Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Because, You Know, We Need Some Levity Here

When I came to work today, I was blue.  No, not literally.  I was tired, I blew off my workout period (which I later regretted), my right calf ached where I was hit by a batted ball last night (Sure sign you should stop pitching to your team in 3-pitch softball?  You start getting hit every game, because you're too slow to get your glove down and/or get your legs out of the way gracefully).

Then I came to work, found my way to Deadspin, and discovered the Fire Joe Morgan team was posting.  Oh Happy Day.

Amongst the usual excellent satire (which included a Joe Morgan piece, appropriately enough) was a story on a subject that drew me to their site in the first place:  David Eckstein and his grittiness.

It is worth the read.  But in case you don't have the time today/tonight to read the full article, I carefully chose this paragraph for your perusal, mostly because I don't want to lose it to history.

No room in the game for David Eckstein? "I hope that's not the case," Black said recently. "He's a baseball player with talent. One thing I think gets overlooked: he can play.


You know who's overlooked? Adrian Fucking Gonzalez. Nobody in the world outside of Adrian Gonzalez's immediate family has any idea he even exists, much less that he is one of the very best hitters in the world. A reporter recently asked Yorvit Torrealba to talk about how good Adrian Gonzalez has been for the Pads this year, and Torrealba said, "There is no one on our team by that name. You are mistaken. Perhaps you mean to ask about David Eckstein?" Then he directed the reporter over to a velvet-roped-off area down the left field line where David Eckstein was standing on a giant lazy susan, like a 20-foot Bowrider at a boat show, rotating slowly as thousands of screaming journalists took his picture so they could say they once got the chance to see the great David Eckstein in person. And while this was happening, Adrian Gonzalez, who has a .922 OPS hitting in fucking Petco every night, was outside gnawing on discarded chicken wings in a dumpster because he doesn't even get paid for playing baseball, because nobody knows who he is. That's a true story, people.

Man I miss Fire Joe Morgan.

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