Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts

Sunday, June 28, 2009

The Two-Ton Team: My Dream Team of "Hefty Players"

A couple of years ago, while hosting a remote for the Georgia Spring Football Game at the UGA Bookstore with the local sports radio station 960 The Ref, I was invited to be on the air for a few minutes.  Rather than slink low enough to talk about the Bulldogs, I presented to them my 2007 Major League Baseball "All Fat Guy Team." Of course the roster had Prince Fielder, David Weathers, Matt Stairs and other portly inspirations.  I tried to come up with a team that would win games as opposed to just out-eat its opponents, so there was some focus on quality.

Yesterday, Haley and I went to Camden Yards to watch the Baltimore Orioles host the Washington Nationals.  

Yeah, I realize that driving 3 hours to see two last place teams duke it out might seem like a wasteful time, but I love baseball and Camden Yards is one of the 3 or 4 best places to enjoy a baseball game.  While leaving, I saw a picture of a 30-something Eddie Murray, a long-time Oriole great, looking a bit thick in the middle.  After making the comment, "that guy was awesome, but look how chubby he was," it got me thinking about fat baseball players.

So what I have decided to do is come up with a Dream Team of "Hefty Players."  I've set myself a few rules; after all, a world without rules could get out of control.  I am going to come up with a 25 man roster, made up of 15 position players and 10 pitchers.  All of these players had to play in the "Jeremy era," which means 1989-2009 (the years I watched a lot of baseball).  I am going for both performance and weight - I want the fattest and most capable baseball players. 

Outfielders:

Center Field:  This is usually the position in the outfield that requires speed, agility, athleticism.  By the very nature of this team, that's a tough draw, but it just so happens that we have a Hall of Fame member to play center field - Kirby Puckett.

Puckett, roughly five feet tall, was the motor behind the 1991 World Series Champion Minnesota Twins (they beat the up-and-coming Braves, who were one season away from breaking my heart and stealing Greg Maddux from the Cubs).  After that, he lost vision in one eye, gained another 200 pounds, punched and imprisoned a woman, and was rumored to have performed lewd public acts, to include public masturbation.  Kirby passed away at the age of 45, but we are glad to have him on our team.


Left Field:  Every team needs a few "good character" guys, especially when you  have Puckett dragging women into the bathroom and groping them, and the game has never had a nicer dude than Tony Gwynn.

In spite of being built like a shop teacher, Tony slapped enough hits to also become a Hall of Famer.  Gwynn ended his career with more than 3,100 hits, played in the All-Star game 15 times, and led the league in hitting 8 times.  Gwynn was the true definition of "professional" and I have nothing bad to say about him.  He did, however, put on a few more pounds since his playing days.




Right Field:  Dmitri Young is another one of those "troubled soul" kind of players, having battled alcoholism, weight problems that led to diabetes, and he may have assaulted a lady or two.  To his credit, Dmitri seems to have gotten his life back on track and came back to win the 2007 Comeback Player of the Year Award w/ The Nationals.  I like his .292 career average, nearly .400 OBP, and great head of hair.




Other Outfielders:
Matt Stairs

John Kruk
Andruw Jones


Third Base:  This requires a bit of a position change.  Due to weight gain (on THIS team???), Miguel Cabrera has recently been switched to First Base for the Detroit Tigers.  Cabrera was the 2003 Rookie of the Year and would provide this group of lard-asses some much needed youth, versatility, and a would probably update the snack collection in the clubhouse.  He practices Santeria, which confirms that he is not the subject of Sublime's song "What I Got."


I have Miguel being backed up by Braves "great" Ken Oberkfell (the infield is going to be tough to fill).  Oberkfell personifies the worst era of Braves baseball (mid to late 1980's)...well, him and Rick Mahler...and Zane Smith....and Ozzie Virgil.



