Tagged: SLY

Go Ahead and Jump… Onto The Band Wagon

Look around the Bay Area, Gigantes gear is everywhere.  It was inevitable.  

 

A team wins a championship and becomes the toast of the region. 

We did not think we were immune to the effects of a glorious championship run did we?

 


Band Wagoner:

 

A sports fan that’s loyalty is contingent upon a team’s success. These fans are rarely respected in the sport fanatic community because they reap the rewards of victory, without a willingness or fortitude to face the hardships of defeat.

 

Thanks Urban Dictionary, and I thought you were only good for sex act definitions such as “Blumpkin Backfire”.

 

(I know you are going to look it up, be sure to NOT use Google images)

 

Over the past few months I have engaged in a number of conversations with other Gigantes fans about band wagon fans. The conversations usually ended with the “real” fan bashing the late arrivals to the party.

 

I had one question for every “real fan” that bashed a band wagon fan:

 

What is the harm of a band wagon fan?

 

The answers I was given were not adequate.

 

I consulted with KJ (as we were in the same mindset on the subject) on the negatives of band wagon fans. 

 

We could only come up with two true negatives.  That’s impressive because we were both Mensa candidates.

 

1.  Ticket Prices

 

I learned about supply and demand at Napa Valley College’s Micro Economics course. Gosh darn Stubhub.  Check out the prices on the secondary ticket market.  They are ridiculous. 

 

Home Opening day (4/8) tickets on Stubhub are starting at $130.  The $130 tickets are Section 333, Row 16.  It would cost a family of four over $500 just to get into the ballpark.

 

Ticket Scalper’s (brick and mortar Stubhub) will also be raising the price of their cream this season.  I used to tell my-go-to-scalper to bring the cream (best available) to 21st Amendment before the game.  I have a feeling the cream will be out of my price range this season. 

 

2.  Bad Conversations

 

One of my favorite pastimes is talking baseball.  I grew up around knowledgeable baseball minds and expect a certain level of baseball common sense in my baseball conversations.

 

Band wagon fans can be a disaster to have a baseball conversation with.  It makes me feel very uncomfortable, which is usually what I do best to others.

 

The conversation usually ends with awkward silence when I bring up a new way to quantify a defenders true value. 

 

(Yes, these are the things that keep me up at night.)

 

High ticket prices on the secondary market and bad baseball conversations.  One hurts the wallet and one is mildly annoying.  These are also easy to avoid, buy your tickets directly from Los Gigantes and do not attempt to engage in a conversation with band wagon fans.

 

(Band wagon fans are easy to spot, 78% of them wear strap-back hats)

 

There are obvious positives that band wagon fans bring to the table: a full Pac Bell/SBC/AT&T Park, excitement, and a sense of camaraderie.  The number #1 positive of a band wagon fan often goes over looked.

 

1. Band Wagon Fans Breed New Fans.

 

A band wagon fan has the ability to spread their fandom to others. 

 

My brother in law, admittedly, is not a big baseball fan but got into Los Gigantes championship run.  He grew a playoff beard, looked up “The Machine”, and used the word “delicious” as often as possible. 

 

(Wait, I think he just had a man crush on B-Weezy.)

 

Will his interest in baseball/man crush of B-Weezy subside? Undoubtedly yes, but his excitement carried over to his oldest son, who is now a huge Gigantes fan. I bought him a Big Time Timmy Jim World Series Jersey for Christmas.  My Sister told me he wore the jersey for three straight weeks.  The jersey had to be torn off him to be washed.

 

Los Gigantes World Series run along with his Father’s excitement was the key to make my nephew a fan.  He watched more baseball in one month than he had previously watched in his lifetime.  How awesome is that?

 

New fan creation is well worth the high ticket prices and bad baseball conversations that result from fans hopping on the band wagon.

 

It doesn’t matter when you board the train, or even purchase a ticket; all that matters is that you arrive at the destination.  The World Series was the destination and we all arrived together.


 

There is plenty of room for the 2011 season.

 

All Aboard.

 

The Three Bs Vs. Pliny The Younger

Hey All- Please Check out the new Site: http://www.The-Three-Bs.com

The Three Bs Vs. Pliny The Younger
SLY

2/18/11

One third of The Three Bs is dedicated to Beer, Booze, Brew, and any other word associated with Alcohol which starts with the letter B. 

 

With that, I give you The Three Bs versus Pliny The Younger.

 

I will remember 2010 for many reasons; the birth of my nephew, Los Gigantes World Series title, the purchase of my first home, the launch of www-The-Three-Bs.com, and my first sip of Pliny The Younger.

 

Last February my friend Dante Hicks (I know what you’re thinking; he is not the character from “Clerks”.) alerted me that he was going to Santa Rosa to visit Russian River Brewery for the release of Pliny The Younger.  I will admit that was the first time I heard of Pliny The Younger.  This is embarrassing because Santa Rosa is my hometown and I have patronized Russian River Brewery on many occasions. 



Not this Dante Hicks, The Real Dante Hicks.

 

Dante turned me on to www.beeradvocate.com, there it was evident why Pliny The Younger was such a big deal, it was the 2nd rated beer in the world. 

 

How could I miss this opportunity so close to home?

 

Dante got to the Brewery at opening (11:00am) and was greeted with a line of a couple hundred people long.  I showed up around 11:30am and we proceeded to wait about 2 hours before we entered.

 

I did not feel bad about the wait as many people made a pilgrimage to taste the Younger.  There was a guy in line with us who flew in from Sweden . 

 

The stuff had to be legit.

 

The Younger came in at 11% abv in 2010 and went down like a champ.  Beer this high in alcohol content should not go down the gullet so blissfully.

 

Dante and I stayed for about 4 hours.  We took our time, filled a growler and drove home riding the bumps with one eye closed.

 

I shared the growler with Pops and KJ.  They both vowed to stand in line in 2011.

 

I went back to Russian River Brewery with my brother in law the following day.  Pliny the Younger was dry for the year.  I found out it lasted for only 8 beautiful hours.

 

Russian River Brewery made a few changes for their Pliny The Younger release in 2011; it was set for a two week release from 2/4-2/17.  The new rules were as follows: a limited number of kegs will be released each day to ensure the Younger last for two weeks, 10.5oz pours, and no growlers.  You can only drink what you can put in your belly.

 

The last part sounds like a challenge.

 

Round 1: Friday 2/11/11.

 

RT, LJ, and I stayed at my Pop’s place on Thursday night.  Pops could not partake in the festivities as he had to work.  Pops is much more responsible as RT and I blew off work.

