Everytime I look at Gregg Zaun, all I can think is that the poor guy’s a man out of time, far better suited — stylistically at least — to the 1970s. With that windswept, Wolverine ‘do and sideburns, can’t you just see him hitting alongside the likes of UL Washington, Jim Bibby, Boog Powell and Dennis Lamp? Or at least playing bass in The Electric Light Orchestra? I sure can.
Is it just me, or is David Wells a little less effective when the billboards behind home plate at SkyDome are displaying fast food ads? I swear he was cruising right along until that friggin’ “Mr. Sub” banner came up, then he started giving up the bases on balls. When that “Pizza Pizza” one flipped up shortly thereafter, I figured the game was lost, and was just counting the seconds till he served a gopher ball. Thankfully, a Royal Bank of Canada ad slid up next, and all was well again.
For sheer balls-against-the-cheese-grater annoyance, I never thought anything could beat those Foxwoods commericals shown during Sox games on NESN. Then I met Marty, the singing USRV man. We need a version of this ad where someone sneaks up from behind, spooks the horse, then clubs Marty with a pair of stocking filled with pudding.
Wouldn’t you just love to slap him? Sadly, my concern over Kapler’s busted tendon prevented me from putting my foot through the TV screen whenever Hillenbrand came to the plate. It was a sad way for The Hebrew Hammer’s season to end, especially considering his emancipation from the Japanese league, and I wish him a speedy recovery. Man, could we use a shot of Jay Payton right about now.
Lastly, this Halloween, I’m going out as Superman. Perhaps you’ve seen the costume:
Back home tonight for a big series against Oakland. Time for everyone to follow Papi’s lead, and sound off like they’ve got a pair. Are you listening, Edgah?