First Base/DH:  Oh my, what a competitive position first base and DH is on this particular team.. Let's face it, teams like to stick their fat guys at First Base.  They did it in "Major League 3: Back to the Minors," and they do it in real life.  I considered Andres Gallaraga, Moe Vaughn, David Ortiz...oh man are DH and 1B great places to stick those guys.  Instead,  I have chosen to keep it "all in the family" and use Cecil and Prince Fielder as my First Basemen.  I cannot even imagine how much food needs to be around at a Fielder family reunion.  Luckily for the local supermarket cashiers, the two do not seem to get along that well.

Prince claims to be a vegetarian.  Uh...yeah.



Hard to believe that Cecil once hit more than 50 home runs in a season.  Oh how I miss the pre-steroid days...



And for Designated Hitter, I'm gonna go with Steve Balboni.  I think that this guy rotated my tires a couple of weeks ago.  There are certainly better players than "Bye Bye" Balboni; after all, his career .229 average is not going to set the world on fire, but the Fielder family would get most of the DH at-bats and after all, someone has to drive the bus to the airport.



Catcher: In the movies, like Sandlot and The Bad News Bears, the fat kid is stuck at catcher.  I always find that to be ridiculous, because Catcher seems like a tough gig - lots of squatting, standing, tons of equipment.  Well, no worries, I had plenty of "big boned" athletes to choose from.  I could have gone with "Pudge" Rodriguez, but his shape doesn't completely back up the promise of his name.  Each team needs two catchers, so I'm gonna go with:

Mike Lavalliere.  No, he never really put up huge numbers (only 18 home runs in 12 years), but his nickname was "Spanky."  This team needs a guy named Spanky.  Plus, his middle name is Eugene.

My 2nd string catcher also failed to put up great numbers, but look at this guy.  Ladies and gentlemen, one of my all-time favorite Cubs, Hector Villanueva.  Hector only played a few years (somehow, this 260+ lb dude stole a base!), but Cubs fans loved him and our Tubby Team likes the addition of another mustache.  A great memory I have of Hector was Harry Caray, drunk off his ass by the 7th inning, unable pronounce his name.  It came out like "ville-na-yuasha." I miss Harry, I seriously miss Harry.



Middle Infielders: This was my toughest position to fill.  After all, middle infielders tend to be the smallest guys on the field.  We can get some games out of Oberkfell (yikes) and Cabrera should there be any injuries (what, a team of fat guys getting hurt), but I had to settle a bit in the infield.

Jose Vidro has been a decent player and as he has aged, tended to DH.  But, we need a 2nd baseman and he's hit the buffet more than most of them, so he gets the job.  I like his career .298 batting average.


How Christian Guzman still plays in the infield is beyond me, but tubs is still at it and still hitting better than .300.


Starting Pitchers

Sidney Ponson

David Wells

Livan Hernandez

C.C. Sabathia

Bartolo Colon
Actually, I've got the makings of a pretty good rotation, with several 20 game-winning seasons, a Cy Young award, and plenty of body fat.  I would hate to be a Ci-Ci's Pizza if these guys came in.  But, I like my rotation.


Relief Pitchers

We have the makings of a very strong bullpen - a dead guy, a guy with six fingers, a pink goatee, and a burning appetite for a case of Twinkies.

Rod Beck
Rod is one of my all-time favorite Cubs, a huge part of their late-90's success (man I loved the team with Sosa, Morandini, Wood, Beck), but Rod was a troubled man who passed away a few years ago.  I remember fondly the year he tried out for the Cubs, was sent to AAA Iowa and lived in a Winnebago.  Every team could use a guy like that, especially a team of fat dudes.  R.I.P Shooter, you were The Shit.


Rich Garces "El Guapo"

Bobby Jenks
"Because every team needs a pink goatee"

Antonio Alfonseca
This guy actually has six fingers on each hand.  Only in baseball.


Eddie Guardado
"Steady Eddie" pitched for like 100 years and we need a lefty.

