Archive for the ‘BullOxen’ Category

The Double That Shook The Earth…..

Posted: February 27, 2011 in 1990, BullOxen, Frost, Games, Hank, McBride, Rogers, Weapon
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It was June 27, 1990.  We traveled out to Notre Dame high school on a Wednesday afternoon to pick up where we had left off three weeks earlier, bad blood and all.  The game we had started three weeks ago was tied 3-3, and called off due to darkness.  So the plan today was to finish the first game, and then play another seven inning game before it got dark.  So it was “Kind of” a doubleheader.  In the back of our minds we were all thinking about what went down between Fat Jody and McBride.  I am sure that all of the parents of both teams had heard about the drama….because by the time we got this thing started, the stands were FULL on both sides of the diamond.  It had the atmosphere of a playoff game.  So I was looking forward to see how we handled the spotlight that day.

We had played well over the last few weeks since McBride went off on Jody and came into the game with a 6-5 record.  All I knew was we needed to win ONE of these games…I didn’t want to drive home with a 6-7 record if they swept us.  So this was another huge game for us.

Finally, the game started.  Both teams went quietly in the eighth inning.  And I don’t even have to tell you who was pitching for us……….. 

Weapon came up in the top of the ninth inning and grounded out.  Up came Bull Oxen.  Walk.  Up came Hank.  Walk.  Rogers flew out to the center.  Two down.

Cal Frost stepped up.  Frost looked at strike one.  The next pitch he drilled a two-iron over the shortstop’s head and up the left-center gap.  I knew Bull would score from second but I wanted to make sure Hank got in from first.  And Hank was all over it.  Hank was moving so fast he almost caught up to Bull.  I was halfway down the line windmilling when I realized there wasn’t even going to be a play at the plate.  Frost’s double had cleared the bases and given us a 5-3 lead.

When Hank stepped on the plate he damn near split it in half.  I don’t think I had ever seen Hank this fired up and emotional as he got.  And no one…and I mean NO ONE wants to win more than Hank.  When Hank scored he continued to sprint towards the chain link fence on the first base side.  He leaped in the air about three feet and his momentum carried him right into the fence, where he clung to it…Spiderman-style.

As he was up in the air, clinging to that fence,  he started shaking it with his hands and feet.  He made sure every single person in the Notre Dame stands was watching him while he shook the fence and yelled out “Fuck Yeah!!!!!!” for about 10 seconds.  They were shocked!  Every mouth in that stands dropped about a foot!  And ‘Ol Hank was up there giving it to ’em….I think he made eye-contact with every last one of ’em!!!

Our dugout and fans were making a lot of noise.  Their side was silent.  Normally, an outburst like that was crazy…..the outcome of the game had not yet been determined…..and we STILL needed three outs to win…..but that’s what we all were FEELING at that moment.  So I let ’em go.  I didn’t say anything.  I just squinted my eyes and looked straight at Fat Jody.  He looked away when he caught my squinting eyes………..

Then I looked around for McBride.  He was sitting down and just STARING at the field.  Yeah, he had that look in his eye.  I knew he was gonna finish ’em off.

But Hank wasn’t done.  When Hank came down from the fence….he started yelling “Fuck Yeah!!!  That’s 7-5, now let’s make it 8-5 in another 10 minutes!!!”

He was predicting the WIN!!!   We still needed three outs but Hank had just moved us up in the standings from 6-5 to 7-5..and was even talking about 8-5!!!

I loved it!!  Mcbride’s outburst three weeks earlier had pulled us together.  And Hank took us out on a limb.  And we were about to find out if we could trash talk and back it up. 

McBride was a little too pumped and walked their leadoff hitter in the bottom of the ninth.  The next hitter laced a single to left, but the runner who moved to second on the base-hit took too big of a turn towards third.  Damon Martin, our left fielder…fired the ball to the cutoff man Frost, and Frosty back-picked to second where BullOxen made a great play tagging out the runner.  That broke their backs.  And Hank was over there at first base (right in front of their dugout) barking “Fuck Yeah!!” again.

The next hitter popped out.  One out to go.

