Two Nights Before X-Mas At The Dollhouse and The Importance of Brad Miller...

Strawberry began working at Dollhouse off Cyprus just shy of International Plaza and Westshore. Her friends were beautiful and the snow I could find lingering in there off the noses of the clientele and colleagues was brilliant.
I had a tradition for Strawberry for whenever she started working somewhere new to spend an evening there just to get a feel to the joint and how her clients treated her and that the bouncers were watching the girls. After all, a bunch of men with hard-ons waving money around in front of beautifully stark naked women is never a sedate environment.
Strawberry could sway those hips pretty good for a white chick.
"Hey buddy, you seem infatuated with that one," an overweight guy wearing a black polo exclaims.
"You could say that,"
I saw a Nissan logo on the shirt.
"This is my spot. They serve the best food and the women here are top notch," he stammered underneath the loud music.
I also spotted a wedding ring.
He also spotted that I spotted his wedding ring.
"She doesn't know," he cried.
Here comes the Christian guilt.
"Who?"
Playing dumb always gets you more answers.
"My wife," he said.
Yawn.
"Your secret's safe with me,"
He smirked and roamed off.
Strawberry tamed my hormones enough to where I didn't need to come in these places and spend money on women dancing erotically. What she did to earn her money was her affair, just knowing she came home to me every night was enough to know that it was a slippery definition of love in the modern terms anyhow...
"Are you enjoying yourself there sexy?" this girl says to me from the left side.
I lit up a smoke.
"I don't know,"
She lit up a smoke too.
"Got a light?"
I extended my hand out and lit her end.
"What's a nice face like you doing here?" she smoothly asked.
Her tits were fake.
"Well..."
Lost in communication my mind wandered off in mid-sentence underneath the dome on the diamond where everything mattered most...

For reasons unknown after losing Longoria in a blockbuster trade, Brad Miller has been lingering inside of my mind. I say it because he is one of the most seasoned veterans on the team and could be rolling forward along with Corey Dickerson, Steven Souza Jr. and (now) Denard Span. I wouldn't go as far to throw KK in the mix but in Rays terminology he is a veteran (I suppose) too. Needless to say, The Rays scooped up big Brad in six player trade in November of 2015 that also saw Nate Karns get shipped off and brought over Lomo and Danny Farq too. Despite all of the trials and tribulations of Brad, he's shown flashes of being a real high caliber type of player. His defense is sub-par from 2B, it utterly atrocious from the left side of the diamond BUT could be a sleeper at 1B. There's no doubt, homeboy has the power. Let's forget his injury plagued 17' campaign but look closer at the 16' year. Brad totaled 548 ABs and had this nice little line to show for it : Slugging .482 / .786 OPS / ended the year with a .243 BA. All in all, he played in 152 games that year, which demonstrated he has the potential of being a grinder. 16' was his career year...THUS FAR. The Rays might come out on top with this trade in the end if they can get him healthy and time that swing a little better. Also, it'd be really nice to see him shore up his defense a little more hence why I think he could be a sleeper in the 1B position. Makes you wonder with Bauers on the horizon, Schimpf, Wendel, D-Rob and Duffy in the mix now Longo is gone, how Brad Miller will be factored in? No matter how you get around it though, he is key to possible success of this core moving forward. With all of these acquisions, there seems no reason to bring back Lomo (though I think they should).

"Hey buddy you got a light?" this guy with a thick beard asks.
"Sure...er...let me find it,"
I fumbled around, lit the end of his cancer stick and watched the smoke evaporate into the ceiling.

The Truest (Devil) Ray Goes Back West, Character(less) and at The Nursing Home...

"We're going to see my mom today," Strawberry explains.
"Er...okay. How's she doing?"
"Well, not so good..." she began.
After you've been fed up with dealing with your parents in the twilight years of their lives, you force them into a home where neglect is as rampant as the roaches infesting their walls. After all, this is Florida. Where America comes to die.
"Well, she'll be happy to see us,"
I slipped off into the bathroom, tied the belt extremely hard around the arm to get a good look at the lucky vein. I'd developed a bad habit of doing this every time we went to the nursing home as I could not cope being surrounded by these people who were waiting out their days to die. In essence, it was the end of the line. The heroin went flowing in my veins and the body subdued into a total toxic nirvana.

