Bay Area Blues

Come on.  You said I can't watch the game OR listen to it.  But I've had enough...we get blanked the first two games against the Giants...we gotta get em back!  Let me at least check the score.

Now, Tommy...you're making good progress.  Feel free to watch other channels.  Look - here on TCM is Frank Sinatra in "The Detective."  That sounds good.  Once the game is--

Listen, Doc...I'm sitting here in my own home.  I've had your bag of unsalted potato chips.  Made me eat this eggplant and only a half order of pasta.  I could barely taste the Parmesan.  First you call that a lunch, now this?  I shoulda gone shopping with my wife.  I could use a new belt.

Tommy, I just have to stay here until the game is over.  Well, it...wait, now, Tommy, I was to hold the remote until--

And the Giants win...they SWEEP the Dodgers, who fail to score a single run in 3 games. 

(Throws bag of trail mix at the television)

For the Dodgers, this is a road trip they'd love to forget.  0-6 here in the Bay Area and--

Easy now, Mr. Lasorda.  Let me get the stress toy, and we can--

Either you get me a plate of spaghetti and meatballs in the next 10 minutes, or...I'm having Donny Yankees fired.  FIRED.  FIRED.  HE'S SABOTAGING THIS TEAM.  AND ANOTHER THING.  IF YOU GIVE ME ANOTHER PLATE OF DRIED FRUIT, I'M...(gets up quickly, and closes bathroom door)  SONUVABITCH.

Don't Tell Tommy!

(Dodger Legend Tommy Lasorda was speaking at the Pasadena Art Fest about youth sports when urgent messages went between his handlers)

Rick: Uh oh...look at this text.  
Tina: 4-1?  We lost?
Rick: Yes, we lost all games against the Athletics.
Tina: Well, Tommy can't find out about this.  Remember, the doc said--
Rick: I know, I know.  But he wanted to hear the final score.
Tina: Tell him there's a rain out.
Rick: OK, but we'd better hurry, he's taking questions.  Oh no!

Reporter: Mr. Lasorda, any thoughts on the Dodgers anemic performance in Oakland?  In 3 losses, only 2 runs, and--

You mean to tell me that horseshit team SWEPT US?!  TWO GODDAMN RUNS?!  Where are those two...Rick and Tia?  Why the hell couldn't YOU TELL ME THIS?  I need to start making calls P-R-O-N-T-O. 

Reporter: Tommy, I didn't mean-

We got my protege this weekend...if we're comin' in like that...that's a nice fuckin' start to the weekend.

Tina: Tommy, remember your blood pressure.

Fine.  I won't get up.  Somebody GET ME one of my award winning wines.  I'll put Donny Yankees on speaker just so everyone here can listen.

(Mr. Lasorda was then told he would be "more comfortable" backstage)

When you open your eyes, what do you see?

I'd like to thank 30fps.mocksession.com for this screen grab of Jerry Meals at it again:

(You'll need to click open this photo)

You see an out to right field, and, through the magic of television, Matt Treanor (husband of Misty May) tagging up at 3rd.  Jerry Meals is looking at...I don't know what, maybe right field, but NOT Treanor.

On appeal (or what looked like a 2nd appeal) Meals called Treanor out for not tagging up.  Now, Jerry is no stranger to his own horseshit calls.  It's not an MLB umpire's job to get it right, remember (because there is no fiscal or employment consequence when they get it wrong).  But what happened next is the very embodiment of why MLB umpires are now neck and neck with NBA refs as the worst at their profession:

Donny Mustache rightfully comes out to remind Meals that he's a clueless oaf, but Meals denies this and, according to Donny, said he (Meals) was "100% right." 

Up yours, Jerry, and may you also take that bullshit attitude and shove it where you keep your car keys.

100% wrong is what this looks like to me.  And there would be no reason to heap this scorn on Meals if he didn't act like such a fucking know-nothing to a stadium full of people.

Donny's block quote:

"(Meals) was lined up, but he wasn't even watching. I saw the video, and his head was looking in the outfield," Mattingly said. "That's what's irritating. When they tell you they got it 100% right, it's hard to buy it when it costs you a run."


Thankfully, we know what Bud will do: nothing for Jerry, and suspend Donny Mustache.  Just another day.

Reports of My Demise Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

(Baseball legend Tommy Lasorda was admitted to a hospital this week for a mild heart attack.  He was fully released this morning, and was invited to speak at a minor league ballpark this morning before joining the team in Seattle this weekend)

Ah...all right.  Doc said I gotta take it slow this week because even though everything checked out, I'm not supposed to push it.  I do need to keep the blood flowing, so if I could get a glass of water...

Folks, I don't want to put any of this on myself.  Baseball is a team game, and always will be.  The Dodgers arrived in Philly and everyone said we're in a funk.  Best record in the majors and we're in a funk?!  Shows what those windbag writers know.  I was gonna right the ship in this town real quick...and I think you know what that means...it means cheese-steak contest.  I hit all the local haunts.  Did Provolone instead of that other stuff, onions, peppers.  So, I'm taking bites of each and trying to take notes when I saw some girl looking at me funny.  You can never tell with these people in Philly.  Remember what I always said about Philadelphia: it's a family town.  Where else would you see 15 year old girls with babies?!  Haha!

(Yawn)  Oh man...trying not to get worked up.  Well, I should have been focused but then I wondered if I had chosen an establishment that wouldn't meet my standards.  Did this tour rep purposely give me a bad cheese-steak to take me down?  

Next thing I know I'm in a room, with doctors talking to each other.  I can't make heads or tails of what's going on, and no one's listening to me, so I ask "What the fuck is going on?"  Finally I hear that I had a mild heart attack.  Actually, folks, that was good news to me.  It wasn't food poisoning or anything like that.  The doctors reported all was fixed and, yes, I bleed Dodger Blue.  Only problem I had was when I had Wallach set up an IV of one of my award winning wines, and some nurse caught him putting in another bottle.

Thursday afternoon, I get a call from Lopes.  Says that the doctors weren't withholding information from me - they were just pissed off we swept the Phillies!  4 games in a row - how about that, you moron sportswriters!  You think we're...

(cough)  Right, right.  Calming down.  I didn't even get to have lobster at Bookbinder's.  All right, off to Seattle.  I see linguini and clams in my future.  Huh?  Oh, right.  Baseball is a wonderful game at any level, and I'm glad I'm here!

(crowd applauds)