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2009 Season |
Edition No. 21 |
September 28, 2009 |
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2 riders less than day away, closest looks to be a pale face, I’m talking PALE FACE, like 3rd shift in the flour factory pale, another rider not far behind him, can’t see him, but can hear him, sounds like skinny Billy Mays guy that rode through here 2 moons ago selling something called oxi-clean. Memo to self: Move camp, move camp fast!
Chief Wainwright Chief Krause Chief Washburn Chief of Control
Chief Krause decides to call a war council to plan strategy for the last days of the Great Campaign. Chief Loudon Wainwright III of the Missouri Cardinals tribe proclaims that the “Wahoos are a dead skunk in the middle of the road, stinkin’ to high heaven." Chief Washburn of the Michigan Tigers tribe reveals that he has a “wounded knee” and would be unable to continue the fight. After a few minutes of awkward silence the council breaks out in laughter at the obvious breech of social decorum. A little levity was needed after such a long an arduous season. Unfortunately, the South Dakota contingent didn’t appreciate the humor and stormed off. Chief of Control then proposed that the rest of the summit be held under the Cone of Silence.
Even though the season still has a week left, the Chiefs and Cubs come to an agreement:
Chiefs will receive 1 wagon load of bibles, 1 wagon load of whiskey and 1 Bow Flex with Ab attachments, “as seen on TV.”
Cubs will receive a 2 night stay for 2 at a teepee and breakfast in Whiteclay and a $50 gift certificate at Appleebee’s.
I am in awe. Eye-popping, jaw-dropping, Mary-Joseph-what-just-happened, can’t-believe-my-eyes, awe! Chuck, whatever you’re selling, I’m buying. Day after day, week after week, month after month, you paraded a freak show out to the mound that the Wallendas wouldn’t have the balls to pull the trigger on. Did you even draft a pitcher on Draft Day? I don’t like to complain about my team, it’s boring and senseless, so I’ll just say this. For the month of September my pitching staff would have a losing record in Williamsport and that includes the 13 and younger team from the Ukraine and the kids from the Air Force base in Germany. Nuff said.
This was finally the year I was going to be a player in this thing. I was looking forward to trading punches and making a run at the title. Instead, I spent the better part of the last 2 months picking myself up from the canvas from the haymakers thrown from the likes of Felip Paulino, Kyle Davies, Sean West, Charlie Haeger, Brandon Morrow, Bud Norris, Freddy Garcia, Pat Misch, and Nelson Figueroa to name a few. You know my feelings on luck, and brother, that’s not luck, no way was that luck. Luck is guessing right 3 out of 10 times, 8 out of 10 borders on Devine Intervention. I can’t believe you were able to separate yourself from the natural emotions of thinking about keeping one of them after they spun a 30-point gem. You didn’t keep them because you knew they wouldn’t do it again, at least not until they cleared waivers and you could pick them up again. Instead, you not only cut them loose, you hooked them in mid-pitch, they were gone before they were done pitching and it was on to the next Chris Jakubauskas. Well, this Bud’s for you, buddy, you deserve it. One of the best jobs of managing a team we’ve ever witnessed.
I’m tired. This hasn’t been a good year. The other day at work I was talking with a co-worker and I must have been complaining about some ache or pain and he remarked that I should expect those little ailments when you’re in your 60’s. I’m really tired. That same week we were over visiting our son and his family and my daughter-in-law told me that her and Iris, my 4 year old Granddaughter, were watching TV and Iris said “look, look, that guy looks just like Coot”. Iris was my first Grandchild here in town and we had to set some ground rules right off the bat. I told them no Grandpa, Papa, Pahpa, G-pa, Granddaddy, G-Diddy or any combination of the such. So my Daughter In-law threw Old Coot out there and I agreed, as with all kids it got shortened to just Coot. Anyhooo, I asked her if it was Brad Pitt or Johnny Depp that she saw. Nope……..Larry David. She’s only 4! I haven’t even had time to teach her how to lie yet. As Lili Von Shtupp so eloquently put it “let’s face it, I’m tired”.
For the first time in 25 years I’m ready for the season to be over and I’m not looking forward to next year. Maybe it was Chuck kicking my ass this last month or Johnny creeping up behind me yelling “HOW’D YOU LIKE THAT 200 POINT NIGHT” in my ear, which I have to admit scared the hell out me or maybe it was Jeff pacing himself to outkick me in the end of this endless marathon. Anyway it’s almost over and it’s been one hell of a race, more so than any other year I can remember. Good luck to all and I hope to see you at the winter celebration. I can’t wait to wear some cool Chiefs, Wahoos or Cubs gear.
I don’t see it?
Larry Underbelly
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