INTRO
I still don't have a good baseball story. Somehow I don't think we're too far from one. 1st off, the Grisslies are on the verge of going 0-3 or pulling out of an early season tail spin and going to 1-2. Either of those will be a story. Also we have the Guzzler's tournament this coming weekend. There is something bound to happen there with that cast of character.
But for today, nothing yet.
So, I've decided to give you a little insight into my messed up sense of humor, and how appropriate would that be on the heels of mothers day? Allow me to explain.
First off, if you didn't find my mom funny you'd end up slitting your wrists. That's probably more literal than you think. Actually, I'm not so sure how much to blame on my mom and how much to blame on growing up Sudbury. If you haven't been to Sudbury, save the gas. Its a great place to live, but I wouldn't want to visit it. For years I heard how there were no trees and the landscape was something between an REM video with abandoned buildings and a moonscape. I always thought that was mean and cynical.
Then I went back years later and the first thing I noticed was that there were no trees and the landscape was something between an REM video with abandoned buildings and a moonscape. God its ugly there. How could this be the birth place of Alex Trebek? Toe Blake? Joe Bowen? Randy Carlyle? Eddie Shack? The expression, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" applies to Sudbury.
The weather is brutal. In the month of January its 14 degrees colder there than Toronto on average. As mentioned there's no trees and the wind cuts like a knife. Your choices are laugh and get the hell out or cry and give up.
So add to that my mother's stories of woe and you'll see what I mean. Italians are funny. I remember watching Jewish comedians a as kid and thinking, 'man, that sounds like my family'. I've come to decide that Jews and Italians are separated at birth. Twins in a comedy sense, except for that Jesus thing. Oh, did I mention I'm 1/2 Italian? My mother is Italian, Dalla Vicenza. Despite my cake name, I seem to have gotten the traits from her side. My 6 foot tall blond, blue eyed brother got the other side, but he can at least make a decent sauce and wicked meat balls.
So, my mom has two phone greetings.
1. "hi". [borderline cheerful]
2. "(sigh), oh, hi dear". [depressed]
If you pick up the phone to #2, buckle up. The conversations will usually go like this.
Mom: [sigh] Oh hi dear.
Me: Hi mom, how's it going?
Mom: Oh, you know.
Me: What?
Mom: Oh, its Comare (Godmother) Lucia.
Me: Really? What happened to her?
Mom: Nothing, remember her cousin who lived across the street?
Me: Maybe.
Mom: You remember! Zio (Uncle) Giovanni!
Me: Okay, sure. What happened to him?
Mom: Nothing. Remember his son?
Me: No.
Mom: [loud] YOU REMEMBER! Carlo! You played together all the time!
Me: What, when I was 5?
Mom: [loud] YES, that Carlo! Your cousin!
Me: We're not related Ma, and I don't remember him.
Mom: [loud]Yes you do.
Me: Fine, I do. What's the matter with him?
Mom: [depressed again] Well, he got married to a girl. Italian girl.
Me: Good for him. Why's that a problem.
Mom: She's from the south.
Me: Not all bad
Mom: Well still.
Me: Did something happen to the wife? Did she bring bad luck to the family or something?
Mom: No. She's fine.
Me: So what's the problem?
Mom: Its the father.
Me: Who's the father?
Mom: [loud] Giovanni's wife's father!
Me: Oh. Okay. So what's the problem.
Mom: [depressed again] Well, you know he's blind.
Me: No Ma, I didn't know he existed 15 seconds ago. I didn't know he's blind.
Mom: [loud] Don't be smart. I'm trying to tell you something important.
Me: OK!
Mom: Being blind is bad enough, but he can't hear so good either.
Me: Why not?
Mom: He had his ears damaged in the war.
Me: The war? What war.
Mom: I'm not sure. could be frostbite from the cold war. But you know, being blind and deaf makes the wheel chair very hard to get around in.
Me: I'm sure. Is this all the bad news?
Mom: No, there's more.
Me: What?
Mom: He has The Cancer
Me: Really?
Mom: Yes.
Me: What kind?
Mom: The Cheek Cancer?
Me: I've never heard of that. How are they treating it? Radiation? Chemotherapy?
Mom: No. Its a new treatment. Salt water.
Me: What?
Mom: [loud] Salt Water!
Me: Ma. They don't treat cancer with salt water.
Mom: [loud] Well that's what Emilia said at the grocery store and she should know! She's known their house keeper for 35 years.
Me: Emilia? With the stutter?
Mom: [loud] Don't make fun of Emilia. She took you for cappuccino when you were 6.
Me: I know, I haven't grown since. So do you think that there's any chance she said "the canker" and not "the cancer"?
Mom: [loud] I don't know, I was getting provolone and all I know is he's on serious salt water treatment. Three times a day! Poor man.
Me: Okay, Okay, Okay. Fine. So is there anything else?
Mom: Well he's a big Blue Jays fan.
Me: Yeah?
Mom: Well, I know you like the baseball.
Me: Yeah?
