Mar 6, 2006 

The Smile Of Kirby Puckett

Kirby Puckett
Originally uploaded by wonderbread74.

The death of Kirby Puckett at age 44 was a shocker this afternoon. Whether the adjective used to describe him was rotund, portly or the more polite, barrel-chested, the fact was he was one the best combinations of a high-average power hitter with exquisite range in centerfield.

In fact, never in the history has a man looked so good performing in front of a huge trash bag as Puckett did for so many years in the Metrodome.

The loss of Puckett is a huge loss for arguably the Twin Cities greatest sports icon. The golden age of Twins baseball coincided with Puckett's rise to greatness as a precocious outfielder with a funny name to the most dominant and, more importantly, consistent players of the late 80s and 90s.

Being an A's fan during those times, the then seven-team American League West was either led by my A's or those pesky Twins.

You could definitely loathe Kent Hrbek, Gary Gaetti and Frank Viola, but Puckett made it hard for you to root against.

I could never imitate his upright stance and high leg kick. I didn't have the stomach muscles for that. I could imitate his smile, though. It wasn't fake, it wasn't even meant to convey happiness, it merely was the byproduct of a man truly in love with baseball.

In that manner, we're all like Kirby.


Autistic Hoop Player's Exploits Is Feel-Bad Story

The story of high schooler Jason McElwain has become the feel-good story of the year. Producers from several movie studios, including Disney, are angling for the thrilling story of the autistic team manager who sinks 20 points in four minutes.

I don't know about you, but this dude raining three's does nothing for me. Actually, I loathe him.

I've never scored 20, much less 10 in merely a pick-up game. 1.5 million Americans with autism might revel in McElwain's exploits, what about the rest of us? Were talking about over 260 million Americans right there. And then there's the world.

I'm sure other countries have their own McElwain's. There's probably some one-legged, one-eyed hockey player in Poland who scored a hat trick. What about ol' Clear Vander Sloot, the Dutch albino curler? Lumpy the headless equestrian? Joe Nomanos, the Dominican shortstop with two stumps for hands but range to die for? And don't forget the Jamaican bobsled team.

The point is, there's better, more inspiring stories all over the world.

Alright, you've got me. I just jealous of all the poon this McElwain guy is going to get. The problem is, he might get to homeplate by way of third and that, my friends, is called a travesty of the game. Look it up.

Mar 2, 2006 

'That's A Huge Bitch!'



Bonds Has Bigger Boobs Than Paula Abdul

Nice Rack: Bonds in Drag
Originally uploaded by wonderbread74.

It was a sad spectacle down in the desert Tuesday. Like a frail Bob Hope or a brittle George Burns, the comedy talents of Barry Bonds have, like his once-formidable power stroke, diminished to this--drag.

Barry, did you really need to stoop to this level for a laugh. Sure, Milton Berle milked the drag routine in his prime years, but he knew when to put the pumps on the shelf.

The Barry that I remembered cracked up reporters with a wry and taut comedy routine reminiscent of the greats like Jack Benny, Red Foxx and even Red Skelton.

Why couldn't Barry leave us with the memory of some of his great bits.

I especially like the ironic aspects of him running around the bases after hitting a homerun and pointing to the heavens. You know, as if God gave him those muscles and not a syringe.


And then there's the Jerry Lewis-type comedy that he was known for in the 1980s. You know, the skinny little centerfielder running around Three Rivers Stadium. Oh, just like Lewis, his comedy was so honest, unlike the angry Lewis and Bonds that we have today.

I guess, all things must come to an end. There will always be another comedic genius to replace this one. Terrell Owens seems like the logical heir, but who knows?

Also, here's a comedy tip for Barry: When your cleavage is equal to or greater than Aretha Franklin's either hire new writers or get a room for yourself.