Strawberry stuck the poor old bastard in a Greystone out in St. Pete (another reason I felt like shooting up). The facility was nothing abnormal and the neighborhood no exception. Liquor stores and churches on every corner sprinkled in with a McDonalds, Taco Bell, Burger King or car dealerships. The CNA's looked worn out or were laughing hysterically doing very little.
"Hey mom!" Strawberry greeted.
"Hey darlin'," she croaked.
The old bitch didn't even know who I was. Her eyes looked on in despair.
"Hey Ms..."
Her face remained placid and Strawberry grabbed her wheelchair from behind and rolled her into the cafeteria. We passed through a lobby when the key phrase Longoria was said from the television. I stopped. ESPN had been on.
Reports are confirming Evan Longoria is being traded to the San Francisco Giants for...
I didn't even care who it was for.
"Strawberry, I need a moment,"
"Okay babe," she said in confusion.
Heroin makes you feel like a zombie but the emotions were still very much alive inside my mind. I wandered outside and found a watering hole in a strip mall. The scene was typical, dudes with bad leathery skin, women with sun drenched hair and cigarette smoke. Lifeless.
"I'll take a beer and a shot buddy,"
"You got it," the lady cried in a scratched out broadcast.
I stared at the television. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. ESPN was giving the details on the blockbuster trade.
The Rays send off long time Ray Evan Longoria to The San Francisco Giants for Christian Arroyo, Denard Span and two minor leaguers in Matt Krook and Stephen Woods. What do you think...
Maybe it was the heroin but I couldn't seem to move my feet.
"You alright buddy?" this guy in a grey shirt asks.
"No,"
"What's the matter?" he asked kindly.
"Everything,"
"Oh," he says.
He took notice that I was frozen to the screen.
"Pretty crazy huh? Who would've thought?" he laughed.
"Tab me out please,"

I wandered back to the Greystone and found Strawberry in the room with her decaying mother. The wall was cluttered with photos of the past and I saw where Strawberry got her looks. Good thing her mom knew nothing of her profession.
"So the weather sure has been hot mom!" she laughed.
She was such a sweetheart.
"Oh yes," she responded.
I sat still, turned on ESPN and didn't move.
"You ok?" Strawberry asked.
"No,"
A male nurse walks in and glances to the TV while holding the meds.
"Finally!" he says.
Taken aback.
"What?"
The girls kept talking.
"He was bound to get traded sooner than later," he grumbled.
We locked eyes.
"His numbers have been plummeting and we got a better player in Arroyo," he cried.
"We just lost OUR DUDE,"
Strawberry could hear it in my voice the violence was simmering.
"I like the Rays too but Evan has not been producing on the field and I feel we probably owe ten wins to him that he did not give us. I mean, don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed watching Longo play hard all of these years but his numbers are dwindling, he won't win here and moving forward they are better team without him now," he explained.
Emotions blinded me.
"So he is at fault for the losses last year? Not Kevin Cash?"
"Look, if Evan Longoria was a leader he would've brought the team to the playoffs once in these last four years but hasn't. Change isn't always a bad thing," he explained.
We slightly came to a treaty.
"Try to think analytically and not be so emotionally invested," he hissed and walked out the door.
Male nurses...
"Chill out baby," Strawberry said.
I slipped into the bathroom, unbuckled my pants and began taking a dump. I wish I had more heroin. Funny how the toilet can be a place of meditation and peace.

