Train, you may need to dot your tears with a homer hanky

I've spoken a bit about the sports talk radion guys here in SC. They suck balls. Namely, this guy.
His name is Bobby Hartin, and he's a total shithead. Anyway, today there was some babbling about the hall of famers at last night's all-star game. There were mentions of who was and wasn't at the game. It was inane and fucking terribly boring. Until this took place (almost verbatim):

Hartin: Well, what about Kirby Puckett? Where was he?

Sidekick (awkwardly): Kirby Puckett?

Hartin: Oh no. He's in JAIL ain't he?

Sidekick: I, um, think he may be dead.

...

Hartin: Jo-, um, what about Johnny Bench? Was he there?

Yes, Bobby. I suppose, since Puckett was an African-American, that if he isn't somewhere you think he should have been, then he has to be in jail. Unfortunately, he's already been killed by a bunch of gang-bangers when he was buying crack.

Right Bobby, you dumb fucking hick?