McBride was totally pumped!  He was overthrowing.  He walked their cleanup hitter on four pitches.  Turner went out to the mound and calmed him down.

Runners at first and second…two out.  And McBride STRIKES OUT their other big gun Lou Tapia LOOKING!!!!

Done!  We walked the Walk!!  No crazy celebration when it ended.  Yeah, David had kind of beaten Goliath but I liked the way we handled ourselves when it ended.  You could sense that our guys were figuring out just what we were capable of.  And we proved we could play with anybody that day.  And yeah…as Hank predicted….we were now 7-5. 

We had woken up a sleeping giant with that win.  Notre Dame had a lot of talent on that team and they beat our asses pretty good the second game that day.  But it didn’t matter.  We STOLE a game from them with nothing more than will, resolve, grit, and determination.  

And you know what’s really cool?  Notre Dame missed the Playoffs that year by ONE GAME.

You think ‘Ol Fat Jody spent a little time over the winter thinking about THIS ONE????????? 

Yes-sir-ree….’Ol Cal Frost’s double……..The Double that SHOOK THE EARTH.  The Double that was one of the greatest DEFINING  moments of our four years of Glory.  The Rock in our sling that SLAYED Goliath……….

“Nance”…………

Posted: February 23, 2011 in Behind the Scenes, BullOxen, Calf
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Her name was Nancy.  We all called her “Nance.”  She was a mother to all of us.  Nothing got by Nance.  She knew what was going on at ALL times.  Yet she never said a word.  She knew about all of the hell-raising we were doing…..but she just kind of looked the other way.  You know, the original coaching staff was General and I.  But every year, even as the coaching staff was growing, we had an invisible coach.  One extra coach who nobody knew about.  Someone who wanted to win as much as we did.  Someone who probably knew the game more than we did.  Someone who did more behind the scenes for this Team than we could ever report in this Blog.  It was Nance.  She understood that “Boys will be Boys” and I think that’s why we all loved her.  If we got too out of line she would just kind of give us that look.  And then, when we got the message she was sending us with that look….she would always smile.

Even the day after we clinched our first playoff spot….when everyone was hungover and walking around the field with open flesh wounds from “Gar-burns” all she said was “Kelly, did you boys burn yourselves with cigars last night?”  I just kind of looked at her…guilty as hell…as if to say “what can I say?”

Nobody kept a scorebook like Nance.  I first met Nancy at the second game of our Team’s history in 1990 when we were playing Burbank.  We got everything ready, had the pre-game drill, and I was holding the scorebook when the game started.  I was going to keep score.  She looked at me and said “you want me to do that for you?”  I was happy she offered.  I just was wondering what she was going to write down in the book.  Being the idiot that I was….I figured she didn’t know what she was doing.  Well…we won the game…and it was a big win.  I went to look at the book after the game and it was the most MASTERFUL scorekeeping I had ever seen.  The kind of thing that could bring a tear to your eye.  I was humbled.  And then when I got to talking with her I realized this woman knew the game better than I did.  When BullOxen told me that his mother was his hitting coach…..I never tried to give him ANY advice as a hitter.  His swing was in good hands………..Bull used to say “nobody knows my swing better than my mom.”

And she was the coolest.  Smoking cigs….talking baseball.  What could be better than that?  I’ve been looking at the books for the last couple of weeks and I now know how lucky we were to have Nance on our side.  Perfect Books.  You see….she would even write in comments about what happened in the game if there was room in the scorebook.  Like when Fielder leaped over the catcher at Crespi…Nance wrote in “somehow he scored – caught in rundown – overthrow at third – jumped over catcher.”

Or when there was a bad call…Nance wouldn’t write in “Bad Call” in the book.  She would abbreviate it.  She would abbreviate it to “BFC.”  I’m sure you readers out there know what the ‘F” means.  Of course she would write that in ONLY if the call went against us.  “T7″…..”MB6″….”MT4″…”RUN T7″……….pitch count at the bottom…..everything a manager could dream of was right there in the book.  Here I am almost 20 years later…and thanks to Nance…I can open the scorebooks and can literally watch the game all over again.  Incredible. 

