Thursday, October 20, 2011
Classic card of the week
Joe Girardi, 1994 Upper Deck
Hey, I have an idea. Get up.
Seriously. Get. Up. You’re embarrassing yourself, writhing away in the dirt like that. It’s your own fault. You thought you could run through the brick wall that it Joe mo’ freakin’ Girardi? Pfft. Hold on, let me flick this bug off my shoulder. There. That was more difficult for me than blocking the plate from you.
How did you even get over there? I honestly don’t remember. I think I fell asleep there for a second. I remember yawning when I saw you rounding third with a full head—your head is huge, by the way—of steam, but I don’t really remember much after that. Was there contact? My uniform looks like it just came out of the wash. Man, I am bored.
Did somebody shoot you from the stands and I didn’t see it? If so, apply pressure to the wound. If not,
Do you see a white light? Move away from the light, man. That would cause a massive delay here, and I got a family to get home to. Speaking of families, you are embarrassing yours right now. And mine. And America. So please,
No? Okay. Might as well tell you a little bit about myself. Grew up in Peoria, Illinois. Ever hear of it? Thought so. Played sports, obviously, excelled at them all, obviously. Just for poops and giggles—I don’t curse, that’s another thing about me … it’s so, predictable—went to Northwestern and got a degree in industrial engineering. I could pretty much design a skyscraper that’s also a rocket ship if I wanted to, but I prefer to teach harsh life lessons to pretty boys like you. What did you major in, not going to college? Prolly. Oh, and by the way, I was the first freshman ever to be elected president of my fraternity, Alpha Tau Omega, which is Latin for ... something. Sorry, don't speak Latin. Too busy being an industrial engineer who is awesome at baseball. Anyway, yeah, a freshman president. My hazing was that the seniors had to bow down before me and wash my baseball spikes with their saliva. It was tough, but I came out a better man, if that’s even possible. It’s not possible. I came out the same. Also, I was forged from steel.
We’re friends now, right? Cool. Between you and I, I’m sick of this Colorado biz. My game-calling skills are unmatched, but infield flies here are three-run ding-dongs, ya’ know? I can’t do anything about that. I used my industrial engineering expertise to construct and then recommend to the front office a humidor for the baseballs, but no one was feeling me. I patented the idea anyway, just in case. Anyway, think I’m gonna head somewhere else, win a bunch of titles. What about you? Gonna lay there? Cool. Let me know how that works out.
Definitely gonna manage eventually. When I do, tell the world how I inspired you on this day. It’ll make for a great story, a precursor of sorts. Media loves that sort of thing. Oh, hey, I almost forgot—you’re out. Figured that went without saying, but you seem a little dazed, so thought I’d let you know. Here comes the trainer. Do me a favor and dust off the plate before they put you on the stretcher. It was nice talking to you.
Did you know?
Joe Girardi was surprisingly unable to tell Alex Rodriguez to "get down," in the batting order, of the 2011 playoffs.