 

We arrived at the brewery at 9:30am; I was surprised there was nobody in line. 

 

The situation gave me an eerie reminder of a situation in college.

           

In college I purchased 6 tickets for a concert two months in advance at San Jose State . The concert was scheduled for October 30th2006.  My friends and I all went out to the bars before stumbling over to the San Jose State Event Center for the show.  We arrived fashionably and drunkenly late when the 2nd act was suppose to go on.  We encountered one problem.  We were all alone on campus.

 

RT: “What the eff Shaun?”

 

SLY: “Duuude, the tickets say October 30th.”

 

RT: “Tickets don’t talk.”

 

SLY: “Well, there is not a show here, back to the bars.”

 

I found out at the bar the concert was cancelled over a month before.  I purchased the next few rounds. 

 

My blunder ruined any game I had with chics on this night as my friends were all too quick to bring up the situation to any female I encountered.

 

I was confident that Pliny The Younger was not canceled on this day, we headed to Starbucks for coffee.  The thought of Younger completely made me forget a few of my job responsibilities. 

 

SLY: “Shhhhhhhhit, I have to approve timecards before noon.”

 

LJ: “How are you going do that here?”

 

SLY: “There has to be someone with a computer around here somewhere.”

 

I found a FedEx Office store which had a pay to use internet service.  Awesome, it only cost $.25 per minute.  I should be done in less than $2.

 

I learned a lesson about capitalism.

 

The computer must have been on dial-up.  It could not even load my website to approve the timecards.  I waited until the $5 point. 

 

SLY: “That’s it, I am done.  I could have spent this $5 on a 10.5 ounces of Pliny The Younger and still had $.50 left over.”

 

I felt betrayed by our capitalistic economic model, but it actually gave me a great business idea for the skid rows of America .

 

Business idea: Pay-to-watch free porn on www.pornhub.com

 

Here me out. 

 

The customers who would frequent this abomination of an establishment would;

 

A. Be in the lowest rung of social class.

B. Not be aware that cable internet exists.

C. Not be able to justify a cover charge at a gentlemen’s club.

D. Spend all their money on booze and debauchery.

E. Not qualify for a ATM card.

F. Have never heard of www.pornhub.com, therefore believing the site is a gift from God.

 


Wheelhouse Demographic


Give me a cheap 1000sq foot empty space, 10 private stalls, 10 computers with their homepages all set on pornhub, and let the fine gentlemen have at it.

 

Nothing better than DSL will be used, I want a 5 minute video to load in 10 minutes and payments to be collected before they start (Learned from the Bunnyranch).

 

The price per minute will be reasonably set at $2 per minute.  I expect most customers to not allow their video to fully load before they blow theirs.  The revenue goal per customer will be $10.

 


That’s it, I am going to hell.

 

Alright, let’s get back to the beer.

 

After I surrendered $5 to FedEx Office we headed back into line at Russian River Brewery at 10:00am. 

 

We were now second in line. 

 

By the time the doors opened at 11:00am the line was stretched out to about 100 thirsty souls.

 

We sat down and I asked the bartender if my favorite beer was available.

 

SLY:  “Do you have the Silver Bullet on draft?”

 

Server: “Um, No.”

 

I could not tell if he thought I was serious.  Well played sir.

 

SLY: “Oh, ok, we will have three of those Pliny The Youngers.”

 


First Round of 2011 


The Pliny’s looked and smelled amazing.  They were just as I remembered from the past year, almost perfection.  The abv this year was a tad down this year from 11% to 10.25%.


The first one went down all to fast…and so did the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th.

 

At last count, RT had 5 while LJ and I had 6.



 

RT and I recognized two friends; well we thought we recognized the two people.  We debated whether they were indeed our friends.

 

Yes, we were now very intoxicated.  

 

I walked over to the table that may or may not be our friends.  I was as confident as Barry Zito laying down a sac bunt attempt (I had to throw in a baseball reference), which is to say (for you non-stitch heads) very confident (Zete’s led the team in sac bunts in 2010).

 



Is it bad when all my good Barry Zito references have nothing to do with pitching? 

 

The two people were indeed our friends, RT and I shared a few pleasantries before heading back to our table.

 

Holly Ravioli Batman.

 

Pliny The Younger officially hit LJ.  Her head was on the table.  She was out. 

 

It was time to leave.

 

RT and I wanted to kill a little time to sober up before we headed back to Pop’s house.  I choose “Sweet Spot”, a bar right down the street. 


 


I ordered a Guinness to sober up.  I am part Irish, it is allowed.

 

RT and LJ each ordered a beer against their better judgment. 

 

RT took a few sips and headed to the bathroom.  LJ took a sip or two between her naps at the bar.

 

Bartender: “She can’t sleep at the bar.”

 

SLY: “She’s cool, she’s had a long day.”

 

Bartender: “It is 2:30pm.”

 

SLY: “She got up really early?”

 

RT returned from the bar.  He did not say much. 

 

It was my turn to use the facilities.  I walked in and smelt the sour stench of vomit.

 

There is a reason we have bestowed the nickname of “Yack” upon RT.

 



RT: “Yeah, that was me.”

 

SLY: “It is time to leave.”

 

I managed to get us home safely.  RT lived up to his nickname once more as he walked from the car to inside the house.

 

We were all passed out before 4:00pm.

 

Pops arrived home.

 

Pops: “What the heck happened to you guys?”

 

SLY: “Pliny The Younger.”

 

It was official, Younger 1 The Three Bs 0.

 

On a side note, LJ claimed blackout status.  I believe her.

 

Round 2: 2/13/11.

 

Round 2 came about because KJ, Dante, and Pops were all unable to attend Round 1.

 

We were 9th in line at 10:00am Sunday morning.  I did my homework during Round 1 and asked our server what time we should show up.

 

He was right, by opening at 11:00am the line was easily 200 thirsty fellows long.

 

It was on, again.

 

The Youngers went down just as smoothly as two days prior. 

 

I had a game plan to drink a maximum of 3.   I diverged from the game plan. 

 

Dante led the way with 5, and KJ, Pops, and I had 4 each.



The Real Dante Hicks

 

We left Russian River Brewery happy and drunk.  Sweet Spot was patronized for a brew.  It was Déjà vu, a glitch in the Matrix. 

 

There were animal origami dollar bills next to the handles of beer.

 

I stole them.  I think I made $6 out of the deal.

 

Alcohol can alter ones judgment.

