In fact, I’m pretty positive somewhere between all the bad words there was a "its about $#%*ing time".
I understand completely...honestly I do.
I've been pissed for the longest time for the simple fact that I haven’t received any emails, not counting an awesome email from a buddy that worked at the Mississippi Braves complex...what up Marty?
Anyway, back to the fact that I haven’t gotten any emails, complaints, nothing in regards to the article – or lack thereof.
So I just assumed all of you forgot about me and decided you’d rather listen to Jim Rome, or all the sugercoaters about the adventures of minor league seasons and offseasons. Its ok though, Jim Rome has a lot of experience and great insights, oh, and yeah his facial hair is always aligned correctly, so he is probably a better source.
Now, for those of you who after watching the movie ‘Brewster’s Millions’ didn’t go out and actually vote "none of the above", wow, lets get into it a little.
Some very important news, I have a new agent. I decided to go another way earlier in the season, and Herbie Zucker came in to save the day. Not just as an agent, but as most of you know that have read these things, I have issues.
Herbie came in and helped me erase a lot of the weight that I had awkwardly stuffed in my coin slot. Yes, most people have weight on their shoulders, but my shoulders were full, so other places had to be occupied.
Anyway, the first few starts I had were not the best and I signed with Herbie, and I just focused on baseball.
Preciate you Herbie, Steve, and Robert, you guys kept me and my brain in a minor league uniform instead of a uniform that consists of my arms being strapped to my back, and sleepin’ in a padded room.
Ahhhhh...lets jump straight into a little scuffle I had in Jackson, Tennessee.
So lets see, I’m out at Tequila Joes, just having a few drinks with some of our boys and some of the Jaxx players. Playing pool is always fun with the boys because naturally every guy that picks up a pool stick gets pissed if he doesn’t make that four bumper triple combo that all the pros make.
We are playin’ and I proceed to walk up toward a few of the Jaxx players just to shoot the breeze. They are up on the stage area or whatever just a few steps up from the dance floor.
I’m talkin’ with them and this girl decides to walk over to our table, I’m standing up and she begins to dance, leaning over right in front of me.
She lifts her skirt, and right as I’m “whoa whoa whoaing,” this suicidal brainiac proceeds to launch me ten feet in the air into like 8 chairs and 4 tables. I think I even landed on a drunk dude, though I’m not quite sure.
I was a little confused, and a little floaty-eyed because somebody told me that if I didn’t drink those three double grey goose and cranberries that I would never be able to breath out of my left nostril, nor would I be able to chew food with my two front teeth ever again. Now with that information I just felt that I needed to be able to breath out of both nostrils and I like my two front teeth, they are so big - they build character – I had to drink them.
Anyway, I jumped back up and threw a chair, not necessarily cuz I was mad, but how many times do you get to throw a chair in a public place and not get thrown out because of that?
I walked straight toward him, grabbed him by the shirt and back peddled his ass about ten steps and tackled him into some more restaurant slash club seating. We rolled around a few times, and then surprisingly there was an ‘ahhh’ in the crowd to see the shaved bird winning. I then threw a few wild thing punches, you know, when Rick Vaughn is fighting Willie Mays Hays and his punches just aren’t gettin’ the reach he needed. Hey, he had my shirt, and the roadhouse tuff guys were tryin’ to pull me off, so obviously I wasn’t at my best, but it did the job. Then I was lifted up by the boys that were all wearing their bouncer t-shirts that were all, of course, size shmedium. Translation, like in between a small and a medium.
They helped me to the door, but the kicker was that the other jerkoff didn’t get booted.
It’s ok though, the manager told me to come back the next day and my drinks would be free. I went back, the first drink was free, and the rest were not. By the way, that place was brutal.
Yes, I went back because drinks were said to have been on the house, otherwise, I would have been at the hotel, debating on whether or not to drink the $9 bottle of water that was sitting on the dresser.
Anyway, there’s that little story, and I would like to know if this article is really missed on the website........I dunnoooooo......hit me but for now…peace!