BullOxen and Calf are lucky to have such a great mom.  And I’m lucky she didn’t kill me for all the hell I raised……or take my job as Manager of The Team.  And we’re all lucky she took such great care of us.  Thank you Nance for all you did FOR ALL OF US.  And FROM ALL OF US………if we never said it to you…we can all say it now….We love you!!!!!!!!!

“BOMB!!!”

Posted: February 23, 2011 in 1992, BullOxen, Games, Wiley
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It’s all coming back to me now.  “They burned their bodies” the night we clinched a playoff spot for the first time.  We had taken it down to the final days of the ’90 and ’91 seasons and were knocked out of the playoffs.  So when we clinched a spot in ’92…needless to say, it kicked off quite a celebration.  We clinched on a Friday night at our other home field Glendale High, beating Fat Bitch from Sun Valley for the second time in 10 days.  The problem was, we had a game to play Saturday morning at 10 AM against Panorama City……but that was the least of our worries………it was time to PARTY.

And PARTY we did.  As was mentioned in an earlier post by Colin James, ALOT of the players came over and we were all drinking and smoking cigars.  That’s when the “GAR-BURNS” happened.  Then the players went home…and General and I went out drinking at a local bar where we ran into a couple of moms from The Team.  Now don’t get any ideas out there you readers……it was a great time drinking kamikaze shots till the bar closed with a couple of parents from The Team.  They were as elated as we were.  I was drunk when I got to the bar..and must have done AT LEAST another 10 kamikaze shots.  OUCH!!!!  And General was hanging tough as always…matching me shot for shot!!!

I wouldn’t have woken up for the game but my phone rang about 9 AM Saturday morning.  It was General.  All he said was “gonna be late…still drunk”………..

Here it was SEVEN hours later and we were still totally ripped!!!  He showed up about 9:30 AM.  I loaded the gear in the back of his truck, and got in.  General was NOT looking good.  General drove about 10 feet, stopped the car, opened his door…leaned his head out of the truck and puked!!!  Somehow we made it to the game.  I think this was the first time the players were at a game before the coaches. 

I got to the game and heard that one of the moms had brought some doughnuts.  Those were the best doughnuts I have ever eaten in my life!  We all needed something to get us going and those doughnuts did the trick.  Somehow, with the hangovers, the cigar burns and everything else…we were ready to go.  Wiley Jackson was on the mound.

You never would have thought we were up partying all night when we rolled a four in the first inning….picking right up where we left off the night before.  I was thinking “these guys are unstoppable…they’re on a mission!!”  ‘Ol Wiley shut ’em down, scattering six hits and striking out seven in a 11-1 victory.  But the REAL STORY was what happened in the 6th inning.

BullOxen came up in the 6th with one out.  He took the first pitch for a ball.  The next pitch he fouled off.  Then he looked down to me for a sign.  I gave no sign…All I did was mouth the word to him “BOMB.”  He looked back at me.  I did it again.  I mouthed the word “BOMB.”  He looked at me as if to say “okay, no problem”, and got back in the box and waited for the pitch.  And sure enough, the NEXT FRICKIN’ PITCH he BOMBED it over the left field fence and into the netting that surrounds the bullpen for a HOMERUN.  He smiled at me as he rounded first.  That is the ONLY TIME I ever gave someone “The Homerun Sign” and it was also the last.  Bull hit six homers in his three-year career with us but this one was special.

Later I said to him…”Shit, if I knew it was THAT easy, I can think of about 50 other times the last three years I should have asked you to do that!!”  He just smiled.

Great moment.  Great Team.  Great Kid…………TRUE STORY…………..

Proof that “They Burned Their Bodies”……..