 

Pops drove us home but made one more pit stop.  A local Irish bar.  A round of Guinness and a game of pool apparently were on the agenda.

 

The teams were set as Dante and SLY versus Pops and KJ.

 

It was an epic battle of drunken pool shooting.  There were no sharks in this game, just guppies.

 

I went on a little run and had a shot to win the game.  I called my pocket, chalked the cue, reared back, and let her rip.

 

My aim and stroke were true.  The 8-ball fell into the correct pocket…followed by the cue ball. 

 

Pops cheered like a little school girl.

 

I hate losing.

 

We finished up our Irish water and Pops got us home safe. 

 

Pops had Rib-Eyes on the dinner menu.  How much better does food taste when you are intoxicated?

 

Dante and I decided to shoot the basketball around while the food was being prepared.  After a few half hearted shots the ball became stuck in the net.  I couldn’t jump and reach it (It is not my fault, I am short and white.).

 

Dante became the ball hero.  He jumped. He missed.  He jumped again.  He missed again.  It was agitating him.  He mustered up one more effort. Dante lowered his legs and exploded towards the sky. The explosion accounted for an extra 2.5 inches of vertical leap which allowed him to scrape the ball with his hand which subsequently broke the balls inertia and allowed the ball to fall harmlessly to the ground.

 

Dante was another story.


 

Boom!

 

Dante’s elbow was the first body part to hit the pavement.  It wasn’t pretty and blood was shed.

 

We should have just grabbed a broom.

 

Again, alcohol clouds judgment and athleticism.

 

Dante and I went inside to watch the basketball game on television.  This was not a safer option.  A 16oz glass was broken minutes later.  Shards of glass were all over the living room.

 

Alcohol deteriorates motor skills.

 

Dinner was served.  The steaks looked and smelled amazing.  They were still raw.  KJ is as good as it comes on the grill but…

 



Alcohol clouds judgment.

 

Pops took two bites of his steak before retiring to his room, never to be seen again.

 

Dante and KJ eventually found the courage to drive home.

 

I was asleep by 8:30PM.

 

I was up at 5:30AM the next day, Pops was making breakfast.

 

Pops: “I don’t remember anything from last night. Did we cook the steaks?”

 

SLY: “Wow, you had two bites before passing out.”

 

Pops: “That stuff (Pliny The Younger) is dangerous.”

 

SLY: “You said it.”

 

Pliny The Younger 2 The Three Bs 0.

 

Pliny The Younger 2011 Versus The Three Bs Recap:

 

Pliny The Youngers consumed: 34

 

Verified “Yacks” from RT: 2

 

Blackouts: 2 (LJ and Pops)

 

The yearly release of Pliny The Younger is an event that I will not miss.  It is a tradition that brings together many of the elements that make life so efffing amazing.  Great people, beer, food, adventure, and decisions we can look back on and laugh. 

 

Good times.

 

Quote of the year (thus far):

 

Dante Hicks: “I never listen to what my body tells me, I just grab another beer.”


The Bro Hug

Hey All- Check out my new website. I would appreciate it.  http://www.The-Three-Bs.com 

The Bro Hug

SLY

1/19/11

Bro Hug:  Noun or verb – a manly hug between two dudes who are cool with each other.

So I got off the airplane, saw my friend…there were bro hugs all around. Then we went to the bar for some shots to catch up.

 

Yep.

That just happened.

Ryan Howard giving my Father a bro hug on the field before game 3 of the NLCS.

How the hell did this happen?  

My Dad and his friend (Brad) signed up to hold the flag during the National Anthem before game 3 of the NLCS.  They were not rookies, as they signed up for the same duties before Los Gigantes home opener back in April.  They had to arrive at Pac Bell/SBC/AT&T Park at 7AM for “practice”.  My Dad and Brad were at the bar before 8AM. 

KJ and I arrived at the bar at 10AM. Holy Cow, it was a SSSSSS show.  My Pops and Brad were “in the game” deep.  Brad told us to put our drinks on the tab, we did not argue. 

Brad:  “You jerk-offs (term of affection) want to go onto the field and hold the flag?”

SLY:  “How are we going to do that?”

Brad: “You will walk on with us.”

SLY: “That easy?”

Brad:  “it is that easy, just stay in line.”

 SLY: “Game on.”

Flag duty report time was 11AM, we put in a good hour of work at the bar before we made our way out towards McCovey Cove.

We arrived to the Cove and the flag was laid along the walk way stretching from the right field entrance to center field.

It became obvious that KJ and I were not the only ones Brad and my Pops invited to hold the flag. Random new friends from the bar and walkers passing by ended up getting in line with us. 

The thought of jail time for trespassing crept into my mind.  I am not like Oscar from the office, I would not love jail.

Here is how this was even possible. 

The organizers had no way to verify who was actually supposed to hold the flag.  There were no stamps, bracelets, or shirts.

The organizers assumed only the people who practiced would show up for the real deal. 

There were a great number of flag crashers.

After an hour wait, it was go time.  The gates opened and we started our walk onto the field. 

I walked right onto the field.

It was surreal. 

We passed the Phillies bullpen.

KJ: “What’s up Chooch?” (Carlos Ruiz)

Carlos was a little stunned.

Pops, KJ, Myself, and Brad were all standing in right field.  Players were warming up 10 feet away.

I reached down and pulled grass from the outfield and filled my pants pockets.  It seemed like a good idea.  I then pulled out my camera.

Jayson Werth warmed up next to me.

SLY:  “You’d look good in Orange and Black.”

No response.

Ryan Howard then ran past me.

SLY:  “Smile for the camera Ryno.”

I really wanted to say “You should’ve taken Turtle’s Tequila offer in Entourage!”

Howard pointed at me and started to laugh.  My drunken reactions were a little late with the camera.  Damn.  That would’ve been a good shot.

I took in the scene and admired my good fortune. 

A blurring streak appeared out of my left eye near the foul line. 

The streak was my Pops as he ran over to Ryan Howard.

Uh-Oh. 

Security started to move in.

This isn’t good.  I grabbed my camera out.

A few words were exchanged between Howard and Pops, and then it happened.

I was stunned.

SLY: “Holy ****, I think I got a picture of that.  What the effff just happened.”

KJ: “Bro Hug, Bro… Bro Hug.”

The Flag Organizer yelled for my Pops to get back to the flag.

“Go Go Go” yelled the Flag Organizer.

I almost forgot what we were on the field for. 

Allen Iverson was right, who needs practice. 

KJ and I acted like we knew what we were doing.

