I found even more Schilling hatred on the interrowang today:
A hose beast by the name of Laura Vecsey had this to say in a recent piece in the Baltimore Sun (reg. req'd):
Even factoring in the sour grapes, word out of New York is that some Yankees players wouldn't put it past Schilling to dab his sock with red magic marker, or apply generous amounts of Mercurochrome - anything to amplify the Red Sox's amazing postseason run and, of course, to hoist his stature.
As inspirational and impressive as he is on days he pitches, that's how annoying and insufferable Curt Schilling is on all other days.
Yesterday was particularly bad because Schilling had a microphone in front of him instead of a batter and was called upon to talk about his three favorite subjects: Me, myself and I.
And then later the following, which shows nothing except the author's inability to construct a sensible English sentence (and trust me, there's no hidden context that makes this any more understandable):
Yet it's hard to fathom a player who's more self-centered, self-aggrandizing and in-your-face than the con man they call "Shill."