Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Dallas Braden: Moral Guardian of the Grand Game

INT. CLUBHOUSE – DAY

A’s pitcher Dallas Braden sits in his locker, surrounded by reporters.

REPORTER

Can you tell us what happened out there, Dallas?

DALLAS
(spits tobacco on ground)

Look, Hoss. That’s my mound out there. Mine. Know what I’m sayin’? And I don’t care if you’re some big star or somethin’, that’s my mound, and you can’t be on there. There’s like a big ol’ No Trespassing sign on there. And ain’t nobody setting foot on my mound while I’m out there.

(dribbles tobacco down chin)

It’s an unwritten baseball rule, y’all.

(stares into camera)

And ain’t nobody breaking no rules while ol’ Dallas is in spittin’ distance.

Roll Opening Credits: Diamond Dallas Braden is THE PROTECTOR. Only on CBS.

CUT TO:

EXT. DODGER STADIUM – DAY

Clayton Kershaw stands on the mound. The scoreboard shows that he has allowed no hits to the Astros through 8 innings, and the Dodgers lead the Astros 2-0. Houston outfielder Michael Bourn stands at the plate to lead off the ninth. Kershaw stares in for the sign, then winds and delivers. Bourn whips his bat out in front of the plate and lays a beautiful surprise bunt down the third base line. He races for first as Dodgers third baseman Casey Blake charges the ball. Bourn gets a great jump out of the box and it looks like he’ll be safe by a mile. Blake then juggles the ball as he tries to pick it up. Bourn is just two steps from first when…

DALLAS

Aw HELLLL NOOOOOOOOO!

Dallas Braden leaps out of the crowd, charges onto the field and tackles Bourn before he can reach first base. He pins Bourn to the ground with his arm on throat. Bourn looks up at him in disbelief as Blake tosses to first for the out.

MICHAEL BOURN

What the fuck? What are you even doing here? You’re on the A’s.

DALLAS

Unwritten rule, homey. You don’t try to bunt to break up a no-hitter. Not on my fuckin’ watch.

MICHAEL BOURN

We’re only down two runs, asshole. I’m just trying to get on base.

DALLAS
(spits tobacco into Bourn’s mouth)

You shut your punk mouth, faggot. Ain’t you got your copy of Baseball’s Unwritten Rules (King James version)? Ain’t no buntin’ in a no-hitter.

Dallas pulls a walkie-talkie out of his back pocket.

DALLAS

Hey partner….Hey David. We got a live one here. We’re gonna have to send him to County lockup to cool his buntin’ heels.

INT. DOME – NIGHT

Carl Crawford leads off first base. The scoreboard shows that Tampa is beating Toronto 6-1 in the bottom of the 7th inning. The Blue Jays pitcher comes set and goes into his windup. Crawford breaks for second and steals the bag, easily beating the catcher’s throw. He stands on second base, dusting himself off when he feels something strange, then looks down to see a patch of blood seeping through his uniform pant leg. He crumples to the ground in pain, and looks helplessly at the umpires while Alex Gonzalez tags him out.

CUT TO:

CARL CRAWFORD

What…what happened?

Dallas Braden strolls onto the field, holding a Winchester rifle against his leg.

DALLAS

Aw hell no, bitch.

CARL CRAWFORD

Did you…did you just shoot me?

DALLAS

You’re fuckin’ right I shot you, little bitch. I fuckin’ sniped you in your little bitch leg, you bet your sweet Aunt Fanny.

CARL CRAWFORD
(bleeding;sobbing)

Why???

DALLAS

You done broke an unwritten rule of the game. Can’t be no stealin’ of bases when your team’s got a big lead. Ain’t right.

CARL CRAWFORD

It’s only a five-run lead! They could come back!

Dallas shoots Carl Crawford in the other leg.

DALLAS

That there’s what we Protectors call a preventative measure. Or a deterrent. Or some shit.

