Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Andre the Giant Dependent
Captain's Log, 6.29.09: 182 Days Since Last Employment
Note: For those who don't like baseball, please skip this post. My next one will involve cats...no really, it will.
I was originally set to post this entry Friday night, but as the Gods see fit not only to deny me the dignity of salaried employment but also the luxury of non-anachronistic comedy, the dude clubbed three homers and drove in six runs against the Mariners. However, as I only have about three semi-publishable ideas scribbled in my notebook at the moment, and the other two involve Michael Jackson-Farrah Fawcett child leukemia jokes, I've opted to go with the least objectionable option. Even if you include the three-homer anomaly, Ethier is hitting only .250 with 6 HR's and 23 RBI's in the post-Manny world, while he was hitting .317 with 8 HR and
27 RBI's before the suspension. So, without further ado, may I present the inner monologue of a typical Andre Ethier at-bat.
Scene: Bottom of the 6th inning, Dodgers trailing 3-2 to the Angels. James Loney smokes a clip and then leads off the inning like the stone-cold gangster he is and doubles into right-center. Russell Martin dutifully grounds out to the right side, advancing Loney to third, where he smokes another clip while telling Chone Figgins that he murders snitches everyday and that Chone's girlfriend better shut up about 'that one thing.'
PA Announcer: "Now batting, right fielder, number 16, Andre Ethier".
Ethier steps to the plate, while his favorite song, Nelly Furtado's "Fly Like a Bird", blasts over the stadium loudspeakers. He digs into the box.
Ethier Inner Monologue: "Ok Andre, settle in here, settle in, nice and easy, there you go, settle in. All you have to do is lift the ball in the air and get James home on a sac fly, tie this game up, and everybody will love you, just like they used to. Ok, who's pitching again? Lackey? He always starts you off with junk. Let's try taking this pitch, and getting ahead in the count, like Manny always....Don't lose your focus, just take this pitch."
Lackey zooms a fastball right down the heart of the plate. Strike one.
Ethier Inner Monologue: "Dammit. That was right in your wheelhouse. It's ok, everybody guesses wrong now and then....well, everybody except you know who. He would have crushed that pitch. He's so strong... Remember that time he hoisted you up on his shoulders in the clubhouse after the Cubs series, and let you play with his dreadlocks, and then afterwards he took you to the park and bought you your first ice cream sandwich? I wonder what he's doing right about..."
The umpire motions for Ethier to stop looking vacantly into the Dodgers dugout and step back into the box. Ethier obliges.
Ethier Inner Monologue: "Dammit Andre, focus!!! You have a job to do here. Ok, you're sitting 0-1, he just opened with the fastball. He has to go to the splitter now. Be ready for it, probably low and away. Man, he could never go low and away on Manny...Stop it Andre. Ok, get ready, here it comes."
Lackey pounds a fastball on the inside corner, strike two. Ethier steps out of the box and looks up at third base coach Larry Bowa, who along with Loney is slowly mouthing "hit the fucking ball". Ethier takes a couple practice swings and then looks at the clubhouse seats behind home plate, where Alyssa Milano is also slowly mouthing "hit the fucking ball."
Ethier Inner Monologue: "Man, Alyssa is so pretty. She's like an angel...a baseball angel."
Ethier mimics the "Angels in the Outfield" wing flap to Milano, who in turn clasps her head in her hands and sinks down further in her seat.
Ethier Inner Monologue: "Stupid! God you suck with girls. You know who is AWESOME with girls? Manny. Remember that time we were at Mr. Chow's, and Manny invited those two girls over from the bar, just like that, nothing to it? And then we all talked for hours and hours, and that one girl Angela said you had really delicate features, like a half-Asian Kate Moss. She was awesome. I wonder where her and her sister and Manny went after I paid?"
The umpire again motions Ethier to step into the box.
Ethier Inner Monologue: "Fuck me. Loney is gonna beat the shit out of me again if I don't get this run in. Goddammit Andre! You need to get over him. You can hit just as well as you did without him. You're the same man, aren't you? Aren't you?!?!?!...Am I?"
Ethier lunges at a splitter in the dirt, missing it by a good foot and a half. He sulks back to the dugout.
