Bruce Willis

USA Today

John McClane's First Pitch

He’s John McLane. Not John McFlurry.

May 16, 2019 - 10:51 am
Categories: 

Forget the preamble. Forget the set up. Forget burying lede. Let me just get right to it so we can move on to much more important things.

Bruce Willis—yes, thee Bruce Willis—did not have good day yesterday in Philly. Or on Twitter. And he’s probably not going to have a good day on this show.

Because yesterday at Citizen’s Bank Park before the Phillies/Brewers game—Bruce Willis—who lives just 30 miles away from the city—threw out the ceremonial first pitch. And let me just say, for the record, that throwing out the first pitch at any game is a lose-lose proposition. Fire a strike and no one cares. Go all 50-Cent with it and you’re trending on a loop for an entire news cycle.

Bruce didn’t do either of those things. But he did enough to get booed by the City of Brotherly Hate. Which is an extremely low bar in Philly. And that’s because Bruce opted to fire his pre-game heater from the grass instead of the mound and still didn’t put enough mustard on it to reach the dish.

That’s the familiar sound of a horse crap eating town booing a Hollywood legend who just spiked his pitch from 40 feet. Never mind that one of the most famous people on the planet took time out of his day to show up to the yard on a random Wednesday. Showing up isn’t good enough in Philly. They wanted Steve Carlton and they got Dave Coggin instead.

That failed first pitch was enough to get national run last night and this morning. But if the booing in Philly was predictable—then the Jungle’s reaction to the unflattering pictures of Bruce Willis was a stone cold lock.

And right as the photo dropped on the internet of Willis looking like he was smuggling a bowling ball under his Phillies gamer—the tweets started to flood my mentions.

Let me be crystal clear on something. This is a huge Bruce Willis house. The Die Hard movie poster hung in my last studio for over a decade. And if I didn’t have these TV monitors behind me—you best believe that same framed artwork would still be up right now. So I hate what you guys are doing to my guy.

It’s Die Hard. Not Fry Hard.

It’s The Sixth Sense. Not The Sixth Meal.

It’s The Whole Night Yards. Not The Whole Nine Lards.

He’s John McLane. Not John mcflurry.

I’ll tell you it was beneath him to throw out a first pitch on a Wednesday night to a stadium that was only a quarter full. You’ll tell me he has no idea what’s beneath him anymore because he can’t see past his spare tire.

I’ll tell you to get off the guy for missing the plate. You’ll tell me it’s the first plate he’s missed in quite some time.

Look, I’m gonna choose to remember the time he crawled through the air ducts at the Nakatomi Plaza and saved the day. So you can just delete the e-mails about how the same air ducts would have come crashing down through the ceilings if Bruce Vilanch Willis tried it again today.

I can already predict the lame tweet a thousand of your writing right now. You know—the one that goes; Welcome to party, pal! Signed, Beaks, Charlie Weiss, and Ryan Fitzfatrick.

Bruce Willis did not crack the Liberty Bell by sitting on it. And he didn’t eat his pregame meals at both Pat’s and Geno’s.

It’s—I see dead people.

Not, I see banana bread, people.

Man, get off this guy. He’s Bruce freaking Willis. He’s 64 years old and still a badass. He’s given us some the best movies of all time like the Expendables. Not the Expandables.

Put some freaking respect on it.

If you wanna kill the guy for spiking the pitch from the grass--go ahead. But don't ask me to play the alarm. Because I'm not gonna do it. Not to this dude. 

For the millionth time. Keep moving.