We ran the flag out at a “high speed at our best speed.”

Ben Gibbard (Death Cab) performed the Star Spangled Banner.  Perfect.

When the anthem ended we walked off the field and then sprinted around the stadium.  We didn’t want to miss the first pitch.

Stupid walk ways, we arrived a batter late.

I asked Pops what he said to Howard.

Pops: “I was giving him hitting advice.”

This wasn’t the first time Pops has given an All-Start hitting tips.  Pops famously talked with David Wright in 2008 for over an hour at the Ritz in San Francisco. 

Pops does know the art of hitting, but it takes some serious stones (or an alcohol induced mind) to tell a MLB All-Star what they are doing wrong at the plate.

Ryno went 0-4. 

Pops is a Gigantes fan.

Matt Cain shoved, Los Gigantes went up 2-1 in the series, and I started to seriously believe Los Gigantes were going to win the series. 

Honestly, this was one of my favorite days of my life.

The Flag Organizers made a significant change for the World Series.  I noticed all the flag holders were wearing special shirts to designate who was actually supposed to be on the field. 

Blame the Bro Hug. 

 

Jedi Mind Tricks

 

Please Check out my Website, I’d really appreciate it: www.the-three-bs.com

SLY
1/5/10

How do you do it Mr. Boras? 

 

You don’t negotiate.  Many times your client has little leverage.  You make teams bid against themselves. 

 

I think you are one with the force. 

 

Scott Boras: “Jasyon Werth $126 million, pay you will. Need him, you do.”

 

Mike Rizzo: “Yes Master Boras.”

 

Scott Boras: “$96 Million, Adrian Beltre needs. Pay him you will, or an Athletic become he will.”

 

Jon Daniels: “You don’t have to use your Jedi Mind Tricks on me.  I love Star Wars and since you attempted to talk like Yoda, Ill give you what you want.  Tell Adrian we are good to go.”

 

It cannot be this easy, can it?

 

Upon hearing the news of Adrian Beltre’s 6 year $96 (if 6th year option vests) I went a little NuTs.

 

I proclaimed to all in earshot:

 

“Scott Boras could get me $2 million a year.”

 

A couple of co-workers (I guess they feel obligated to listen to my baseball rants) asked me how Scott Boras would sell me to a team. 

 

Easy, I am a good Clubhouse guy.

 

Here is how Mr. Scott Boras would sell Shaun Lauren Yaple to a Major League Baseball team.

 

Scott Boras: “A lot of people say you cannot put a price on chemistry in the clubhouse, well I can.  I created a binder for Shaun Lauren Yaple to illustrate all he can bring to your clubhouse and franchise.”

 

MLB GM: “Can he hit?”

 

Scott Boras: “Irrelevant.”

 

MLB GM: “Can he field?”

 

Scott Boras: “Irrelevant.”

MLB GM: “Run?”

 

Scott Boras: “Irrelevant.”

 

MLB GM: “Character?”

 

Scott Boras: “My client has team first mentality.  This applies off the field as well.  This is where YOU will find his value.  Mr. Yaple makes friends easy, he will surly be one of your Star players new best buds.  As we know, Stars need special treatment and Mr. Yaple will be there to assist.”

 

MLB GM: “How?”

 

Scott Boras: “For example, your Star player and my client go out for a few adult beverages.  After a couple hours they decide to leave, the Star is driving.  He crashes the vehicle.  My client will gladly switch seats and take the heat.  Of course the bonus escalators kick in once a situation like this occurs.”

 

MLB GM: “It is like asset protection.  How much does this service cost?”

 

Scott Boras: “$2 Million base, $100,000 for each misdemeanor, $250,000 for a felony, $1.2 million for each year in jail, and a 25 man roster spot.  As long as there are not any Ugueth Urbina characters, this is a must for your team.”

 

MLB GM: “What kind of playing time is he looking for?”

 

Scott Boras: “Irrelevant.” 

 

MLB GM: “I will send over the contract to our Attorneys.  I am going to leak this to www.mlbtraderumors.com. Thank you for your time Mr. Boras.”

 

Scott Boras:  “If you are happy with the service Mr. Yaple provides then I have another client that will meet your needs.  Kenneth L. Jones.”

 

MLB GM: “Tell me about him.”

 

Scott Boras: “The great Yogi Berra once said “90% of Baseball is mental, the other half is physical.” My Client can take care of the 90% part.”

 

MLB GM: “How?”

 

Scott Boras: “My Client is what we in the business call an “Ego Stroker”.  An “Ego Stroker” ensures players’ confidence levels are always high, therefore taking care of the 90% of the game.”

 

MLB GM: “Explain how your client will raise the confidence levels of my players.”

 

Scott Boras:  “My client will take batting practice with each player and remind them how great they are.  My client will delve into their past and find the time when they had their greatest successful in baseball, even if their greatest success came in little league. 

 

Kenneth Jones minored in Psychology at Napa Valley College, which is home to the #1 rated collegiate psychology program in Napa County.

 

My client will also participate in every intrasquad and simulated game during the season.  My client will strategically strike out, hit into double plays, and get picked off at opportune times to maximize confidence building.

 

Kenneth Jones also has amazing taste in music.  He is an amateur DJ who can make premier party mixes that cross nationality boundaries. 

 

As a Psychology minor, my client understands the notion “If you feel good, you play good.”  Everything my client does is calculated to stroke the ego of your fragile players.”

 

MLB GM: “Wow, this is even better than your clubhouse guy.”

 

Scott Boras: “Not better, it’s a different service. Both are highly trained and are the best at what they do.”

 

MLB GM: “What’s Kenneth Jones going to cost me?”

 

Scott Boras: “$1.5 million base, and $100k for every player with a +league average OPS, $100k for every positive UZR rating, and $1000 for every confidently screamed F-Yeah, and a 25 man roster spot.

 

MLB GM:  “What constitutes a confidently screamed F-Yeah?”

 

Scott Boras: “My accountant will be tracking the confidently screamed F-Yeahs.”

 

MLB GM: “I’ll have my lawyer draw up the contract.”

 

Scott Boras: “No need, I actually have the contracts for Shaun Yaple and Kenneth Jones drawn up, signed by the two players, and with the bonuses we agreed on.  All you have to do is sign here, here, here, here, and here.”

 

MLB GM: “Uhhh, Okay…Wait, are you sure these are the bonuses we agreed on?”

 

Scott Boras: “Sign you will. In demand, they are high.”

 

MLB GM: “Yes, Master Boras. Do you have any clients who actually play baseball?”