So there you have it, my "Two-Ton" team.  What we lack in speed we make up in heart (attacks).  We have a good rotation, a solid bullpen, weak infield (except first and third), and some dead guys.  I'd say 95 wins - easily.  












Zooperstars - "This is America!"  It sure is.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Truckers For Jesus


This past week, on my way home from beautiful Ferrum, Virginia (near Ferrum, it's an absolute crazy drive along the Crooked Road), I had to make a necessary stop at "a little boys room" in a Travel Center near Staunton on I-64.

After finishing my business and buying some Giant Chewy Sweet Tarts, I headed for the door, a pound or two lighter and whistling a happy "almost home" song.  On my way out, I noticed a box filled with cassette tapes and labeled "free."  In spite of not owning a cassette player, I rummaged through the offerings to see what "free" bought you these days.  Here is what I came away with:


Apparently, eternal salvation can be found not only at a truck stop, but for free.  

Now if I only had a cassette player.....


Billy Drago needs to listen to those cassettes











Saturday, May 30, 2009

$24 for the 28th President


In spite of a long week of work-related travel, Haley and I took a road trip this weekend and headed over to Blacksburg, VA.  To be honest, there was a purpose to our adventure: the world's worst traveler, yours truly, had left his luggage at a hotel near Blacksburg on Thursday, so I had to go back to retrieve it.  Yes, this was a pain in the ass, but in the spirit of "making lemonade out of lemons," we agreed to make the best of my mistake.

On Friday, we ate at a pizza place in Blacksburg called "Backstreets," which I was disappointed to find out was in no way related to the Bruce Springsteen song.  Nothing to see here, sir, move along.  The food was mediocre.

Not sure why, but Superman was in a phone booth in front of our hotel in Christiansburg.


On Saturday morning, we shopped at a local Farmer's Market in Blacksburg.  This did not disappoint, as we came away with some good stuff to include strawberries, cherries, apples, rhubarb, butter lettuce, asparagus, radishes, garlic scapes, and oregano.  This pretty much guarantees that Haley is going to cook some sweet eats this week.   The $20 investment should pay solid dividends.  We then stopped by the Tech Bookstore (work never ends) and after that headed home.

The drive from Blacksburg to West Point was a little over four hours, so we stopped about half-way to grab some lunch.  Not being in a hurry, we stopped in Staunton, VA to see if there was any local places to grab a bite to eat (this was after we made it all the way up to a McDonald's drive-through before coming to our senses).  Staunton is a nice little mountain town, with an interesting historic district that includes Mary Baldwin College, the Frontier Culture Museum, a Shakespeare Playhouse, and the Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library.

Much like moths to the the flame, we parked the car and walked straight to the Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library and Museum.  I have never been to a Presidential Library, and being a History buff, this seemed like a good opportunity to experience something cool. Recently, there has been a lot of talk surrounding Presidential Libraries, to include the news that George W. Bush had raised more than $100 million for his museum (hey, don't blame me, I voted for Nader and then Kerry).


From the outside, it seemed really nice.  As we originally drove by, we saw a marble bust of the Progressive Era President in the window of a beautiful old house with perfectly manicured landscaping (and some adjacent historical-looking buildings).  We strolled up some stairs and entered the Gift Shop, which is where you start the Woodrow Wilson experience.  After paying $12 each (more than we spent at the Farmer's Market), we proceeded to the museum and subsequent tour.  I thought, "this shit had better be good for $24."  But. hey, it takes $100 million dollars to build one of these things, right?

We started by looking at his Presidential limousine (keep in mind this dude was President in the 1910's, so a car is a big deal). I have to admit, old Woodrow had a sweet ride.


We started to look around the museum, and the suspicions began to set in.  Maybe it was the foam-core board with copy paper placards next to some of the exhibits.  Or maybe it was these sweet listening stations (any idea where the theatre and/or animatronic wax Woodrow might be?).