Posted: February 21, 2011 in 1992, BullOxen, Hank, No Way!, Turner, Weapon
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We’ve had close to 500 hits on this blog already.  So it’s becoming obvious that there are some people out there reading this shit every day who had nothing to do with this team and don’t know who the hell we are.  They are clearly reading this brilliant shit strictly for entertainment purposes.  For those of you who are doing so…we thank you.  And we agree that there is some pretty funny shit on this blog!!  We also urge you to write in to us here at Verdugo Headquarters and remind us of how brilliant we are!! (as if we don’t already know).  This picture came in today from New Orleans, Louisiana where one of our All-Time Greats by the name of “Turner” is now living.  For those of you who don’t know what this picture is…..may I direct your attention to one of our earlier blog entries titled “They Burned Their Bodies” by Colin James.  This is a picture of Turner’s ‘Gar-Burn.”  Turner, by the way, shaved his head when we clinched a playoff spot that season.  Turner also had a fake ID when he was 18 years old and playing for us…WITH MY NAME ON IT!!!  CLUTCH PICTURE TURNER!!!  Ahhhh!!!  Thanks for sending it in.  I know there are more of you out there who can take a few minutes and take a quick snapshot of YOUR Gar-Burn and send it in here to Verdugo Headquarters.  Weapon said he was going to send a picture of his in last time I talked to him…..but then again…I used to give “Weap” the take sign on a 3-0 pitch and he’d TAKE all right…..as in TAKE a big rip at it….(I’m just sayin’).  So Weap…we’re looking forward to seeing your Verdugo Gar-Burn indeed.  You owe it to us to send us a shot of that, dude….after all…it later caused you a trip to the hospital emergency room.  Weapon also told me that when he got to emergency the nurse asked him “Did you do this to yourself?”  In typical Verdugo-style, Weap lied and told her he had tripped at a bonfire party at the beach or some bullshit.  Then, when Weapon got the bill in the mail….in typical Verdugo-style…he never paid it!!!!!!  Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Here’s a close-up of Turner’s GAR-BURN for everyone!!!!!!!!!!

BullOxen Tells No Lies………

Posted: February 19, 2011 in 1992, BullOxen, Calf, Hack, Uncategorized
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BullOxen made a comment on one of the stories about a week ago and also shared a story about how he had worn a wet towel under his Verdugo cap on a 100 degree day.  For those of you who think we’re just making this stuff up…..I strongly encourage you to read his comment………and then tell me what you think of this picture!!!!!!!!!!!!  This awesome picture was sent in to me from Hack Workman up in Portland!!!!!!!  CLUTCH JOB HACK!!!!!!!!!!!  Click image to slightly enlarge!!!!!!!!! 

“It was me….”

Posted: February 16, 2011 in 1993, BullOxen, Games, General, Hank, Rags/Trash Talk, Weapon
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It was no secret that I liked to run kind of a “loose ship” at Verdugo.  I was smoking cigarettes in the dugout.  We always had our official Gatorade cooler filled with some nice cold water.  Oranges were always in the dugout.   I allowed Jess Rogers to set up shop IN our dugout making snowcones for everyone.   Even though the league had very tough rules on tobacco use on the field and in the dugout, I never got caught by the umpires smoking.  The rule was simple if you were caught…immediate ejection from the game.

I even let our players chew tobacco.  Some of the guys had that thing going on where you get a chaw going and then wrap it in bubblegum.  I used to chew, but by the time I was managing our team my chewing days were long gone.  It had been at least 10 years since I had chewed.

In ’93 we were playing a game on a Saturday at Birmingham High.  Birmingham always had a weak team, but this season they were winning a few games here and there and were starting to get a little “uppity.”  Anyways, one of their guys came up in the first inning and bombed a home run off Garrett Lee, giving them  2-0 lead.  It was the bottom of the first inning and they were celebrating like they had just won the World Series.  We just kind of laughed at them and by the eighth inning we had opened up an 11-2 lead…and I had knocked their pitcher out of the game.  Wait a minute you say?  I knocked him out of the game?  Yes I did. 

We all know about the importance of “the short hop” but from the third base coaching box you can’t be short-hopping EVERYONE.  You gotta kind of pick your spots.  If I couldn’t do a blatant SHORT HOP at someone…I would usually toss back to the pitcher what I called my “Tough Knuckler.”   Well, a foul ball came over my way around the 5th inning after we had been knocking their starter around and I decided to fire that “Tough Knuckler” at the pitcher.  It was the mother of all knucklers.  I had screwed around with knucklers my whole life and this may have been the ONLY one that actually “knuckled.”  Well, it knuckled so well that he couldn’t catch it…it hit him in his right kneecap…and he had to come out of the game.  I really don’t think the knuckler hurt him as bad as the battering our hitters were giving this guy.  Let’s face it..he WANTED out of the game.  But put it down in the books…..I was the guy who delivered the official knockout punch. 

The boys at Birmingham were getting a little upset.  They had to find SOME WAY to win this game, and it wasn’t going to happen on the field.  So one of their coaches goes to the ump and tells him that we had guys chewing tobacco in the dugout.  Sure enough, the umpire comes over to our dugout to see if there was any “evidence” of chaw.  The whole dugout was filled with spit all over the ground.  Forensic tests were not needed on this one…we were BUSTED.  The ump said “who’s been chewing?”

“It was me”……….I said.

“You did all of this?” he asked.  “You could have been sitting here for two days and not spit that many times.”

“Well, I was doing it, too” ……….announced General.

Then Hank pipes up “Yeah, so did I.”

Weapon followed up with “Okay, you got me….I was doing it, too.”

BullOxen said…….”Yeah, it was me.”

The funny thing that was happening here was that NONE of the coaches had chewed.  Well, except for maybe BullOxen.  But we all stepped up to account for the mess in the dugout and to protect any players from getting tossed out of the game.  Totally unorchestrated, every coach instinctively took the bullet for the other guys.  Anyways, the ump BELIEVED our story and threw all five coaches out of the game.  Automatic forfeiture of the game.  No coaches left.  This set off an immediate dogpiling from the Birmingham team.  They had defeated us and now they were rubbing it in……

But wait a minute!!!!!!!  There JUST HAPPENED to be a couple of old codgers there from Post 288 who were there watching our team play that day.  In fact…ONE OF THEM was actually listed on the official paperwork of our team (that I just so happened to have with me that day) as the DE FACTO Manager of our team!!!  That’s right…’Ol Dave Haskell was there and had to come on the field for the final few innings to guide the team to victory.  The umps were really disappointed that Haskell was there.  And the boys from Birmingham had to break up their little dogpile and get back on the field and finish off the whoopin’ we were giving them.  And all five coaches who were thrown out of the game got to sit in the stands and take it all in.  The boys at Birmingham were now STARING DOWN Haskell.  They were not happy.  Hank said something to the Birmingham dugout like “we’ve got some bad news………HE DOESN’T CHEW!!!” 

Haskell knew nothing about baseball, and was the first to admit it.  This made it even more hilarious.  He was hamming it up down in the third base box…giving signs to our players that had no meaning.  Haskell, probably about 75 years old at the time, was rubbing it right back in Birmingham’s collective faces……and he was loving every minute of it.

Haskell was a drill sergeant in the Army.  After the game he went into full drill-sarge mode….which scared the hell out of a few of our players.  “Pay attention now I’m talking to you!!” he barked at the team.  I’ll never forget the look on Cowsill’s face!!  It was like…holy shit!!! 

“Now!!” Haskell said “I want you all to say right now WE’RE THE BEST!!!”

A few guys said “We’re the best”

It wasn’t loud enough for Haskell…….”I said I want to hear you say WE’RE THE BEST!!!”  He looked like a real drill sarge.  Scary…mouth open…sizing people up….daring someone to challenge his authority.  Moving in close on people acting like he was about to grab them and kick their ass if they didn’t do it.  Everyone got the message.

“WE’RE THE BEST!!!!!!!!”

“Say it again” he barked.

“WE’RE THE BEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Haskell had everyone…including me, all jacked-up and screaming “WE’RE THE BEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

It was so loud the Birmingham players and coaches were really starting to get pissed about it.

God that was a great day…………

Verdugo ALWAYS gets in the last word……….AND the last laugh!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bull Oxen Gets Branded

Posted: February 12, 2011 in 1991, BullOxen, Hank
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It was a hot day in 1991 when we were playing Granada Hills out at their yard.  I wasn’t in a real good mood that day.  First of all we ended up getting beat 5-4.  Secondly, we left 17 men on base that day.  That’s right………17 men!!  It seemed like that was the story of the ’91 team.  The first two guys of every inning would go down and then we’d start a fucking two-out rally.  Add that to the fact that we didn’t have a whole hell of a lot of speed on that team and it kind of ties your hands.  We still had a great season.  We went 13-9 and if we had swept a double-header on the last day of the season we would have won the Division Title and reached the playoffs.  

