Showing posts with label spit personality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spit personality. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

The Spittin' Image of Baseball


I have watched more baseball during the last month than I have in the past ten years. Our home team, The Tampa Bay Rays, went from worst team in the 2007 season to first place in the 2008 season! They are playing the 4th game of the American League Championship Series against the Boston Red Sox. The Rays are leading in the 7th inning 11 -1 as I type this.
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Let me also say I have seen more spitting in the last month than I have in the last 10 years as well. Spit spit spit. Every time the camera hits on a player, any player, he is either in the process of spitting, or loads up a complimentary spit just for the fans at home. The bull pen must be knee deep in it. The guys sit in there and spit. Sometimes, if the camera hits them at the perfect moment in time each guy will spit in turn starting on the left and all the way down the line to the right. It's like Riverdance - but with spitting!
The camera moves to the pitchers mound (spit), moves to the coach (spit spit) catches an outfielder (spiiiitttttt) the man on base (sssspittt) the pitcher spits and winds up. The catcher may or may not spit - he's wearing a mask - it's hard to tell, but my best guess? spit. They at least don't appear to be using tobacco any longer. They spit toothpicks, pistachio shells, gater aid, water, spit, spittle and spit.
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I know where it starts:




And I know where it's perfected:
And I know that if I watch a game of 9 innings the score will be something like 9 (and 6,986 spits) to 3 (and 5,892 spits) Don't their mother's call them in the dugout???? I would!
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Rrrringgg:
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Coach: Yeah?
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Caller: This is Evan Longoria's mom, Lavinia Longoria. Lemme talk to him right this minit!!
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Coach: (spit) Evan? (spit spit) he's on 2nd base Lavinia, I can't bring (spit) him to the phone right this minute, ma'am (spit)
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Lavinia: I'll just wait - and don't put that damn music on hold on or I'm commin' down there.
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Coach: What's the problem with the (spit) music?
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Lavinia: It's Tiny Bubbles. I hate that song. Reminds me of spitting.
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Coach (spit) He's on camera right now, can you see him on your TV?
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(Camera is on Evan, he smiles and spits twice. One toothpick and both half shells of a pistachio)
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Lavinia: G-r-r-r-r I want you to go right over there and tell him his mother and his Granny Laurel are sitting here watching him spit on national television. You tell him if he doesn't stop that right this minute I am going to give him the biggest time out of his ever lovin' life.
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Coach: Time out? (spit) They don't have baseball time outs, ma'am. Hockey has time outs. (spit)
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Lavinia: Well you just tell him
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Coach: (spit)
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Lavinia: I just saw you spit on camera, mister! Fine example you are to those young men.
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Coach: (spit)
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Lavinia: I am just spittin' mad. If you weren't winning the series I'd come down there to Wrigley Stadium and give you a piece of my mind!
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Coach: Fenway. We're at Fenway, ma'am
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Lavinia: (spit)