Uh, hey this is Jerry Zabinksi writing while on break over at the job site. I’m no baseball whizz, just your average working class stiff, Ya know?
Wanted to give a big shout out to my beloved Chicago White Sox and my boys Rick Hahn and Kenny Williams for their tireless efforts to keep my seats in the outfield free from any other fans. I got plenty of arm room, and most of the time I can even put my feet up.
I mean, I anticipated seeing Eloy Jimenez running around like a madman, but I’m bought in, I’m trusting the process. And why not? I mean, I got the hot dog guy all to myself, and you know how many beers I can fit all around me?
I like that Palka guy, though. He’s got a hot bat on em’. I don’t mind seeing him run around, but this ain’t exactly the grand rebuild we were promised, is it? Shit, I just smudged nacho cheese on my screen.
I love not having baseball neighbors. Once, I called my mom from the entire fourth inning because it got a little boring watching the guy they out there now run around, chasing all them balls. Poor guy probably pulled his ass muscle at least twice, because lemme tell ya, pal, that guy Shields on the mound was giving up some dingers.
Them brains in the boardrooms think they got all the answers. They don’t know what it’s like to pee while holding a beer. That’s how you get some real baseball wisdom. They say Jimenez has a “checklist” in order to come up and play. They clearly ain’t married, because a checklist don’t mean nothin’ but getting yelled at by the missus.
I ain’t painting my garage, and it’s been on my Honey-Do list for about nine months. Paint cans are sitting in my garage collecting dust, kinda like Jimenez and Kopech.
I mean, I ain’t exactly ready to chase any homers myself, either. I know the guy can swing for the fences, which is cool, but I got hot dogs to eat.
I’ll hang up and listen to your comments.