Because I Said So
Given regular Yard columnist Brad Zellar's extended and unexplained hiatus, City Pages has once again asked retired North Country Sportsman columnist and editor Spud Galligan to pinch hit this week.
By Spud Galligan
Not to crap in anybody's punchbowl, but the way our local nine has been playing of late, they're gonna have a hard time beating a pick-up squad of Mary Jo Copeland's waifs come playoff time. God help them if Copeland has an orphan who twirls from the left side... I wasn't about to waste my Sunday afternoon, but I didn't have to turn on the idiot box to know that the goon squad that passes for a National Football League team in these parts busted the nuts of their idiot faithful per usual. Retirement does have its benefits: I'll have Rock Hudson's name tattooed on my backside before I'll sit through another NFL game...
Have you seen this Ichiro fella? Everywhere the banjo-hitting lightweight goes the Japanese show up in droves. If this guy was the MVP last year I'll eat Don Zimmer's shorts... I was talking to some of the Twins youngsters the other day and they swear by these Cracker Barrel restaurants. Me, I'm a buffet guy. There's been a hole in my life since the old Jolly Troll went under out in Bloomington...I miss the old Bloomington Strip. The city hasn't been the same since we lost the Rusty Scupper and the incomparable Carlton Celebrity Room. I saw funnyman Slappy White out at the Carlton one night and I laughed so damn hard I vomited in an ashtray. There was a guy who could find laughs in a litter box...
There isn't a decent watering hole left in this dandified burg...
Friends swear to me that the Twins would be 40 games up if Hall of Famer Tom Kelly was still at the helm...This X-Games horse hooey scares the pants off me...What the hell ever happened to Steve Cannon? There was a class act...Is it just me, or does it seem like baseball's arbiters have gotten too damn skinny? There was a time when they were all fatter than Boog Powell....
The older I get the more convinced I am that my old colleague Sid Hartman once shagged Carol Channing. One other thing you probably don't know about the Sidster: the man loves a root beer float. In the Driving Miss Daisy department: I hear rumor that these days Sid's being squired about town by none other than up-and-comer Mike Max. Maxie apparently chauffeured the old bachelor to the All Star game in Milwaukee. My sources tell me they were gone before the first pitch...You don't see 'em much anymore, but I used to get a big kick out those old apartment wrestling magazines. Back in the day photographs of a couple gals in their underwear thrashing each other in the living room was all it took to spark the old imagination...I'll tell you a couple fillies who get an old man's juices jangling: Adrienne Barbeau and Tina Louise. Don't know if either of them are still alive, but they really had the goods...
Now that I've lost my choppers I don't get out for a beefsteak anymore, but I still dream about a slab of red meat from Murray's... I hear tell that Twins radio man John Gordon is headed to Malaysia at season's end for a rare sincerity gene transplant... If I could do it all over again I'd love to be a shrink. The human mind never fails to amaze me... The youngsters who write about our grand game need to lighten up a little bit, for crying in the rain. What an unhappy bunch of characters. It pains me to admit that before I took an anger management class in a failed attempt to save my job I was in the same flooded boat...
I know these cotton-picking bobblehead dolls put heinies in the seats, but for Pete's sake, couldn't they make a decent effort to make the damn things actually look like these people? Poor Tom Kelly's nodder looked like Harry S Truman...Memo to the folks at the Metrodome: enough already with the Lee Greenwood. I'm as American as the next guy, but that song makes my bowels seize up. Speaking of the Dome honchos, scoreboard poobah Dick Davis talks so much trash he makes Gary Payton look like Orville Redenbacher... Regarding my old friend Twins PA man Bob Casey: We should all look so good when we're dead...The battleaxe thinks I'm out of my bean, but I still say this ice skating monkey business is for the birds...I keep the phonograph around just so I can listen to my old Kingston Trio records...I was looking through one of my scrapbooks the other night and it seems like in the '70s all the ball players and scribes had permanent waves...You couldn't pay me enough to sit through a Little League baseball game...I hate kids...
Did you know that the Mick used to go to work in the mines back in Oklahoma when the season ended? It would do some of these kids in the big leagues today a world of good to spend a few months of their life up to their caboose in slaughterhouse entrails...You don't see as many nuns out at the ballpark as you used to...If you get a chance check out Tom Clancy's latest tome. I agree with my old friend Dan Barreiro; Clancy's one of the great ones. It's a crying shame he didn't have enough money to buy the Purple a few years back. A guy like that could make all of our lives a whole lot more interesting...I could eat tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches every day of the week...I did get out to the park to catch the Oakland squad when they were in town riding their hot streak, and I gotta tell you that they didn't much impress me. Some of the Twins teams of old would have made quick work of that pitching staff of greenhorns...No one was sorrier than I was to hear about Robert Blake's recent legal woes. Mark my words, this guys is no Juice Simpson. Baretta was a hell of a program, and I had the good fortune to meet Blake once upon a time in New York and he struck me as a prince among men. It's a sad story all around, and I hope things work out for the man. And that's the name of that tune...I can't tell you how miserable I was to hear about the second coming of those blasted Homer Hankies. As my old friend Jumbo observed during their first unseemly appearance, there's nothing quite so pathetic as seeing a crowd of otherwise right-minded folks mincing and jumping up and down waving handkerchiefs like a bunch of school marms on a train platform...Why didn't I think of that: the iPod...My sources tell me that Fox SportsNets young Clay Matvick is a rising star. Couldn't happen to a nicer fella...One thing that pains me to this day: I've never in my life owned anything but a late-model, piece-of-crap used car. In my time we didn't make the kind of salad these kids in the press box make today...Finally, you can take this to the bank: Baseball's recent labor agreement doesn't solve a damn thing, but the New York Yankees remain as much of an aberration as the Twins and the A's. You've got plenty of these freewheeling bozos at the top of baseball's pig pile who have as little chance for long-term success as the little guys at the bottom. That's just the way it's always been, and that's the way it's always gonna be...because I said so!
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