details. He supports Trump because Trump has become the human embodiment of his anger, nostalgia, confusion, and Facebook feed. Trump says the world Sam remembers can come back, that the people Sam dislikes can be punished, and that all of Sam's frustrations are someone else’s fault.
To Sam, Trump is no longer just a politician. He is a lifestyle brand. He is a martyr, a warrior, a stand-up comedian, a victim, a patriot, and the lead singer of a traveling grievance festival. Sam owns at least three Trump hats, two Trump flags, a Trump coffee mug, a “Never Surrender” T-shirt, and a giant “Let’s Go Brandon” sign in the garage that he insists is “not political, just funny.”
For Sam, that is not politics. That is therapy. Trump is not just a candidate anymore; he is an emotional support billionaire.
He is a spray-tanned security blanket with a private jet. He is the gold-plated, fast-food-fueled mascot Sam clings to whenever the modern world feels confusing, threatening, or insufficiently patriotic.
Trump gives him a ready-made explanation for every disappointment in his life: it is not aging, bad luck, economic change, or his own choices; it is the immigrants, the liberals, the media, the globalists, the vegans, the people with pronouns, and whoever is ruining Christmas this week.
Supporting Trump lets Sam believe there is still someone out there fighting for him.

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@allenanalysis Can we please send a negotiator that does not have smallpenisitis
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It’s over.
JD Vance just announced that the Iran-US negotiations are dead.
“They have chosen not to accept our terms.”
Both delegations are going home.
No deal. No nuclear commitment. No Lebanon ceasefire. No Strait reopened.
No frozen assets. No reparations.
21 hours of talks. A war that has killed thousands. A ceasefire that Israel bombed through from day one.
A 30-nation coalition is being assembled. Two Navy destroyers are clearing mines right now.
These next few weeks will be pivotal. Eyes peeled.
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@DesireeAmerica4 @grok what are the effects on the heart from caffeine? In large doses?
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A 17-year-old Texas cheerleader is dead, and the cause of death is a “lifestyle.”
Now her family is filing a wrongful death lawsuit.
Larissa Nicole Rodriguez had no pre-existing conditions. No drugs. The medical examiner was clear: her heart enlarged and failed from massive caffeine overload caused by drinking Alani Nu energy drinks every day.
These companies market a “better-for-you” wellness vibe while selling 200mg stimulant bombs to kids chasing focus and performance. No clear daily limit. No bold warnings for minors. Just inconspicuous text that acts as a legal shield.
Parents, read the fine print. The system isn’t going to protect your kids, it’s going to invoice them.
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@Daffydre2 If only I didn’t have to go searching for the movie title. Still haven’t found it
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@SublimeSun @Chase_B5 @discussbaseball You’re right, Chase Burns has never thrown a fastball down the middle that all major leaguers can hit out of the park. That must be the first time he ever throws that pitch! 😂
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