 

Scott Boras: “Of course I do, I have one of the most dominant young closers in baseball, Rafael Soriano. I am sure you are interested…”

 

….And that is how Master Scott Boras operates.

 

 

My favorite Three Bs items of the week.

 

Best Moment of the Week:

 

KJ called me at 1AM on Monday morning and awoke me with his musical stylings of this song:                                          


KJ also delivered the quote of the week when describing his actions afterward.

 

 

KJ: “It gave me a false sense that I was doing something right.”

 

 

Happy New Year!

BoOoOoO-RRRRIIIBBBEEE

From:

 

UUUUUUUUUUU-RRRRRRRIIIIBBBEEEEE!!!

 

UUUUUUUUUUU-RRRRRRRIIIIBBBEEEEE!!!

 

UUUUUUUUUUU-RRRRRRRIIIIBBBEEEEE!!!

 

To:

 

BoOoOoOOOOooOOooOOOOoooOO-RRRRIIIBBBEEE!!!

 

BoOoOoOOOOooOOooOOOOoooOO-RRRRIIIBBBEEE!!!

 

BoOoOoOOOOooOOooOOOOoooOO-RRRRIIIBBBEEE!!!

 

Heck, it might be:

 

FFFFFFFFFF-UUUUUUUU-RRRRRRIIIBBBEEEEE!!!

 

FFFFFFFFFF-UUUUUUUU-RRRRRRIIIBBBEEEEE!!!

 

FFFFFFFFFF-UUUUUUUU-RRRRRRIIIBBBEEEEE!!!

 

Mr. Happy Jazz Hands left us for the smog infested air of SoCal and the Bums.

 

 

 

Uribe_and_Colletti.jpg

Two Ex-Gigantes turned Bums

Say it ain’t so.

 

Do we dare boo one of our 2010 World Champion heroes?

 

Hell yes.

 

I’ll set the stage for FU-ribes return to Pac Bell/SBC/AT&T Park on Monday April 11th 2011.  It’ll be the 10th game of the season.  This should be a Barry Zito start, but the $126 million dollar singer/songwriter will probably fall into the 2 or 4 spot in the rotation.  For this hypothetical, Madison Bumgarner gets the start.

 

Uribe is in the six hole in Donny Baseball’s lineup.

 

Top 2nd, nobody on, one out:

 

Renel Brooks-Moon: Now batting #5, 2nd baseman, Juan Uu-ribe.

(It is painfully obvious that Renel wants to belt out the UUUUUU as she has done the past two seasons, but her heart will not allow her to justify an enthusiastic announcement of a Bum.  The announcement is understated and subdued.)

 

 


renel.jpg 

 

I am in attendance and stand up from my seat.  I want to pay my respects (with a golf clap) to a man who gave the fans many thrilling moments the past couple seasons.

 

I am about to clap when the inebriated man next to me (I am also in such a state) starts to join in an all too familiar chant:

 

UUUUUUUU-RRIIIBBEE!!!!

 

…but it is not, it is what we all expected.

 

BoOoooOOoooooO-RRRIIIBBBEEEE!!!

 

Before I start to clap, I join the mob.

 

BoOoooOOoooooO-RRRIIIBBBEEEE!!!

 

BoOoooOOoooooO-RRRIIIBBBEEEE!!!

 

Now I am getting into it, alcohol and adrenaline seem to be a good combination (I think I finally get UFC fans).

 

FFFFFF-UUUUUUUU-RRRRIIIBEE.

 

Mother sitting behind me: “My children are here. Watch your mouth.”

 

SLY: “They need to learn hate at an early age.” (Obviously not ready to be a Parent)

 

Madison gets BoOOo-Ribe to pop up on the first pitch (he was a lot of excited).

 

…Roar from 41,952.

 

Top of the 5th, 1 out, runner on first: 2-0 Good Guys.

 

Renel sounded less enthused with her second announcement of Uribe.  She understands he’s gone for good. 

 

BooOooOOooOOoo-Ribe chants are deafening. 

 

On a 2-1 count BoOoooO-Ribe hits a ground ball to his replacement Miguel Tejada.  Tejada underhands to Freddy Sanchez at second for the force out and Sanchez throws a strike to Aubrey Huff at 1st to complete the double play. 

 

…Roar from 41,952.

 

Tejada and Uribe each have a GIDP to end an inning. 

 

Top of the 8th, 2 out, runners on 1st and 2nd:  The score is still 2-0 Good Guys.

 

Renel announces JUUAAAN with high energy as she was accustomed too with a big at bat, she quickly realizes it is for the wrong team and tails off on the Uribe.  Renel sighs in disgust.

 

BoOoOooOOOOoooO-Ribe chants continue.

 

Boch’s bowed legs take him 21 seconds to make it from the front step of the dugout to the mound to remove Bumgarner after 7 2/3 innings of shut out ball. 

 

Sergio Romo takes the ball.

 

1st pitch: Fast ball, fouled straight back.

 

2nd pitch: Slider, wild swing and a miss.

 

3rd pitch: Fastball inside, get Uribe off the plate.

 

4th pitch: Slider… hanging slider.  Uribe Swings…

 

 


BOOOribe.jpg 

I used to love this sight, no more.

 

 

All I see is the white palms of Uribe’s batting gloves.

 

 

 

swearing.jpg

SLY: “Mother F#4%ing Son of a B#$h!”

 

Mother: “Dead beat Son of a rats Fu*&$ing puke” 

 

(Looks of horror from her children)

 

41,952 BOOOOOOOOOOOOOS shower Juan as he circles the bases.

 

3-2 for the Bad Guys.

 

Donny Baseball goes Jonathan Broxton for the save. Donny remembers the proper rules about visiting the mound this game. 

 

Broxton gets to blow the game all on his own.

 

Freddy Sanchez does a flip job over Uribe’s head for a single.

 

Buster Posey (hitting 3rd) takes a walk.

 

Aubrey Huff hits a ball into triples alley.  There is no throw.  Posey scores standing.

 

Good Guys win 4-2.

 

Suck it Bums.

 

I stumble my way over to 21st Amendment where KJ and I discuss Juan Uribe as a Dodger.  After 5 Brew-Free-Or-Die IPA’s I finally get it:

 

SLY: “I got it.”

 

KJ: “What do you got?”

 

SLY: “I understand why Juan left us?”

 

KJ: “Why did he?”

 

SLY: “He has to feed his children.”

