Friday, December 22

'Twas the Night

It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE HOT STOVE.

'Twas the night before Christmas, I was hanging with Manny,
And all he kept doing was rubbing his hammy;
“I got to get traded this year,” he complained.
“Cause otherwise, I will not play through the pain.”

“They say that I’m lazy, that I just don’t care,
That I’m more concerned ‘bout the length of my hair,
But on Christmas, when I’m all at home in my bed,
I just dream about hitting and swinging the head,

Of the bat, knock a homer, give a tip of my cap,
And then into the field, where I’ll catch a quick nap.
When down in the lobby there was such a noise,
I thought Enrique Wilson had arrived with his boys.

And Manny jumped up and headed downstairs,
Though he felt like crap, it’s not like he cares
When Enrique’s in town, and he wants to hang out,
It don’t matter if Manny’s got shingles or gout.

But it wasn’t Enrique on down at the bar,
But a jolly old fat guy with a sweet, tricked out car,
With rims that did spin and dice in the mirror,
A present for Manny, it seemed rather clear.

“Yo Manny,” he shouted with gusto and verve,
“You dig on this ride? Do you think you deserve
It for Christmas, or should I be giving you coal,
Cause you sat, left the four spot a horrible hole.

Use Nixon, Use Lowell, Use Pena, Use Tek?
Or, Youkilis! Or Kapler or some other drek?
Did you quit on your team, when you could have played ball?
Or was that knee gimpy in fact after all?"

And Manny he stood there and wrinkled his nose,
At the site of the fat man in comical clothes,
And he thought bout his knee, how it hurt when he ran,
So he spoke to St. Nick, and said “Whatever, man.”

Then he looked at the ceiling, then looked at his shoes
Then he sat down, and ordered a glass with some booze.
And then, said to St. Nick, “Hey, man what do you think?”
While awaiting, an answer he bought him a drink

Well, Manny,” the elf said while lifting his glass,
“My thought is that this year I’ll give you a pass.
You hit the ball well, and you helped out your team,
And they need you back next year it certainly seems.

So you wear your pants long, so they cover your feet,
So you slide for a ball, but then you catch a cleat,
In the turf and then tumble and fumble the ball,
Before leaving the field to go pee in the wall.

So what if you sit out just once in a while?
Cause watching you play, well it makes me smile
Your swing is so perfect, the best that I’ve seen,
Who cares if your intellect isn’t so keen.

You play like a kid with a smile and a wave,
Like a kid who simply cannot always behave;
But the team needs you now, despite all of that stuff,
They can’t just replace you with, say, Aubrey Huff.

As long as it’s Papi and you back to back,
I think that the Sox every year have a crack
At taking the series and winning it all,
At getting some back up, the World Series ball.

So this car is for you, it’s a nice Christmas ride.
You like Caddies right? So drive this one with pride.”
Then he stood, and gave Manny the keys to the car,
And then walked to the door at the end of the bar,

And he handed a number, to the waiting valet
Who brought over the reindeer, and Santa Claus sleigh
But I heard him exclaim, “Yeah it’s kind of uncanny,
But you can’t do much better than Manny being Manny.”

2. While there has been plenty of focus on DJ Dru’s disposition, his constitution and his shoulder, there has been precious little examination of his prowess as a spinner of discs. The man is a DJ for crying out loud and has there been a single article, a blurb even about what kind of music he plays? We all knew that Balki Arroyo played the guitar and that Johnny Damon can bang a tambourine (note: though probably only on the one and the three like a square). Hell, we even know that Lenny DiNardo has the most interesting and eclectic musical tastes on the 40 man roster. But still we know nothing about the DJ to whom the team is prepared to make a five year commitment.

So Jose did a little bit of reporting and learned that Dru is into mashups. You know what a mashup is right? It’s not what Mike Greenwell would do to Ellis Burks in the outfield, rather it’s when a DJ takes two different songs and mixes them together to create a hip new sound. For instance “Spanish Bombs Over Bagdad” is a mashup of Bombs Over Baghdad by Outkast and, presumably, “Spanish Flea” by Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass.

So what are the favorite mashups of DJ Dru?

  • A mashup of “Hurt” by Nine Inch Nails and “Sunshine on My Shoulder” by John Denver called “Hurt My Shoulder”
  • A mashup of “Hustle” by Van McCoy and the Soul City Symphony and “I Just Don’t Know What to Do With Myself” by the White Stripes called “I Just Don’t Hustle”
  • A mashup of “Hold on, Hold Out by Jackson Browne and “Secret Agent Man by Johnny Rivers called “Agent: Hold Out”

The only question is which one will become his theme music.

3. According to the Boston Herald, public health groups have targeted a number of stores for selling drinking games, arguing that they encourage recklessness and are, in effect, a threat to public health.

See, it’s happened. neopuritanism has finally crossed the line. First, they ban smoking. Jose is okay with this. Smoking is not only bad for you but bad for everyone around you and is really only worth doing if it causes one to choke in front of one’s gorgeous Albanian interpreter who finds one’s inability to smoke properly charming. Then came the New York City ban on trans fats (note: presumably guaranteeing that David Wells will never pitch there again). And now, they’re going after drinking games. What scourge of public health will they focus on next?

Here’s what Jose’s afraid of. The next target will be baseball. It fits the profile. Do people derive pleasure from it? Yes. Does it cause people to spend money that could better be spent on shoes for their children? Check. Does it cause high blood pressure, heart attacks and stroke? Of course. You remember both Rudy Seanez eras. Does it destroy families? It goes without saying.

So what, oh what, will keep the neopuritans from trying to ban baseball next? Remember if beer pong is a crime only criminal will play beer pong.

I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO THE HOT STOVE.

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