Our mounting disappointment was interrupted by an announcement that the tour of President Wilson's "birth home" was about to begin.  Sweet, this should be good, right?  Well, come to find out, Wilson only lived in the house the first year of his life so he did not exactly leave his mark on the place.  I can barely remember any of the tour except the plastic bacon and eggs on the table in the children's dining room.  

We blazed through the slave quarters in record time, with only a brief mention that the slaves were not owned by the Wilsons, but that they came with the home, as it was a Presbyterian Manse (Woodrow's father was a minister, who by-the-way, the year after Woodrow was born moved to Augusta where he vehemently defended The Confederacy and slavery).

Somewhere around this time, I whispered to Haley, "have you ever just wanted to run?"  She answered "Run through the museum?"  No dear, "make a run for it.  You know, run away as fast as you can."  But, being the Presidential scholars that we are, we braved on and back into the museum we went.  Overall, I was pretty shocked at how amateur the whole thing was.  The marble bust?That was just plaster that was dirtied with a nice long red streak on its side.

We did learn about the start of WWI, women's suffrage, Wilson's racist leanings ("Progressive" eh?), mustard gas, labor laws, 1910's politics, and Wilson's 14 Points.  


During the 2008 elections, we heard a lot about Clinton Library donations and as I already mentioned, George W. Bush has raised more than $100 million for his.  I would have liked to judge the Woodrow Wilson Library for its books, but that part is blocked off and only available to research scholars through appointment (apparently, they were unaware that I am The Kid.) 

The Woodrow Wilson Library and Museum needs some serious cash.  Considering he is considered a major President (he isn't exactly Lincoln, but he ain't John Tyler either), can they not come up with something interesting for this place?  Maybe a theatre or some robotic WWI soldiers?  Maybe a roller-coaster with mini Presidential limousines? Real bacon and eggs? Could his birth bed shake like the one in "The Exorcist?"


But all was not lost.  I did receive an invitation to the 1912 Democratic National Convention.  I think that I might be a little late.  Then again, I do plan on voting for Eugene Debs anyway.....


Also, I invented something today.  I call it "pickle on a potato chip."





Friday, May 22, 2009

Good Pho in Williamsburg: Chez Trinh


One of my favorite foods in the world: a hot bowl of Pho.  Yum.  I haven't been partaking in this deliciousness very long, having first tried it at a place called "Just Pho" in Athens, GA less than a year ago.  I would pretty much drag Haley or co-workers to Just Pho once or twice a week.  

Since moving to Virginia, I have tried a couple of Vietnamese restaurants, tying to replace one of my favorite places to eat.  Unfortunately, after 3 attempts (2 in Richmond and one in Charlottesville), I was left thinking that maybe I was doomed to give-up one of my favorite foods.  I cannot confirm it, but I am fairly certain that the place in Charlottesville served me slices of Oprah's ass cheeks floating in toilet water.

Finally, all of my searching has been rewarded.  Being a "holiday Friday" as well as pay-day, Haley and I decided go out to eat tonight, which of course means leaving West Point (unless we want Hardee's or the local Scottish restaurant McDonald's).  I used the information superhighway to find that nearby Williamsburg had a decently reviewed Vietnamese place called Chez Trinh.

I am not a "foodie," I'll leave that to my better half, so I will let the pictures tell the story.  It's a good story, one that I call "Happy Belly."  I liked it so much, that I was overheard proclaiming "pho would have been the one good thing about being in the Vietnam War."  Nice.

Beef Pho


Pepper Lime Beef


Rice Paper Roll With Garlic Pork


I am going to feel this stuff in the morning


William Forsythe


Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Bruce Springsteen: Hershey Park, PA 5/15/09


To truly know and understand Kidjite, you must know Bruce Springsteen.  To say that Bruce is my favorite artist is like saying that oxygen is what I like to breathe.  When I did a DNA test a while back, they found that I had the "E Street Chromosome."  For the 2nd time on the "Working On A Dream" tour, I saw Bruce Springsteen live, this time in Hershey Park, PA, "the land of candy."

