So, did you miss me? I may have missed last weekâ€™s column and been late with this one, but rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. Those rumours are perfectly understandable though, if anyone discovered that last week your fearless correspondent had ventured to the wilds of Hull. You should have seen what I encountered. Oh, the shaved heads! Oh, the tattoos! Oh, the language! Oh, the fights! And that was just the women. Boom-tish.
Ah, not really, Hull was perfectly fine, but your correspondent, after one too many shandies, was not.
However, Iâ€™m sure none of you are interested in a rambling booze-addled travelogue, and are rather eager to satisfy your thirst for the absurd and the weird and the wonderful in that great old sport of baseball. Well, drink upon these stories, dear reader (or not as the case may be)â€¦
Our beloved leader, Matt Smith, knows that as a Mets fan I am something of a connoisseur of the delightful behaviour of those lovely fans of the Philadelphia Phillies. So, Matt was kind enough to forward on to me the story of a Phillies fan ending an altercation with a man and his daughters, aged just 15 and 11, by vomiting on them. What an incredibly classy, classy guy. I guess it is a reasonably foolproof way of bringing an argument to end though. Hopefully he was feeling suitably nauseous this week as the Mets shut out the Phillies for 27 innings straight. Of course, Mets success never lasts that long with two losses since (to date), and Phillies failure never lasts that long either, what with the small matter of that perfect game, and pretty soon another Phillies fan will be vomiting on another family.
Wildlife corner folks! How about that squirrel that brought a halt to the Yankees/Twins game this past week? How cute was that? The squirrel went after Twins third baseman Brendan Harris, before seeking shelter from the rain that would eventually halt the game again. As Matt again pointed out, at least the squirrel wasnâ€™t in Philadelphia, or a policeman would have tasered it!
I love writing for this site. The head honcho supplies stories and writes my gags for me! Brilliant! Or is it a sign that he thinks this column needs some work? Weâ€™ll gloss over that, eh? But anyway, thanks Matt, really appreciate it. And if any of you out there spot any funny stories or think of great gags, you let me know. Letâ€™s make this a joint effort, and then your intrepid correspondent will have more time for ill-advised trips to the north!
Fashion corner time! And the sartorial elegance award has to go this week to the San Diego Padres, who went all retro on us with their uniforms this week, for â€˜Throwback Thursdayâ€™. Looking good guys. For a sport so in touch with its history, and so in thrall to merchandise, youâ€™d think (and maybe hope) that MLB roll this out further. We could have the 1970s Astros play the 1940s Cardinals, or the 1920s Yankees against the 1980s Angels. Time-travel baseball â€“ letâ€™s make it happen! It would surely appeal to baseball geek and baseball hipster alike. Itâ€™s fun. Plus, it has the potential to make multi-millionaire sportsmen look silly. What is there not to like about this idea? Nothing, nothing, I tell you.
And finally, a word of advice. Should any of you hit a walk-off grand slam this week, please, please be careful. You donâ€™t want to end up like poor Kendry Morales, who broke his leg celebrating following his trip around the bases. He leapt up at home plate, and came down just a little bit funny and SNAP. Ouch. That has to be the worst sporting celebration injury since Arsenalâ€™s Steve Morrowâ€™s broken arm following the 1993 League Cup Final. So, please, take care, and Iâ€™ll see you all next week, further trips to Hull permittingâ€¦