Master of Internet Ceremonies, Mr. Moncayo, was kind enough to save me the trouble of titling my first blog post. technically i would be considered a 'primo uomo', the male soprano of the opera, a detestible, egotistical and unreasonable member of the hallowed RHMRBL family, but lets not split hairs here...
not sure how i got the handle of primadonna. its a mystery. maybe it was that time i demanded a private limo to playoff games. maybe it was the personal masseuse. the premium beer. the imported iced tea. the nasty attitude toward autograph hounds. run-ins with the coach (that berridge and his bloody equality, his jedi mind-tricks). my refusal to use capitol letters.
its a mystery.
anyway im gonna try my best to bring a special blend of irreverence and insight with these rants. ive never blogged before, but supposedly all the cool kids are doin' it so what the hell. if you feel my blog stinks, please let me know. just remember, as a primo uomo, i wont listen to your suggestions and will continue to write whatever i damn well feel like :-)
so another season will soon be underway, another summer of laughs and gaffs and yankee dominance. ya, im saying it right now; the evil empire looks poised to take another championship, casting a dark, wet cloud of doom above any field they set their devilish hoves on. even without jeter and a-rod and steinbrenner-power, this mini-dynasty of richmond green must be stopped. so please, lets all band together, use our collective mojo and wish the damn yankees a disasterous 2008 season. here here!
speaking of being overpowered, id like to comment on the bats that have begun to creep into every dugout in the league. titanium-alloy, liquid-cooled, plasma-injected barrels that weigh 4 ounces are not bats; they are weapons. cannons. nuclear bloody missles. and you know where theyre pointed? at me, the tall guy standing 60 feet, 6 inches away. so in the name of truth and justice, i spent the cold winter months developing an exoskeletal brace for my right arm. its hydrolic actuators should bring the ole' heater into the 100-110mph range and turn me into a terrifying cyborg. yesyes, i realize this means that if one happens to make contact ill have a hole in my chest, but ill take my chances. any pitchers who want one, let me know, and we can fight the good fight together.
seriously though, i love this damn league and the man-children that play in it, the heroes, villians, rookies, 'umps. its a fantastic testament to the power of sport when a diverse group of characters converge to display their affection for sticks and balls :-)
but for now i must bid you farewell, as it seems my dirty greygoose martini with a twist of lemon rind is getting warm and the private RHMRBL jet should be landing any minuet now. cant wait to get back on the field and fight for that playoff spot! wait...everyone makes the playoffs...so what the hell are we fighting for??!!
alas, theres always the playoff limo and no, i wont share it.
its not in the contract :-)
much love to all you bastards,
JL
Posted
Feb 25 2008, 11:14 AM
by
jordan