Hank and BullOxen had their usual game of between-inning hockey going on.  Hank would don the fungo, his first baseman’s glove, a catcher’s mask and get into a goalie-like position in front of the dugout opening.  When the between-inning warm-ups were complete, our first baseman would try to fire a short-hop past Hank.  Today it was BullOxen playing first base for us.  They kept score like it was a frickin’ hockey game.  Hank gave it up to block anything.  He didn’t care if it hit him in the face or whatever…and if he got hit he pretended it didn’t hurt (Verdugo-style).  It was entertaining to watch.  But the way we were playing this day, nothing was very entertaining to me.

Around the seventh inning I was sitting in our dugout on the first base side looking at something in the scorebook or something.  All of a sudden I HEARD…that’s right I HEARD a ball sizzle by my face…you know that fzzzzzzzing sound you hear…missing my nose by about an inch.  The ball rattled around the inside of the dugout.  Guys were running for cover.  It hit at least one guy.  You think that got my attention?  Helllllllll yes it did!!!  So I look up to see who the hell did that and there’s BullOxen and the rest of the team on the field celebrating that they had scored a goal on Hank.  Bull was out there laughing…he was looking at the shortstop and celebrating.  Without missing a beat I reached straight down to our ball bag that was conveniently located right next to my right foot and from a sitting position FIRED a ball as hard as I could at “Ol Bull out there who was laughing his ass off about 75 feet away.  And it hit him RIGHT IN THE ASS!!!!!!

That’s right…..drilled him.  He looked into the dugout at me but he couldn’t get too pissed about it.  He knew he had it coming.  And totally Verdugo-style…he pretended it didn’t hurt.  Some people in the stands were laughing about it, saying “Nice shot Gee”……

Still, that throw was a pretty stupid thing of me to do………..

Someone said “were you trying to hit him in the ass with that throw?”

“Absolutely” I said.  Lying through my teeth.

We all had a good laugh about that one (well, except for maybe Bull) and I must admit I got lucky with that shot.  I could have injured my own player pretty bad with that throw.  But the Gods were always looking over us at Verdugo…and thank God Bull’s goal on Hank didn’t leave stitch marks on my face…..and thank God my throw only hit him in the ass. 

Bull told me a few days later……”Gee that throw left a mark…..you nailed me good.”………..and he was laughing about it.

All I can say is we had the greatest kids any coach could ever hope to have on his team.  Do you think I stopped all future between-inning hockey games after that?  Hell, no.  Part of my pre-game ritual from that game forward was to find out what part of the dugout was “the net” and I positioned myself at the other end.  Between-inning hockey became a great tradition for Verdugo, and it was fun to watch………FROM THE OTHER END OF THE DUGOUT.   There was another game they brilliantly invented which I will be telling you about soon……….probably in the next post………a little game they liked to call “FLIP.”

Fat Bitch Gets His Bra Knocked Off…Twice!! (Part One)

Posted: February 10, 2011 in "B", 1992, BullOxen, Haggs, Rags/Trash Talk, Yves
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I never liked this kid the moment I first saw his fat lazy ass.  Of course I dislike anyone wearing a different uniform than ours, but there was a special annoyance I had with this overweight slob.  I REALLY became annoyed with him when he beat us in 1990 with a 75 mile an hour fastball.  In fact, ALL HE HAD was a “fastball.”   I couldn’t believe he beat us, and our guys couldn’t believe it either.  All I know is we wanted another shot at him.  We had to wait two long summers before we faced him again, but it was well worth the wait, and not only did we get another shot at him…we got TWO!!!