There is one person on Earth that I know for a fact understands what Bruce means to me, and that is my big brother, David.  David and I have been to a bunch of Bruce shows over the years, beginning with a pilgrimage to Miami in 1985 for the "Born in the USA" tour.  For more than two decades, The Brothers Johnson have congregated for a rock and roll baptism led by the house-rocking, pants-dropping, brain-shocking, earth-quaking, booty-shaking, Viagra-taking, lovemaking, sexifying, electrifying E Street Band! So, it is only fitting that I attended this show with David.


  (David outside Charlottesville show)

Almost immediately upon arrival, it was obvious that this was not going to be an ordinary Springsteen show.  First of all, the setting was remarkable, almost surreal.  Getting to Hershey Park around 5:30 meant that while Bruce disciples were just starting to get antsy with anticipation, the adjacent amusement park was winding down for the day.  Balding, pudgy, young-at-heart fanatics heading one way and exhausted families toting leftover cotton candy and queezy stomachs slinking the other.  The show was, of course, sold out, which meant that a crowd of 30,000+ would be on-hand to see the first outdoor concert of the tour.


(see how excited I was?)

Hershey Park Stadium is an odd place, built in the 1950's and serves mostly as a high-school football stadium.  The facility itself is uh....shitty....with horrible bathrooms, narrow entrances, and only bleachers in the stands and folding chairs on the field.  But as Bruce proclaimed during the middle of "Working On A Dream," their mission was to "take desperate times and build them into a house of love...use the bad news and make it good news," so as soon as the house lights went off and the band walked on stage to chants of "Bruuuuuuce," that facility was incidental.

Tonight was Jay Weinberg's 2nd full show as the E Street drummer and just like his Dad, he brought the thunder.  In fact, the 18 year old (who bears a striking resemblance to Animal from Sesame Street) brought a level of energy and enthusiasm that you could tell even Bruce appreciated.  Jay's performance was impressive and provided yet another "sideshow" in this carnival of rock.  Patty was once again absent (cheers from some) from the band, but the addition of two background singers more than cover for her.  Clarence, sometimes sitting in a throne off to the side, was his usual awesome, especially during his whistling solo.

Bruce and the band played for nearly 3 hours and 27 songs, starting with the stadium anthem "Badlands" and finishing with a heartfelt "Bobby Jean."  Highlights included "Twist and Shout" (crowd request), "Trapped", "Rosalita," "Thunder Road", and of course "Born to Run."  As is becoming a live staple, Nils Lofgren wowed the crowd with a strong guitar solo during "The Ghost of Tom Joad," spinning, twisting, and squeezing every ounce of rock from his guitar.  Several times I felt that spine tingling, nearly tearful wave of emotion that I only feel with Bruce on stage and my brother nearby.  Two moments that get me every time: when "Thunder Road" breaks into the line "what else can we do now, except roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair" and the anticipatory pause in "Born to Run" before Bruce screams "the highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power-drive."  

It's hard to believe that Bruce is nearly 60 years old.  His energy would shame the youngest of rock bands.  Shit, its hard to believe I am 38 and David is 40.  But once again, my faith in the healing powers of music, brought to us by my longtime hero, rejuvenated my spirits and rocked my face off.





Now, about that horrible gas that David had on the way home.....

Setlist:
Badlands
Spirit In The Night
Outlaw Pete
Radio Nowhere
Out In The Street
Twist & Shout
Working On A Dream
Seeds
Johnny 99
The Ghost Of Tom Joad
Raise Your Hand
Give The Girl A Kiss
Trapped
Waiting On A Sunny Day
The Promised Land
Backstreets
Kingdom Of Days
Lonesome Day
The Rising
Born To Run

Hard Times
Thunder Road
Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out
Land Of Hope And Dreams
American Land
Rosalita
Bobby Jean



Video from the show:





The shirt I paid too much money for: