Bailiff: “All Rise. The Court for Crimes against Baseball is now in Session. Honorable Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis presiding”

Judge Landis: “Be Seated. Bailiff, first case on the Docket?”

Bailiff: “The Fans of Baseball v. Omar Teodoro Antonio Minaya y Sanchez”

Judge Landis: “Bailiff, what are the Charges?”

Bailiff: “Multiple Counts of High Crimes and Misdemeanors against the game of Baseball. The charges are from Texas, Montreal, and New York”

Judge Landis: “Would the defendant please rise? Bailiff, please read the charges into the record”

Bailiff: “While with the Texas Rangers, Mr. Minaya, the Defendant, was responsible for the signing of Juan Gonzalez and Sammy Sosa. ‘Juan Gone’ and Sosa allegedly played a big role in ushering in the steroid era in Baseball.

Upon his departure from Texas, The defendant became an accomplice of one Steve Phillips, a known philanderer, responsible for dismantling the Mets of the late 1990’s through neglect.

The Defendant then moved on to Montreal Canada, where he proceeded to single handedly dismantle the future of the now Washington Nationals by trading Cliff Lee, Grady Sizemore, Brandon Phillips and Lee Stevens to the Cleveland Indians for Bartolo Colón, a ‘rental player’, while three of the former Expos went on to become Allstars. Mr. Colon proceeded to eat his way out of baseball and now is Rex Ryan’s stunt double on “Hard Knocks”.

Having escaped the Canadian border patrol, the Defendant ended up in New York, where he began a period of haphazardly acquiring future criminals such as Ambiorix Burgos and Francisco Rodriquez.

The Defendent is also accused of systematically diverting millions of dollars of New York Mets Fans money through the misguided signings of Luis Castillo and Oliver Perez. Charges are also pending for the signing of Jason Bay, although, at this time, the Grand Jury is still out.

Judge Landis: “Mr. Minaya, I have reviewed the evidence for each of these charges and have determined that you are guilty of each one. Your sentence will be announced at the conclusion of the 2010 baseball season. At this time you may address the court if you would like to do so.”

Omar Minaya: “Yes sir, Judge, uh, your honor. Where’s the camera? Oh, over here. Yes, your honor, I’ve got something to say, you know what I’m saying’?

While some of what that Bailiff guy said was partially true, and I got nobody to blame for that except myself, and maybe Tony Bernazard, and yes, maybe even Adam Rubin, I should point out what I feel, have been some of the good I’ve done for these teams that you mention here today.

I mean, yeah, that was a bad trade in Montreal, but you know, who even knew what an Expo was at the time. I was working for a team named after a Fair in Canada, you know what I’m saying’? I put them on the map, ’cause, let’s face it, you look at a map of the United States and you don’t see Montreal, you know what I’m sayin’?

And down there in Texas, you know I didn’t tell Juan Gone to use the juice. I mean yeah, so one year he had like 180 RBI, and this year it’s gonna take a miracle for most guys to get 100, but you know he got some people to go to the games down there. Most nights they had more Mosquitos than fans down there so it was good.

So you know everybody wants to ask me about New York and what happened. I mean we had a competitive team for awhile 2006, even 2007 when Willie starting spacing out on me at the end, and 2008 when everybody loved Jerry.

But the biggest crime, I’m going to confess to is the building of CitiField. You know, Mr. Wilpon, Fred, I love that old guy. You know he’s big buddies with Sandy Koufax and every year he has him go down to St. Lucie and try to teach Ollie how to pitch, you know that Lefty thing. All he wanted was to have a team that could pitch.

Let’s face it, my track record on getting a team some pitching depth without giving up the farm ain’t too good. One time I score with Santana, and nobody wants to trade with me anymore. So it’s that endless stream of Jose Lima’s, God rest his soul, and Geremi Gonzalez, uh, Geremi Gone for short and for real, and that bald Gringo with the funny beard, Tim somebody, so, you know, I got no luck there. If they weren’t already here and in the system, fuhgettaboutit.

So here’s what I did, when they were laying out the field, I snuck in one night and take all their tape measures you know, from those Union Carpenters, I mean they just leave their tools laying around. I substitute some tape measures I picked up down in China town from Mr. Hoo’s Tools and Dumplings that measure about 1 foot 1 inch for every foot and before you know it those fences are pushed back and our pitchers are looking good. Our hitter’s hate it, but Mr. Wilpon’s a happy man, you know what I’m sayin’? I did it for Fred.”

Judge Landis: “Hold the defendant in custody until sentencing. Court adjourned”

Incase you haven’t heard, young Daniel Murphy is working on his 2nd base skills down at Port St Lucie in hopes for a triumphant return in 2011.  While many of the usual suspects, such as Mets personnel and fans have voiced their support for Murph on the comeback trail he also received words on encouragement from someone quite unexpected, actress/substance enthusiast Lindsay Lohan.

Lohan, who reportedly has been progressing so well in rehab reached out to Murphy through the press.  “I really admire him.  I mean I’ve only been in rehab a few days and this guy is always rehabbing. Such a strong spirit” “We have much in common, we’re both young, talented and trying to get our minds and careers right, its a tough road but I understand what he’s going through” She went on to say.

It turns out the rehab Murph is going through is not so far off from what Lohan is undergoing, a Mets St. Lucie coach who asked to remain anonymous said. “Murph is gonna have temptations when he gets back to playing in games.  His rehab is as much mental as it is about the injury” He then detailed a harrowing night when Murph first came to St. Lucie:

“He walked into the clubhouse, and we gave him his 2nd baseman’s mitt. He then looked on the table, saw a 1st basemans mitt and freaked.  I grabbed the 1st baseman’s mitt and said “NO” I even put Ikes # on it as a deterrent but he was belligerent. Things really flew off the hinges when he grabbed an outfielders mitt.  Again I took it back. I thought the ordeal was over. Wrong.  Midnite someone wakes me with a phone call.  Murph is down on the practice field they tell me.  He’s lost it.  I get to the field and there’s Murph.  Wearing nothing but a spikes, socks, a jock and ball cap.  With a #29 on his back written in infield clay.  He’s moving on 1st base as if he’s taking grounders from a batter that isn’t there. Poorly.  We chased him around the infield until he collapsed in a heap just behind the pitchers mound.  Do I think he can do it? Sure but it won’t be easy. Just like that Lohan girl is gonna one day be somewhere and see a pile of drugs and have to control herself Murph is gonna have to learn how to handle seeing someone else but on a 1st basemans or outfielders mitt in the clubhouse.  I understand why the kid might be confused, he’s been through more gloves then a proctologist.”

As far as this unlikely pair uniting goes its still a possibility.  However Murph made it seem like a very slight possibility when he said “I’m flattered by her support.  I mean, ‘Georgia Rules’ is one of my favorite movies ever.  I support her as well in everything she does.  But she’s from Long Island right? Not my type of girl” We went on to inform Murph that another thing they share is Irish heritage.  “Even still, an Irish girl from Long Island is way too Jewish for me” Murph replied.

Friday nights game held a special place in my heart. Not because of the Mets stellar performance but because this was the second installment of the Mets Kid-Caster Finalist. Now I’m not trying to sound like I have some sick fetish that involves children doing the play-by-play for baseball game, I like the the competition because it is on the heels of last years winner, Kyle Singh and his unique style where I launched my Oh-Murph career.

I’m not gonna sit here and dissect the call made by this years finalist. She was an 11th grader and in all honesty to compare her and Kyle is like comparing apples and helicopters. I will however say that it was very cool that she got to do the homerun call she had told Gary, Keith and Ronnie about when she first came into the booth. My purpose today is to go to bat for Kyle because Gary Keith and Ronnie all chimed in to rip him, and no one talks about my panini loving pal like that.

If you need a reminder, Kyles signature call was the “Sandwedge” He explained that what the pitcher is trying to do is make a “Sandwedge” by getting three strikes. Each strike is another piece, the first strike is the bottom bun of the “Sandwedge” and each other strike is another piece.

After calling Angel Pagans at bat, the trio of “Sandwedge” slandering slimeballs rejoiced, almost in a great sense of relief that the young lady in the booth had not made any references to bread and lunch meats. “No hero or hoagie mentions this year” Gary said.

The nerve of them! If anything I would think they would welcome the revival of the “Sandwedge” call. Kyle Singh broke the mold when it came to stepping into the booth and doing your own thing. He used you guys. Won your contest. Went into your booth and rewrote your rules. Kyle doesn’t need you anymore, talk all you want. “Its the haters that keep me going” Kyle was quoted saying. “They don’t wanna see me succeed, but I’m still chomping on this sandwich we call life, and I ordered mine stacked higher then the Jackie Robinson Rotunda” Good attitude Kyle, take the high road.

I won’t be so kind. I say to the SNY broadcast team, don’t be so negative guys! Embrace your inner Kyle Singh, nurture the little guy, make him a “Sandwedge” if he wants. Come on Howie, we’ve all heard you say “Put it in the books” but next win, let your Singh free. Why not try “Put it in in the oven” or “Put it in the overhead compartment” Your old call is like mayo, but if you free your Singh you could be Miracle Whip.

NEW YORK – Hisanori Takahashi was riding high when he left the field with 10 strikeouts on Saturday night.  After an overly bromantic man-hug from Jerry, Takahashi settled into his usual spot on the bench.  Despite the fact that in less time then it takes to warm your Saki, the Mets bullpen had blown the lead, Takahasi was still in good spirits.  That is, until he got the parking lot.

The problems started when he got to his Honda Odyssey minivan and opened the door with the gusto of 1,000 Samurai Warriors.  Only problem is he flung that door squarely into the passenger side mirror of Angel Pagans brand new Dodge Challenger knocking it off.  Unsure of what to do next, Takahashi tried to kick the mirror away, I say tried because he accidently kicked the mirror right in the direction of Jeff Wilpon’s Rolls Royce Phantom, breaking his taillight.

Now Wilpon’s not the type of guy to drive his own Rolls, so his driver got out to see what all the commotion was about.  Takahashi has had his issues in the parking lot before, in the same way that a quarterback buys his offensive line Rolexes after a good season, Takahashi has been known to give his fellow players a can of touch up paint when they come up clutch for him when he’s on the bump.  There was no way Takahashi was sticking around to exchange insurance information with Wilpon’s driver.

Jumping into the minivan he backed up in a manner he is quite accustomed to, very quickly without using his rearview mirror.  When all was said and done, it was not Pagan or Wilpon who caught the brunt of the strikeout throwing vehicular hell raiser, it was poor David Wright.  While backing up, Takahashi smashed into Wrights new Silver Lincoln MKS taking off the bumper.

Looks like Davids going to need a new Lincoln

Amare Stoudemire decided now would be a great time to tell the world he’s Jewish!  I don’t really know care how this came to pass but let’s explore some of the benefits the newly minted Knick/Hebrew will have when he touches down from his pilgrimage to the Holy Land and returns to his new home in the Kosher Friendly confines of the Big City.
 
Amare would have had no problem getting a table at any of NYC’s finest restaurants before, but now he has opened himself up to a whole new world of salty, cholesterol laden intake with the Kosher Deli!  The deli community is abuzz and the big question is: Who will seat Amare first?  Will he go with the big name style of Bens on W38th St?  Or will he take his business to the 2nd Ave Deli?  The crowd over there is loyal and the corned beef will make you plotz!

 
On the attire front, Amare has options for wardrobe both on and off the court.  Our inside sources revealed that the Knicks are in talks with a number of Lower East Side tailors to make some alterations for their new Power Forward’s warm up gear. One team official was quoted saying:
“His warm up will include a break-away Tallit  (traditional Jewish prayer shawl)”  “We’re working with the same guy who does the uniforms for the Yeshiva Flatbush Falcons“  What could be better then a seamless transition from getting your pray on to getting your play on?
 
Amare already has the hook up for fitted caps but he is going to be very interested in getting himself in good with another type of hat merchant, The Black Hat Crew.  The Hat Warehouse in Borough Park is already taking orders on Orthodox style black hats emblazoned with Amare’s number on the side and a stylish new version is in the works swapping the traditional black for Knicks colors of Blue and Orange.
 
We couldn’t talk head gear without talking about the quintessential Jewish accessory, the yarmulke.  While it’s unclear if Amare will be wearing one while he plays, it most definitely hasn’t been ruled out.  I mean so many players wear those damned headbands and it’s basically the same thing just shaped a little different.  Also, Amare looks to break new ground on the endorsement front when he becomes the first professional athlete to promote his own line of bobby pins.
 
Amare’s Mother has been pretty silent on the whole matter but was recently overheard saying she hopes he meets a nice girl in Israel and settles down when he comes home to prepare for the upcoming season, oh and she wishes he’d call more.  While she is very pleased with the new contract he signed she can’t seem to shake the notion that the Team Doctor’s Mother really has something to brag about.

Kid opened the box and unpacked the beer glasses that the beer distributor’s rep dropped off that morning. Just in time, damn college kids coming in, ordering one beer and stealing the glass, sticking it under their sweatshirts, wise asses.

He placed them carefully in the sink, and sprayed them with the hot water until you could see the steam rising. No soap in the beer glasses, killed the head. He took a clean towel and dried them, holding each to the light to get rid of the spots.

Kid was just turning over the last glass before putting it on the shelf when Walt walked in at his customary time. “I’ll take that one, filled with Michelob, of course.”

“Walt, how’s it going?” and before Walt could answer “oh, hey, did you hear about Steinbrenner? Had the big one, checked out this morning, 80 years old.”

“Yeah, I heard” said Walt as he looked out the window. “Did I ever tell you I almost sat in his box at Yankee Stadium, the house that John Lindsay rebuilt?”

“Walt, you’re a Mets fan, what were you doing at a Yankee’s game, let alone in Steinbrenner’s seat?”

“You’re right Kid, I am a Mets fan, but I’m a baseball fan too. I had a few buddies that I worked with over in Jersey before I started here at the plant. They liked the Yankees, we’d go to the games once, twice a year.

Then I came here to work at the plant and they call me up one day. ‘Hey Walt’ they say ‘now that you’re working over in New York, think you could pick up some tickets for us?’

I didn’t really know where to get tickets, so I figured I’d go ask Carlo, the shop supervisor at the time. Friendly guy, I helped him out with a problem once, no big deal, after that he was always looking out for me. Oh, and at the time, he was also the mayor of the town he lived in.

So I say ‘Carlo, where can I get some Yankee tickets around here?’

‘You want Tickets Walt? I’ll get you tickets. Gimme a day or two.’

So this is the late ’80’s. The Yankees weren’t doing that great. But they had some interesting players, Mattingly, Winfield, Jack Clark. Can’t remember who was managing then, Dent, Pinella, not sure. Steinbrenner’s revolving door, different manager every 3 months, or less. It was kind of pathetic to watch a raging egomaniac in action.

Anyway, my phone rings the next day and it’s Carlo. ‘Walt, can you come to my office?’ I go over and there’s this guy standing there in a Yankees shirt. Now today, everybody’s got team shirts. Then – nobody had them. So Carlo says, ‘this is Sal, he works for the Yankees, tell him what you’re looking for’.

Let me tell you, this guy looked nervous as hell. Carlo must of had something on him.

I’m looking for some seats for the Yankee game next Thursday, I tell him. Right away he shoots back, ‘I can get you Mr. Steinbrenner’s box, next to the dugout, two seats’

I was semi-shocked, of course, when I blurted out, ‘but I need four tickets’

So Sal says ‘ok, ok, let me se what I can do’ I’m still not totally catching on and I say ‘how much?’ Sal, looks at me, then at Carlo, and says ‘don’t worry about it’ Carlo sitting there, smiling the whole time.

The next day Carlo walks in and hands me an envelope with four tickets. ‘Here you go Walt, enjoy the game’ and he leaves.

Kid refilled Walt’s glass “Yeah, so, where were the seats?”

“Four rows behind home plate, next to the guy with the radar gun. Best seats I ever had”

Kid shook his head. “So who was this Sal guy? What did Carlo have on him?”

Walt took a sip of his beer, “Kid, there’s just some questions that are best left unanswered. Never saw him again, never asked for tickets again. He worked for the Yankees for sure. Like I said, don’t know if he was nervous because of what Carlo had on him, or because of his fear of Boss Steinbrenner. All the stories back then was he was ruthless, fire anybody, everybody if they looked at him the wrong way. Then later on you hear how he helped this poor guy out or that one. That’s a rich guy for ya, gets up in age and figures he’s gotta start buying his way into heaven. Nice of him to bring back all those old Mets in the ’90’s though. I actually enjoyed that.”

“I guess you’re right Walt. Here’s another beer, on the house”

“Well, thanks Kid. What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, nothing. Just trying to buy back my way to heaven”

“You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You’re moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You’ve just crossed over into… the Twilight Zone.” Rod Serling, The Twilight Zone.

Witness Young Daniel Murphy, a man perplexed by a game where he has no position. A man whose body has betrayed him. A man unable to play the game he loves.

“Oh baseball Gods, Why? Why Me?” cried Young Daniel with no answer until the day it arrived.

He opened the brown cardboard box slowly, he could hear something rattling inside, it was poorly packed.

On top of a few crumpled newspapers, he saw a folded note.

Dear Murph,

Hey son, I’m sorry about everything that happened this year. You know, I really was goin’ to have you be my first baseman this year, even though you were hittin’ like .186 down in Florida. Yeah, we sent Ike back down then even though he had about 6 homers.

Then you hurt your knee. Dang, and I was goin’ to take you out the inning before.

Oh well, when you got better, I was goin’ to play you at second what with Luis runnin’ around like a one legged Chicken. Then you hurt your knee, again. You might of seen we called up Tejada and he’s doin’ pretty good.

Well I did hear that Dillion Gee tried to stick one in the ear of that fool that took you out on that slide. Too bad, son, too bad.

Hey, was cleaning out the basement and I found this, thought you could use it. Razor reloaded it for you, just add water and fire.  Enjoy son, it’ll make the time pass until you’re ready to try another position. We could use some more relief pitchers, I think I might have blown Nieve out.

Peace,

Jerry

Young Daniel pulled the contraption from the box. An assembly of pipes and tubes and a bowl or jar of some sort. “Oh! Wait, I’ve seen this on an episode of the Amazing Race when they were in India” thought Daniel. “It’s a water pipe. Jerry wants me to smoke? Well, I heard it’s relaxing, I guess I could try it once”

“Funny lookin’ tobacco” thought Daniel as he unrolled the plastic bag at the bottom of the box.

Daniel started to smoke and cough and then relax. Relax, like never before. He thought, “I can hardly remember that my knee hurts” then he stood up and tried to run a few steps and collapsed in a heap.

“Why, Baseball Gods, why?”

Suddenly a vision appeared, not quite human, not quite baseball, it’s, it’s Mr. Met!

“Mr. Met, what are you doing here?”

“Daniel, I’m not Mr. Met, I’m the baseball God” said the orb headed vision.

“Baseball God, you’re the Baseball God? why did you never answer me?”

“Ah, but I DID answer you. Last year you asked ‘why us Baseball God, why is everybody on the team hurt? I did it for you, Daniel, so you could play”

“But why did you do this to me this year?” asked Daniel.

“What, you think you’re the only one who prays to the Baseball God? Please, give me a break. At least your team is happy. Hey, did you see what I arranged for Utley? Nice, Huh? Muhahahahahaha!!!”

Young Daniel fell asleep, in another dimension.

Alfio and Vinny  sat at the bar and the Mets game just started. Kid at the bar expected a good crowd both because the Mets were winning a little now and the plant across the street was shutting down an hour early. Kid got the Pledge out and gave the bar a good once over, the top twice, so nobody’s arm would get stuck in any beer dregs there.

Alfio and Vinny usually only came on the days when the plant shut down early. They didn’t tell the wives, thought they were getting away with something. Sneak over to Murph’s, catch a few innings of the Mets, drink a little Michelob, maybe a shot of Bushmills if they had a little overtime pay.

They were plant guys, worked just hard enough on the same jobs they had forever. Experts of a sort, knew things that they would show others if they had to, if they liked you. Vinny was kind of quiet, smoked about two Marlboro Cigarettes an hour, bad nerves though. Got upset too much these days, needed a little Valium once in awhile to take the edge off.

Alfio was a wacko, no other way to say it. Had the black and gray hair parted close to the ear on the side combed over the bald top. Sometimes he would be working something on the bench and tilt his head over to get a better view, and that hair flap would lift right off his head. Vinny called him the Alfio patch kid then, like the dolls.

Alfio would say anything to crack himself up, he’d laugh like a hyena. Loved to make fun of the guys in the office that used to come out to tell him how to do his job. His favorite target these days was Lenny. “Lenny, you walk like a fricken’ Marionette, fagodssakes! Like a 90 year old woman!”

Kid put two more beers down in front of them after the bottom of the first, Reyes double, the kid Davis with a two out single getting him in. Burkhardt interviewing Mets top draft pick in the stands that night. The bar door opened and in walked Lenny.

Lenny saw Alfio there, and Alfio saw him. Naturally Lenny wanted to turn around and leave, but he thought that would make it worse for him in the long run. Alfio, was already starting to giggle, so Lenny did the right thing and sent two more beers over to Alfio and Vinny.