Ethier Inner Monologue: "July third, July third, July third, July third..."
Note: For those who don't like baseball, please skip this post. My next one will involve cats...no really, it will.
I was originally set to post this entry Friday night, but as the Gods see fit not only to deny me the dignity of salaried employment but also the luxury of non-anachronistic comedy, the dude clubbed three homers and drove in six runs against the Mariners. However, as I only have about three semi-publishable ideas scribbled in my notebook at the moment, and the other two involve Michael Jackson-Farrah Fawcett child leukemia jokes, I've opted to go with the least objectionable option. Even if you include the three-homer anomaly, Ethier is hitting only .250 with 6 HR's and 23 RBI's in the post-Manny world, while he was hitting .317 with 8 HR and
27 RBI's before the suspension. So, without further ado, may I present the inner monologue of a typical Andre Ethier at-bat.Scene: Bottom of the 6th inning, Dodgers trailing 3-2 to the Angels. James Loney smokes a clip and then leads off the inning like the stone-cold gangster he is and doubles into right-center. Russell Martin dutifully grounds out to the right side, advancing Loney to third, where he smokes another clip while telling Chone Figgins that he murders snitches everyday and that Chone's girlfriend better shut up about 'that one thing.'
PA Announcer: "Now batting, right fielder, number 16, Andre Ethier".
Ethier steps to the plate, while his favorite song, Nelly Furtado's "Fly Like a Bird", blasts over the stadium loudspeakers. He digs into the box.
Ethier Inner Monologue: "Ok Andre, settle in here, settle in, nice and easy, there you go, settle in. All you have to do is lift the ball in the air and get James home on a sac fly, tie this game up, and everybody will love you, just like they used to. Ok, who's pitching again? Lackey? He always starts you off with junk. Let's try taking this pitch, and getting ahead in the count, like Manny always....Don't lose your focus, just take this pitch."
Lackey zooms a fastball right down the heart of the plate. Strike one.
Ethier Inner Monologue: "Dammit. That was right in your wheelhouse. It's ok, everybody guesses wrong now and then....well, everybody except you know who. He would have crushed that pitch. He's so strong... Remember that time he hoisted you up on his shoulders in the clubhouse after the Cubs series, and let you play with his dreadlocks, and then afterwards he took you to the park and bought you your first ice cream sandwich? I wonder what he's doing right about..."
The umpire motions for Ethier to stop looking vacantly into the Dodgers dugout and step back into the box. Ethier obliges.
Ethier Inner Monologue: "Dammit Andre, focus!!! You have a job to do here. Ok, you're sitting 0-1, he just opened with the fastball. He has to go to the splitter now. Be ready for it, probably low and away. Man, he could never go low and away on Manny...Stop it Andre. Ok, get ready, here it comes."
Lackey pounds a fastball on the inside corner, strike two. Ethier steps out of the box and looks up at third base coach Larry Bowa, who along with Loney is slowly mouthing "hit the fucking ball". Ethier takes a couple practice swings and then looks at the clubhouse seats behind home plate, where Alyssa Milano is also slowly mouthing "hit the fucking ball."
Ethier Inner Monologue: "Man, Alyssa is so pretty. She's like an angel...a baseball angel."
Ethier mimics the "Angels in the Outfield" wing flap to Milano, who in turn clasps her head in her hands and sinks down further in her seat.
Ethier Inner Monologue: "Stupid! God you suck with girls. You know who is AWESOME with girls? Manny. Remember that time we were at Mr. Chow's, and Manny invited those two girls over from the bar, just like that, nothing to it? And then we all talked for hours and hours, and that one girl Angela said you had really delicate features, like a half-Asian Kate Moss. She was awesome. I wonder where her and her sister and Manny went after I paid?"
The umpire again motions Ethier to step into the box.
Ethier Inner Monologue: "Fuck me. Loney is gonna beat the shit out of me again if I don't get this run in. Goddammit Andre! You need to get over him. You can hit just as well as you did without him. You're the same man, aren't you? Aren't you?!?!?!...Am I?"
Ethier lunges at a splitter in the dirt, missing it by a good foot and a half. He sulks back to the dugout.
Ethier Inner Monologue: "July third, July third, July third, July third..."
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