You guys on the 1990 Team know who I’m talking about.  The fat slob from the Sun Valley team with the crewcut.  If you would have put a set of white and red checkered overalls on this guy…the Bob’s Big Boy mascot would have been out of a job.  What a sweathog!!  This may be the first guy I’ve seen who sweated from his eyes and ears and fingernails!! (maybe even his teeth, too).   And to top it all off…he actually thought he was good.  I don’t know how the hell this slovenly mongrel beat us that year in 1990…but he did.  I’m still fucking pissed that cheesedick beat us………

The problem was when we faced him two seasons later he had gained about 60 more pounds.  And he was throwing about 94 mph.  He now actually had a “fastball.”  And he had just finished a season of Junior College ball where he actually did pretty well.  I mean this Fat Bitch was bringing’ it.  I saw him in the bullpen throwing peas….he was all geared up.  I didn’t care how fucking hard he was throwing…I knew we were ready for whatever he came at us with.  I mean, this guy had like TWO pitches he threw…hard and HARDER.  Looking back, I thank God they didn’t sell Red Bull back in 1992, cause this guy was ready to blow a frickin’ head gasket.   And since he beat us in 1990…he figured this game was going to be just a walk in the park.   

This was a big game.  The playoff picture was starting to emerge and we were right in the thick of it.  We came into that game 12-2 and had just SWEPT the Glendale team on 4th of July, effectively knocking them out of the playoff picture.  So it was basically down to us and Sun Valley for a playoff spot.  Some of the other coaches around the league (including Fat Jody) had come to watch the game that Sunday night.   When Sun Valley opened up a 5-0 lead…I guess all of the coaches had seen enough.  They all went home.  It was the top of the second inning and once again….everybody wrote us off.  I guess they thought that all this early-season hype about that team from Verdugo Hills was just a bunch of B.S………well, I would have PAID good money to see the look on the faces of all of those bitches when they opened up the L.A  Times Sports section Monday morning and learned we had come back to win 11-10.  Not only did we win…but ANOTHER rivalry had started.  

Fat Bitch was bringin’ it pretty good that night.  But BullOxen hit a seed in the bottom of the first that the left fielder somehow grabbed to end the inning.  Fat Bitch did a little double-take after that bullet…and I heard one of the guys in our dugout say something like “there’s gonna be plenty of that tonight fat ass” as he was walking back to his dugout.  We rolled a five on him the next inning.  Now guys in our dugout were starting to say to him stuff like “nice tits.”   Hagee hit a frickin’ seed that whistled past his little crew-cut.  Then he DOSED Yves with a pitch…trying to instill a little fear in us.  It didn’t matter….we hit bullets off of him all night.  He was getting a whiplashed out there.  Finally someone said…”pick up your bra, bitch.”……..we were calling him “Chuck and duck”……….it was brutal the shit we said.  And we were lovin’ every minute of it…..

Cowsill lead off the seventh with another shot up the left-center gap…and Hagee knocked ‘ol fat-ass out of the game with another screaming whistler right past his fat noggin.  As their manager went out to pull his beat-like-a-dog-ass out of the game we were all (except me of course) just jawing at their coach who looked like a fat walrus himself.  He was so pissed that right there in front of about 300 people he looks into our dugout from the mound and acts like he’s holding it and jacking-off as if to say to us…”fuck you.”

Wiley Jackson was quick to say to him after his little gesture……….”Hey two-five need some soap?”

That comment brought the house down. They were done. We were totally in all of their heads.  Fat Bitch had to make the walk of shame into right field after we had totally lit him up and walrus had pulled him from the game.  He had to walk right past Hagee who was standing on first.  And Hagge was jawing at him all the way.  The ump had to intervene.  That may have been the hardest that fat-bitch had been hit his whole life…………at least until about 10 days later, when we hit him even HARDER and knocked him out again.

They kept trying to come at us but ran themselves out of both the eight and ninth innings….and we held on to win.  All in all….we torched him for 10 runs in six innings.  And he only struck out one guy.  But the damage was done when we kept hitting shot after shot RIGHT AT one of their guys on defense……..that was what had really demoralized him.  Of course…….after the game he was already saying shit like “we’ll see you in 10 days.”  And sure enough……..he did.  This was only the first time he got his bra knocked off………….I can’t wait to tell you about the SECOND time we did it to him.

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