That calmed them down for awhile, got them off his back. Lenny’s wife, she just left. He came home from work one day with good news; he just got promoted. All those extra hours were finally paying off. He wanted to tell her, take her out to dinner. Instead he came home and found the note. I’m not coming back, it said. Don’t try to call me. It’s over. All he had left from her was the watch.

She gave him that Movado, the one he liked so much from Macy’s, for his 25th birthday.  He wore it all the time then, when they were happy. Now he couldn’t check the time anymore without getting his guts in a knot.

Vinny had a soft spot for Lenny, although he would usually laugh his ass off at Alfio’s Lenny jokes. He appreciated the beer, and thought maybe he could get Lenny to buy a few more. “Hey Lenny, you know any Lennys that played for the Mets?”

“Yeah, Dykstra, of course” Lenny replied.

“Sure that’s what he’s gonna say, always think about the winners” Alfio answered, “I bet you never heard of Lenny Randle, did ya?

“No, who’s Lenny Randle?”

“Gotta know your Mets history. Lenny Randle played for the Texas Rangers, actually I think he was on the Washington Senators before they moved to Texas. He punched out his manager there, Frank Luchesse, gumba used to manage the Phillies. Then got traded to the Mets.

Don’t remember if the story ever came out why he punched him, Luchesse ended up suing Randle over it, fractured his cheekbone or something. Anyway, he was on the Mets during the Torre years, late ’70’s. Had a good year or two, then wore out his welcome, Mets cut him in spring training one year. Then bounced around, remember seeing one time he was playing third and tried to blow a roller foul, got down on his hands and knees and starts blowing on the ball, funniest scene ever.
But that’s baseball. Get a guy on the team that’s maybe got a little flair to him, does well, then maybe rubs other’s the wrong way, they get rid of him. Cut they’re losses and move on. Forget the past. Mets will probably eat Ollie’s salary soon enough and do the same thing.”

Lenny, got up, finished his beer, went to the bar and asked Kid to give Vinny a Bushmills. Alfio, turned and looked and said “hey, what about me, fricken’ Marionette?”

Lenny, unhinged the alligator wristband on the Movado and handed it to Alfio, “here, this is for you.”

He turned and left just before Big Pelf got another double play ball to end the inning.

So the other day after Murph’s diagnosis Kid forwards me the following email: 
 
“Hey guys,
 
I love your website.  It had me laughing so many times last year, a year in which there was very little to laugh about — when it came to Mets baseball anyway.  So thanks for your sardonic wit and amusing posts.  I am a huge Murphy fan, and today, I’m devastated for him.  That clip they showed on SNY was heartbreaking.  Just wondering how you guys were taking the news because — truthfully, I don’t know anyone else who might care.
 
Thanks!
 
Erin”
 
First Erin, thanks for writing to us and expressing your concern for us. I must admit that I had to look up the definition of sardonic (Kid told me it had something to do with Sardines, he was wrong). You seemed to be the only one who cared until I started to think about it and remembered that someone once told me that if one person writes about it there are a hundred people who thought about writing about it and another hundred who thought about it but didn’t know how to write and so on.
 
Anyway we were devastated about the Murph news. Here we were getting all these great reports on how he was hitting and getting to try new positions, and with Castillo looking a little like Fred Sanford we thought, hey maybe Murph comes back and plays second and it’s a great story.
 
Not to be. We keep the vigil hoping for Murph to make a full recovery.
 
As for us, it’s another story.
 
I was severely affected with a bad case of writer’s block and was unable to write more than 140 characters at one time.
 
Kid Carter joined a gym, lost 31 pounds and became an aerobics instructor.
 
Osse Jurosco joined the Peace Corp and is currently in Zimbabwe ministering to the sick and infirmed. He handles special cases of knee injuries, such as the one’s Murph endured.
 
Niles Standish joined the Merchant Marines and took passage on a ship to New Zealand. Kid waits by the shore for hours looking for a message in a bottle.
 
Rhianna Church left several weeks ago to assist in cleaning the waterfowl of the gulf. She wrote recently to say she bathed over 80 Pelicans so far.
 
So here I am by myself again in the middle of the season still believing that others will pick up the slack.
 
I really got nothing more than that.
 
Oh, hey, did you see this picture of Rex Ryan throwing out the first pitch?

Did they put the lap band around his colon?