 

KJ: “$3 Million wouldn’t feed his children?  That’s a lot of money”

 

SLY: “$3 Million is a lot to you or me, but to a professional athlete it is not.  As we learned from Patrick Ewing, athletes make a lot of money, but they spend a lot of money.”

 

KJ: “HotLanta Gentlemen Clubs.”

 

SLY: “Now you understand. He needs that extra money.  I’ll break it down for you.  Juan signed a 3 year deal.  That means at least 3 trips to Atlanta over the next 3 years.  That’s 3 opportunities to get himself in trouble at the Gentleman Clubs.  I heard a stat on a blog where 1 out of every 3 trips to an Atlanta Gentlemen Club results in a lawsuit of some kind.  He really is just protecting himself.”

 

KJ: “Makes sense to me, if you read it on a blog, it must be true.”

 

SLY: “Words don’t lie.”

 

 

I am certain this is the exact way April 11th, 2011 will play out.

 

Dodger fans, be warned.

 

You are bringing in a person who assaults Dodger fans. 

 

He will hit you in the head with a baseball when you are not looking.

 

Watch the Slow-Mo.

 

Awesome. J

Your Playoff Beard is Weird

I have never
been to a Gigantes playoff game where they were victorious. 
I am 0 for 2.


I went to
those games as a child. 


I am now
legally able to purchase alcoholic beverages, which makes me a man.


I stated in
the previous post I was going to dye my beard ala B-Jeezy .


I went for
it, big time.


I rushed
home from work around 2:00pm last Thursday. 
The Just for Men was ready to
rock.  The color was labeled as REAL BLACK.  (That’s why it looks so damn good on men,
words don’t lie.)  

Just-for-Men real black.jpg

5 Easy Minutes? I think not.


I quickly read the
instructions.  I figured I’ve seen the commercials
enough where my man instincts would take over. 
I mixed the color and went to town on my beard.  I then proceeded to make a fatal JFM booboo.  One month before my 27th day of
birth, my beard still comes in patchy.  

beard me smaller.jpg

I
thought it’d be a good idea to brush the patchy areas with the color brush.  I had 5 minutes to kill (downed a beer) while
the color set.  I was surprised how much
the JFM stung my face.  I wonder if
B-Jeezy had the same experience.


The painful
5 minutes ended and I jumped into the shower. 
I got out and was met with hysterical laughter from Lj.  My patchy spots were still filled in with the
real black color of JFM.

batter up tn.jpg

Holy Mother Effing
Toledo Uranus Saturn Christo.


I looked
amazing…


That’s what
I kept telling myself.


I freaked
out, Lj told me the dye might stay in my skin for a week.  I had work in 48 hours.  I had JFM regret, but I imagine that’s part
of the experience.


I hastily
grabbed some household items that may remove the dye from my skin. 


The items
included:


1. Make-up
removal.


2. Nail
polish removal.


3. K-Y Warming
Sensation Lube (Awkward…)


4. Tattoo
lotion


5. Proactiv
daily scrub


I had to own
it; the dye was here to stay.


I wasn’t planning
on wearing the Timmy wig and Jersey, but hell, might as well go all out.


I put the
outfit on and looked in the mirror.


The reflection
showed equal parts Tim Lincecum, Jesus Christo, and Brian Wilson.

 timmy jesus wilson.jpg

Timmy Jesus
Wilson
.


The gang
loaded into the vehicle and we were off to Pac Bell/SBC/AT&T Park.  Lj asked me to get sunglasses out of the
center console. 


My thought process: I
am driving, why doesn’t Lj grab the glasses. 
Whatever. 

I opened the console and found an item with the glasses, a
freakin Smirnoff Ice.    


Lj and KJ
thought this was hilarious.


Holy Mother Effing
Toledo Uranus Saturn Christo.


SLY: “I am
not drinking this until we get there.”


KJ: “I’ll
keep it warm for ya.”


KJ took the Smirnoff
Ice and proceeded to place the bottle under his butt to insure safe keeping.


Thanks KJ.


When arrived
at the parking lot, I got on one knee and accepted my icing like a champ. 

iced beard tn.jpg


The group
walking by us laughed rather hard.  I don’t
know if they laughed at my appearance or the icing, possibly a combination of
both.


Pete’s was
on our pregame agenda.


My
Grandparents were also attending the game and were to meet us at Petes.

Here is all
you need to know about my Grandparents. 


My Grandmother
on my Grandfather and his alcohol consumption:


Grandmama: “Your
Grandfather may not be able to walk or talk, but he can always drive us home.”

drunk couple.jpg

I love my
Grandparents.


When we met
them at the bar they already had a table and drink.  My Grandmother did not recognize me.  Once she realized it was me, she told me “I
was sooo ugly” about 12 times in 25 minutes. 

this guy (beard) tn.jpg

How is this mug ugly?


My G-Parents
are no rookies at the bar scene.  My
Grandpa ordered a Jack on the rocks and my Grandma ordered a white zin. 


My Grandpa
also brought a 13oz flask of Jack.  My
Grandma brought a jug of wine.  They
continued to re-fill their glass.


Pros.


After the
quality pre-game, it was time to get into the park. 


I made notes of things that were said to me because of my appearance. 


Here are the
top comments:


“Fear the
Beard.”


“Your Beard
is weird.”


“Woah, what
happened?” (My response: JFM is more complicated than it looks on TV.)


“Is that
real?”


My friend Brad
came up clutch with tickets; they were 4 rows from the field, right past first
base. 


Thanks Brad.


Timmy took
the hill and the park took on an electric feel. 


We all know
what happened next.


CG SHO 14K
performance.


I had to
write a short poem for the historical performance.


Timm-EE, Timm-EE

All the hitters whine

Butts return to the pine

14 Ks though Nine

Smoke Smoke Celebration Time

Timm-EE, Timm-EE

 


Remember
Timmy in August?  I prayed to Jesus
Christo to end Timmy’s Cy Yuck funk.  Jesus
is obviously a fan of #55.


I was the
guy at the yard who led the booing of Braves fans.  If I spotted a Braves fan, I would stop,
point with two (more manly than one) fingers, and yell “Boooo That Man.”


Booing commenced. 


Braves fan
realized he was not welcome. 


I do not
remember much about the ride home.  I
remember I was one happy boy.


My first playoff
victory made me feel warm and tingly inside. 
I was ready for game two.


Friday,
October 8th, 2010.


Game 2


A revelation
occurred when I washed my face.  The
toner (step 2) of the Proactiv system took the dye off my face.  I no longer wanted to look like a man with a
sharpie on his face.  I used about $16.36
of Proactiv toner to remove the excess dye from the skin of my face. 


I have been
told by my Hispanic friends that I am an honorary Mexican because of my love of
the food and tequila.  I now looked the
part as well.  Too bad it wasn’t Cinco de
Mayo.


KJ and I left
for the yard after a quick gym session.  We
arrived at the parking lot, and there was no attendant, but we parked
anyways.  We headed to 21st
Amendment for a little pre-game until the attendant could take our money. 


Per usual,
21st Amendment was fantastic, great brews and food.  With our belts loosened and our brains mushy,
we walked back to the parking lot.


There was still
no attendant.


Maybe it was
the 9.7% brews or maybe it was our gambling background.  We made a decision that could drastically
alter our night.

life_is_a_gamble_ed_hardy-1361.jpg

KJ: “Screw
it, let’s roll the dice.”


SLY: “I don’t
think Jack (Attendant’s name) looks at the tickets.  He’s more concerned with dying.”


KJ: “A tow
truck wouldn’t even fit in here.”


SLY: “A parking
ticket is like $45, only $15 more than what they’re charging.”


KJ: “On to
Pete’s.”


After Pete’s
we made our way into the yard.  We had
the same seats as game one, boooyeeehawwww.


I had total confidence
in Cain, and he dealt. 


Admittedly,
I thought the game was over when Pat the Bat went 3-run jimmy jack in the
first.


Bobby Cox
got run for the final time in his hall of fame career.


I was almost
in celebration mode. 


I know,
premature guy.


I continued
to make Braves fans feel uncomfortable for coming into our yard. 


I never felt
better yelling at a grown man.


Brad and I
did start quite a few chants to heckle a Brave.

We heckled a player not
even on the roster, the bullpen catcher.

drunk-man-sober-thoughts.gif

I don’t know
his first name but his last name was Butts.


Awesome.


The chants
started out harmless.


Brad: “BIIIGGGGG!”


SLY: “BUTTTS!”

X3


Brad: “SMMMEEEEELLLLLYYYY!”


SLY: “BUUUUTTTSSS!”

X3


They started
to get worse…


Brad: “YOU
LIKE IT IN YOURRRRRR…..”


SLY: “BUUUUUUUTTTTTTSSSSS.”

X3


We started to take requests from other Gigantes fans for chants they wanted to hear with “Butts”
involved.  They ranged from G-NC-17
ratings. 


We had David
Ross in stitches.


A non-fan
friendly Usher told us he was watching us, and we were not permitted to heckle
players.


That was a
buzz kill.


We continued
the chants until the Braves mounted the game tying rally in the 8th.  I was no longer in celebration mode.  Rick Ankiel punched 44,032 Gigantes fans in the stomach.  Doesn’t he know we came to see Los Gigantes win?

Stomach-Punch.jpg

Stomach
punch loss. 


My mind now
wondered if KJ’s truck would still be in the parking lot.  I walked up 2nd Street, turned
down Brannon, and approached the lot.


Gamble paid
off, the truck was still there.


FP was on
fire on the leader during the ride home. 
He was combative and had zero tolerance for poor baseball knowledge from
callers. 


KJ and I
were angry about the outcome but still had a very positive outlook on the
series. 


We got home
around 1:30am.  I had to be at work in 6
hours.  Uggh. 


The beard
was shaved off so I could look somewhat professional at work Saturday
morning.  I did have an awesome 5 O’clock
shadow due to the real blackness of
JFM.


Sunday, October
10th

Game 3


Dirty
Sanchez+ Brooks Conrad = Gigantes Victory.


Big ups to
Fred Sanchee for the 2 out hit to extend the 9th inning for
Huff.  That’s why you were brought to the
team.


If I ever
meet Brooks, I am buying that man as many drinks as he needs.  I feel he will be hitting the bottle often
the next couple days, months, and years. 
I hope this series hasn’t ruined his life.  I am dead serious.  His friends need to be on suicide watch. 


I put myself
on suicide watch when I had a horrible game in high school and made a few
errors. 


Confidence
is everything in baseball.  It is going
to take him a long time to recover. 


I loved the
result, but feel for the guy. 


Monday,
October 11th

Game 4


C-Lew joined
KJ and I to watch the game, he brought beer. 
Good man as always.  I arrived in
the 3rd inning, freakin 4:30pm start time.  It was 1-0 Braves.


Lowe was
dealing. 


RT text’d us
how he was pissed the Gigantes were getting no-hit by a guy on three days’
rest.  KJ, C-Lew and I all stated the
same mantra “We’re one pitch away from tying this game.”


6th
inning: Insert Cody Ross, Hero.

greatest-american-hero.jpg

Hero


New ballgame.


McCann took
MadBum deep to reclaim the lead in the 6th.   McCann
is a straight stud.


This is where
los Gigantes have been so tough all season. 
They scratch, claw, bite, and do any thing possible thing to eke out
runs. 


Top of the 7th
was no different. 


Who got the
big 2 out hit?


Cody Ross,
Hero.


Cassilla,
Loogy, and Wilson close out the game.


Celebration Time
included a class move to applaud and pay respects to Bobby Cox’s career.


Bring on the
Cheesesteaks. 


Saturday
cannot come fast enough.


If you haven’t
seen Ashkon’s “Don’t Stop Beilieving” Gigantes 2010 Anthem, you need to check
it out.  


Honestly.  I am jealous I do not have the talent to do
something like this.

I love the Will
“The Thrill” impersonation.  




Playoff Beards and RE-CON Missions

Top of the 1st, 2 outs, Denorfia on 2nd base, Adrian Gonzalez at the plate:

 

SLY: “Pitch around A-Gon, don’t let this dude beeee, EFFFFFFFF, OH GOD!!!  Thank you God, Thank you.”

 

Gonzalez hit a line drive directly at Juan Uribe to end the inning.

 

KJ: “Dude, you need to relax.”

 

SLY: “I am relaxed! I am fine.”

 

 

nervous.png

I was not, fine.  I was a nervous wreck.  I screamed, moaned, cheered, and acted as the game meant more to the world than peace in the Middle East.

 

I was calm before the game.  KJ and I had a conversation while the 49ers fumbled (Two words Nate, Ball-Security) their game away about how we were confident in a Gigantes victory. 

 

C-Lew alerted that he would grace us with his presence for the game.

 

 


CLew%20Loverboy.jpg(Remember C-Lew?  Here is a picture to jog the memory)

 

C-Lew’s impending arrival gave us a chance to plan an “Icing” (Please refer to previous post if you do not understand the term).

 

I placed a warm Smirnoff Ice on the welcome mat outside the front door.  The sun light added a few tasty degrees to delicious beverage.

 

Game time.

 

It was obvious I was a nervous wreck.  KJ threw me a Silver Bullet to relax. 

 

Bottom One.

 

Andy Torres got the screw job from Mike Everitt on a ball down the left field line.  The replays showed chalk in the air.

 

I decided to Hoot & Holler.

 

“HEY MIKEY, ONE MORE EYE AND YOU’D BE A CYCLOPES.”

 

 

cyclopes.gif

 

The call cost us a run, thanks Mike.  Eff you.  I will forever hate your stinkin’ guts.

 

I have issues.

 

C-Lew showed up in the 2nd.  KJ and I awaited the icing.

It didn’t happen.  C-Lew came in through the slider.

 

Gosh-dang it.

 

C-Lew did bring beer.  Good Man.

 

All was not lost in the icing department.  I had a plan to ice KJ after los Gigantes won the west. 

 

I audibled to C-Lew.

 

I alerted KJ to the audible (I did not tell him the ice was meant for him, but I am sure he knew).  The Ice was placed in front of a bottle of tequila, when C-Lew fetched another round of beers I would ask him to pour up a round of shots.  Icing complete.

 

Bottom 3:

 

Mat Latos threw a pitch into the one zone that Dirty Sanchee’s swing path crosses.

 

Stand-up triple.

 

Un-freakin-believable.

 

Torres could not come through.  With 2 outs, Fred Sanchee could. 

 

1-0 Gigantes.  High fives, fist pounds, and other male cheering riturals were liberally given to one another.

 

Aubrey Efffing Huff hits the big double to make it 2-0.

 

C-Lew heads to the fridge for a fresh cold one.

 

SLY: “Pour up three rally shots.”

 

C-Lew: “Where at?”

 

SLY: “In the cabinet above the bar.”

 

C-Lew opened the cabinet.

 

C-Lew: “What the hell is this?” (Referring to the Smirnoff Ice.)

 

KJ: “HAHAHAHAHAHA, you just got ICED bro.”

 

C-Lew: “Whhhhhaaaat?”

 

KJ: “It is a game, where participation is mandatory.”

 

C-Lew: “What do I have to do?”

 

icy.jpg

KJ: “Get down on one knee, and do not get up until it is finished.”

 

C-Lew: “Can I get a cold one?”

 

KJ: “No, it has to be warm.  It is in the rules.”

 

C-Lew got on one knee and pounded it like a champ.

 

C-Lew: “You guys still want the shot?”

 

KJ and SLY: “That’s a silly question.”

 

Sanchez battled through 5+ and gave way to the bullpen.

 

The bullpen has been lights out.

 

Zeros ensued.

 

Buster Posey locked up the ROY with a solo bomb in the 8th.  He doesn’t have the curtain call thing mastered yet.  He will have time to learn.

 

On comes B-Weezy.  Easy 1-2-3. 


2010 nl west champs.jpg 

 

Celebration time.

 

More enthusiastic male celebratory rituals commenced.

 

Our celebration continued to the backyard.  Beers were cracked and happy f-bombs were liberally spewed for the entire neighborhood to enjoy.

 

I hope children were not within earshot. 

 

 

-ear-muffs.jpg

EAR MUFFS KIDS!

 

We watched the post game celebration, highlighted by Timmy dropping a massive F-Bomb in his interview with AmyG. 

 

f-bomb.jpg

Best piece AmyG has ever been apart of. 

 

Goodness, I appreciate this postseason birth more than the previous ones in my lifetime.

 

Los Gigantes re-built their team in year 3AB (After Barry). 

 

There are zero everday players from the 2007 lineup to the 2010 lineup.

 

I love pitching.

 

We came down from our high and cleaned up to go a concert.  My friend (Steve) recently was signed by a record label and had one his first shows with his new band (Dazeafter). 

 

 

SteveRobb.jpg

Steven Robb of Dazeafter

 

I wanted to show my support and check out the band.

 

C-Lew had another agenda.

 

RE-CON MISSION.

 

C-Lew is a man of the law.  He saw a group of people who are not law abiding citizens and wanted to do work.

 

There was a strong presence of H.A.’s at the concert venue.  C-Lew called his co-worker who worked in the gang unit and alerted him of the situation. 

 

 

 

gangland.jpg

 

C-Lew got the green light to snap some pictures of the H.A.’s at the show.  He got advice: be careful.

 

C-Lew brought us into the fold.  He took out his phone and asked us if we could hear the shutter of the camera.

 

KJ: “Yes, don’t get us killed.”

 

C-Lew set his camera settings to silent and went on his mission.

 

Alcohol is an invincibility cloak.

 

C-Lew is a professional; he was not noticed and did his job well.

 

He wanted to talk to the local police at the show, he asked us for some advice first.

 

C-Lew: “Do I sound too intoxicated?”

 

SLY: “You’re good.  Just slow down your speech pattern and enunciate every syllable.”

 

…….says the guy who stumbles over his own words stone sober.

 

C-Lew approached Lodi’s finest; he must have talked too fast and not enunciated very well.  He was back within a minute.

 

We made our way into the theater.  Dazeafter came on, Steve sounded great, and the band played tight.  Dazeafter is going on tour with Sevendust in February.  Check them out at www.dazeafter.com.

 

Great job Steve.

 

We made it home without further incident, I would like to praise Jesus Christo.

Back to los Gigantes, I am fortunate enough to have tickets for all los Gigantes home playoff games.

 

Thank you Brad.  Who do I have to kill for you?

 

You think I am joking.

 

To help los Gigantes on their quest for a World Series title, I am growing a playoff beard, which I will dye jet black with Just for Men in homage to los Gigantes bullpen.

 

The last time I really went for the playoff beard was 2008 for the San Jose Sharks.  I was in college and I thought it looked fantastic.  One of my professors called me aside after class.

 

Professor (Woman): “Shaun, you are a good looking kid, but you look horrible.  Why are you growing that thing?”

 

SLY: “It’s a playoff beard, for the Sharks.”

 

Professor: “Girls are not going to find you attractive, shave it off.”

 

I trimmed it when I got home.

 

My facial hair is two years more mature, the patchiness has improved.

 

I am going for it.  It will be hideous, and I will love it.

 

It may be my permanent look if los Gigantes win it all.

 

Ill be debuting the new look at Pete’s before Game one.

 

Happy Playoffs.