There's pine tar in the air and hypodermic needles in the trash bin, so it must be that time of hope again that is affectionately known as spring training. We have several of yesterday's superstar players trying to make it back to the fame and glory of big league baseball. First, a personal favorite of mine is Eric Gagne who's name no one can truly pronounce correctly, and is the son of the infamous former world wrestling champion Vern Gagne who is trying to come back, yet again, from a couple of miserable years spent recuperating from arm surgery. After countless years of incredible success, and a Cy Young award to boot, he is trying to prove he still can outwit the hitters he made look so hapless in the past. Someone, please tell him to lose the old dorky, Chris Sabo-type, aviator goggles. He looks like a Japanese zero. If it's supposed to be intimidating, then someone should tell him Chris Sabo's nickname was Spuds Mackenzie. Hardly, the moniker that could strike fear in anyone's heart.
And that us back to doe. I mean dough. Or is it fame that brings us the enigma known as Slammin' Sammy Sosa? After repeated denials that he took steriods, he was embroiled in controversy in Chicago who previously claimed him as their hero. But after walking out on his teammates during the last game of the season, and claiming he was misquoted for outright lying, he tried to prove all his critics that he was wrong as he was shipped out on his ego inflated ass to Baltimore where he made Corey Patterson (another Chicago Cub's castoff) look like a star. After bailing out, like he does with any inside pitch, Sosa decided to retreat to his palatial home and stare at his 20 foot likeness of himself that adorns his foyer. Now, why would anyone claim his ego is as big as his ass? So here he is in all his glory, and is hitting .500 for the Texas Rangers. Of course, spring training doesn't count, and there is a long season ahead of us, but hope springs eternal. And hopefully, for Sammy, some of those springs contain a little human growth hormone or steriods if he is to truly compete against the big boys. All it would take is one brush back pitch, and I would bet, Mr. Sosa, decides to high tail it back to his safe abode, and remember when he had the city of Chicago in his clutches. I'm hoping that in a few years they start a steriod league and have the Palmeiros and Bonds represented. My fear is that we would be fielding a double A ball team in Chicago, and would risk ending up with the worst record in the National League. But, hey!!!!
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11 comments:
I think if MH2U posted more often his commentary may be shorter.
Maybe Sammy Sosa would be a better contributor. We learned of his struggles with the English language at the congressional hearings. Perhaps his limited vocabulary would keep his posts succint.
The all steroid league is actually a great idea. Rather than completely ban performance enhancing drugs, perhaps baseball needs to embrace them - without the "wink, wink" this time. Sort of like the end of prohibition.
To further enhance the league, they should play in the smallest stadiums. I'm visualizing final scores that rival the best of the Arena Football League. And for the finishing touch, Pete Rose for Commissioner!
Actually, I think they should be put in gladiator garb and asked to run around the bases while taking fungo practice. You like gladiators don't you, Joey? Don't ask, don't tell.
As a final note, Pete Rozelle bet on baseball games, but Pete Rose never did, unless he could win some money.
Are you it wasn't Tokyo Rose who bet on football games while Gypsy Rose Lee ran around the sidelines in Dave Steart's jock strap?
You certainly rose to the occasion. I think it was actually Gennifer Flowers, bud.
I think I should stem the tide before you start to petal anymore of your punmanship.
Stop with your Pollen-anna attitude. It's about as effective as Cholo-form, and I've had my Phyll of this conversation. Remember, I still have that Photo of you playing the Synthesisizer in that 80's garage band where you thought you looked like Axl Rose in your Daisy Dukes.
I was just providing constructive criticism. There's no need for you to get violet. I'm growing impatiens with you. Keep it up and I just may have to say Hosta la vista, baby!
Stop salivating all over this post like a s-petunia, because you're really irrigating me. I'm trying to veg out, oakay? Do you dig?
Trying to veg? Good luck, I'm rooting for you. You don't scare me because I'm sure your bark is worse than your bite. In fact, why don't you pack your trunk and get the hell out of here! Open a branch of your company in Tahiti, why don't you. Just leave me alone.
I'm really bushed after reading this while listening to Robert Plant. Now, I need to brush my hair since I just got a trim today.
Interesting to know.
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