Mom: Well I told Comare Lucia that you'd give him a call and cheer him up.
Me: Ma. You're kidding. Tell me your kidding. I don't even know this guy!
Mom: [loud] Yes you do! Don't talk like that! He's your comare's, cousin's, son's, wife's, father! You will curse us all if you don't call him.
Me: Ma, he's deaf! Frostbite from the cold war, remember.
Mom: Just talk loud.
Me: No way. This time I'm saying no.
Mom: Here's the number ....
Me: I'm hanging up ...
Mom: 416-39.....
Yep. That's kind of my family scene. Why I'm loud.
THE SPEECH
Rob: Weird week
Doug: I know!
Rob: The weather has been CRAZY!
Doug: I know.
Rob: So I've got some good news for you.
Doug: Good, I could use some.
Rob: I've decided to play a few games in the field this year.
Doug: This is good news?
Rob: I knew you'd agree.
Doug: No, that was a question.
Rob: What was?
Doug: Good lord. Here we go. So why are you playing some games in the field?
Rob: Well. You know how I'm probably the best pitcher in the league, but I just say I'm top 3 just to be nice to the other guys who aren't nearly as good as me?
Doug: Yes. I'm familiar with that.
Rob: Well I was thinking the other night while watching the Chris Jericho and Fandango dance off on Monday Night Raw, that if I'm THAT good a pitcher, I would likely be even THAT MUCH BETTER of a fielder.
Doug: Why's that?
Rob: Its obvious isn't it? There's only 15 pitchers in the league and there's 165 fielders. If there's that many fielders, it can't be too complicated.
Doug: You might be undervaluing fielding a little bit.
Rob: I doubt it. By the end of my first game in the field they won't be talking about Pendlebury, Cragg, Peters and Mason anymore. It'll be the Farah show.
Doug: Its already the Farah show, but its a comedy.
Rob: Yeah, I'm pretty funny.
Doug: I'll say. What's the speech today?
Rob: Oh, I'm going with a song by "The Chief".
Doug: Who's the chief?
Rob: Seriously, you don't know who the chief is? And you pretend to know music.
Doug: Enlighten me o' fielding wonder.
Rob: Bruce Springsteen?!?!?!?! The Chief?!!??!!? Duh.
Doug: The Boss?
Rob: Oh ya, The Boss. Chief, Boss, Manager, Leader. Whatever. You know who I meant.
Doug: Sure. And what 'Chief' song will it be?
Rob: I'm going with Born to Run!
Doug: Okay, giddy-up, can't wait to hear this one.
And Rob in his fielding splendor broke out in a raspy can't keep a tune in a paper bag rendition of the 'chief's' Born To Run. It sounded eerily like Bruce who can't really keep a tune either. Music can found HERE.
BORN To RUN
In the day we sweat it out in the shops of a runaway Tottenham dream
At night we play through bad hops of glory in suicide riddled fields
Sprung from batting cages out on highway 9,
Shiny gloved, fuel injected and steppin' out over the line
Buddy this town loves it when baseball's back
Its a death trap, it's a suicide bunt
We play because it makes us young
`cause Champs like us, baby we were born to run
Dougie play again, I wanna be your friend
I want to guard your dreams and visions
Just run your legs round those stupid bases
And watch you play 2nd base like a little engine
Together we could break this trap
Well run till we drop, buddy we'll never go back
Will you play tonight its not the same without the Dwyer
`cause buddy I'm just a scared and lonely pitcher
But I gotta find out how it feels
I want to know if we can win a game, guys I want to know if this team is real
Beyond the palace hemi-powered drones scream down the boulevard
The girls comb their hair in rearview mirrors
And the boys try to look so hard
The amusement park rises bold and stark
Kids are huddled on the bench in a mist
I wanna win with you Grisslies in Keogh park tonight
In an everlasting game
The highways jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive
Everybodys out on the run tonight but there's no place left to hide
Together Grisslies will live with the sadness
Ill deal with the all the madness if Piellush strikes out foul
We can't afford to go 0 and 3 and be mired in last place
Where we really want to go and well walk in the sun
But till then tramps like us buddy we were born to run
THE GAME
Well this game was kind of damned from the start. We only had 7 of our own guys and 3 subs. The only consolation was that the 3 subs were all ex-Grisslie stars. Jerry Muirhead, Dave Doucette and Dave Argue. Grisslie legends all.
However, we were 0-2 and didn't have much of a handle on the squad. Losing with subs wouldn't hurt. Its hard to be cohesive without your regulars. Winning with subs is no reflection of your team either. But lord, could we use a win!
At the end of the day it was another one for the loss column. We started well enough defensively until my error opened the flood gates for 4 Beer Bros. Runs. The captains going a collective 1 for 7 (with the 1 being a courtesy 7th inning walk) didn't help our cause!
As usual, the Beer Bros. continue to be one of my more favourite teams to lose to. I wouldn't mind breaking the habit though.
Next up for the Grisslies are the 3-1 Gruesome Devils. Yeah, it ain't getting any easier.
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