Wednesday, June 06, 2007

A Cell Phone Rings at McAfee Coliseum

(looks at phone) I don't recognize this number. (answers) Hello?


Hel-loooo, is anyone there?

(whispering) You worthless, ungrateful lout. I can't believe you did this to me...

What? Hey, who is this?

Shut up, punk. I'm doing the talking here. I can't believe I rearranged my life just to watch you pitch, and for what, to see my team be humiliated...

Hey lady, I don't know what you want or even who you are...

You don't know who I am? YOU DON'T KNOW WHO I AM??? I'll tell you who I am. I'm the one who went to bed at 7:00 last night just so I could get up and watch you make your stupid little start in the middle of the night. If I had known how badly you'd screw it up, I wouldn't have gone through the trouble.

Screw it up? I was great!

Sure you were, Mr. Big Shot, and that's the problem. The Red Sox rescued you from the Mets' Rule 5 scrap heap, gave you a chance to pitch when you sucked wind, even gave you a World Series ring, and what thanks do they get? You shut them out for seven innings. You should be ashamed of yourself. I swear, I oughtta...

Wait a minute...your voice sounds familiar. Who is this? Do I know you?

Oh, how soon they forget. Maybe this rings a bell. "Do me, Lenny" (clap, clap, clap clap clap)...

That's it! I knew I recognized your voice from somewhere. Hey, I thought you liked me!

"Liked" being the operative word, douchebag. Past tense. You had your chance and you blew it. If you can't show a little more loyalty, I'm banishing you forever from my erotic fantasies. (click)

(staring at the phone) Man, that was scary. What a psycho.