CUT TO:

EXT. STADIUM – DAY

Washington’s Ian Desmond stands at the plate in the midst of a Nationals-Phillies game. Roy Halladay is set to pitch and looks in for the sign, then goes into his windup. Desmond gets something caught in his contact lens and steps out of the batters box.

IAN DESMOND

Time, ump!

Dallas Braden strolls onto the field, walks up to Ian Desmond, and puts his arm around him.

DALLAS

How ya doin’ rook?

IAN DESMOND

Hey Dallas, what the heck are you doing here? Last time I saw you was in Chatanooga, Double A, right? How you been?

DALLAS

I been fine, rook. Just fine.

IAN DESMOND

That’s great to hear. Man, I sure am glad we’re in different leagues. I hate facing your two-seamer.

DALLAS

Right, right, right. I got a question to pose to you, rook. What in the Sam Hell do you think you’re doing?

IAN DESMOND

Huh?

DALLAS

Steppin’ out of the hitters box like that. What in the Sam Hell was that all about? You got your panties up in a ruffle, boy? Need to get out of there in a hurry or somethin’?

IAN DESMOND

What? No, I just had something in my eye. Where did you even come from? Aren’t the A’s playing in Detroit right now?

DALLAS
(whispering into Ian Desmond’s ear)

Shh, shh, shh. You hush your mouth now, pretty boy. Ain’t you seen that Roy up there had already done gone into his pitching motion? Ain’t you heard the unwritten rule that you can’t be steppin’ out of the hitters box once the pitcher’s done gone into his motion?

IAN DESMOND

Yeah, but I couldn’t see anything…I asked for time…

DALLAS

AW HELLL NOOOOO. I told you to hush up. Now here’s what I’mma do. Since this is your first offense, I’mma give you like a warning. But if you ever, EVER break one of the unwritten rules again, I’mma come into your parents’ house in the middle o’ the night. And I’mma creep up them stairs while they’re snoozing away, all peaceful-like. Then, I’mma stab your Daddy in the gut with my Bowie knife. And while he feels the last traces of life slipping away from him, I’mma make him watch as I get all romantic-like with your Momma. I’mma do it with her all sweet and gentle like while your Daddy bleeds out all over the bed.

Dallas looks directly at the camera again.

DALLAS

‘Cause I’m Diamond Dallas Braden – The Protector!

FADE OUT.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Can I Vote For Him Twice in 2012?

“What people tend to forget,” President Obama said. “Especially after watching their teams lose, is that being a Yankee is as much about character as it is about performance; as much about who you are as what you do. Being successful in New York doesn’t come easy, and it’s not for everybody. It takes a certain kind of player to thrive in the pressure cooker of Yankee Stadium -– somebody who is poised and professional, and knows what it takes to wear the pinstripes. It takes somebody who appreciates how lucky he is, and who feels a responsibility for those who are less fortunate.”

Monday, April 5, 2010

Opening Day Book Recommendation

We need something to wash the taste of last night's game out of out mouths, don't we? And something to distract us from the fact that Neil Diamond is now dead to us? (Sidenote to Bostonians: You're not all living inside the movie "Beautiful Girls.")



Well go check out the spiffy new site of Psycho Fan favorite Emma Span. And while you're at it...buy her new book.

The New Public Enemy No. 1

Get out your darts, kids. Here's one for your bullseye:


Brian Cashman shouldn't have signed Chan Ho Park. But Joe Girardi certainly shouldn't be relying on him late in a two-run game at Fenway Park.

Last night was a Joe Torre special, a bullpen mismanagement worthy of Girardi's predecessor. Park has a WHIP of 1.40 and an EqERA of 4.61 last year...in the National League. His career stats aren't any better. What about that screams "Can succeed in the A.L. East"?

Guys fail. Guys blow games. It happens. But it enrages me when managers don't give their team the best possible chance to win a game -- it's really not that difficult. There was no reason for Girardi to pull David Robertson after two batters (shades of the ALCS).

And just like that...the Era of Good Feeling is over.