The Rays lost the face of the franchise. As Evan Longoria leaves this market that is already suffering from attendance issues and an abomination of a stadium in what could be deemed one of the worst towns in Florida, it is of no wonder why Stu Sternberg dismantles this team. This is the equivalent of when they traded off David Price, Ben Zobrist and James Shields and letting Joe Maddon walk for simply nothing. Trading Longo signals two things in my mind:
Stu is setting up the franchise in a good spot to be sold with a youthful farm system and team on the field for a prospective city.
The other way I see it is they are salary dumping all of these players from the last decade of success in order to fund the stadium in Ybor and/or somewhere in Tampa Bay. Rebuilds are hard but I do not see this as an entire rebuild. Yes, there is talent on the field but with the upcoming months, there is no doubt that Archer and/or Colome could be out the door. These are the icons of the franchise alongside Kevin Kiermaier. As much as I like KK, he plays reckless and has yet to really produce in one full season offensively and defensively. All-Star season has yet to be seen. The direction of this franchise seems to be a bit of a mystery with the pitfalls of the stadium issue (one of the most depressing places to watch a game...PERIOD) and now selling off franchise guys. The only player people could probably name you on the roster in this town would be Evan Longoria or Kevin Kiermaier. Identity goes a long way. Despite all of the analytics of the game and statistics there is something to be said about a team with character. See Miami Marlins for definition of a team with good players and ZERO character. Yelich, Ozuna, Stanton and Dee Gordon are all great players yet the franchise is ran by imbeciles. Almost makes you wonder what in the hell is going on in that front office in St. Pete? At the end of the day, this is a business and people come and go but there are cornerstone players who stay through the thick and thin. Freeman and Tehran have stayed put in Atlanta through their rebuild. All in all, it is a sickening day to day for this already questionable franchise. Subtract Maddon, Zobrist, Price, Shields, Moore, Cobb, Longo and Forsythe who were all beloved. Is it safe to say Archer and Colome are probably out the door next? It seems the definition of Rays Baseball would be never like  player when he becomes a legit Major Leaguer because they'll be shipped off for prospects anyhow.
This is complete utter lunacy. How do you gain fans and establish them if this is your method of business? What is there to get behind? It pains me to say this but The Marlins and Rays are very similar in that they are ran in the most moronic and unfathomable sense. Put all the statistics you want and compare but the fact is when you go to a game every year and the entire team is new year in, year out, how in the fuck do you get behind that let alone that awful stadium they play in owned by a guy who does not even invest into Tampa Bay and who is more preoccupied with The New York Mets? Denard Span? Really? I sincerely wish Evan Longoria all the best and how this franchise has lost someone who really loves Tampa Bay despite the organization making questionable moves. It will be no marvel when that stadium really dries up like the five o'clock tide going outward.

The shit slithered out of my arsehole smooth, wiped and I flushed.

A piece of Schimpf and Human Relations...

"I need another strand man," my buddy tells me over the phone.

"Call your boy, oh what's his name?" 

I seem to get these calls everyday. Since off season had begun, my life really goes into a turmoil of boredom and occupying time with obscure activities. 

"Oh yeah, that dude, I will hit him up," he cried and hung up.

Typical. Hunger set in and we went down to La Tropicana in Ybor to get a Palomilla sandwich. They were fire and I liked the interior of the joint. Strawberry swore up and down it was a mafia's family place, which I never protested about nor ever asked. You learn some questions are best kept between the person you trust the most...yourself.

We sat down with our sandwiches and I saw Bay News Nine talk about something the Rays were doing. Amazing to think they even acknowledged their existence.

"This sandwich is so good," Strawberry moaned with delight.

The Rays had been busy at the winter meetings in Orlando. They already snagged an IF utility guy in Joey Wendle from The Oakland A's. I'd never heard of the guy until the trade. They'll give them a player to be named or a bucket of ice. Perhaps he could surge in a Rays uniform? They say this is a "small move" but I entirely disagree. This signals something a lot greater than that, it clearly marks the end of the Brad Miller era. No disrespect towards Brad but the dude cannot play the IF worth a damn, has no range and is being overpaid (4.4 million or something along those lines). Ironically, if you look at Wendle, he is almost a Brad Miller prototype. Hits from the left side of the plate and has little range at 2B. Remember when they demoted Brad Miller from SS to 2B in 16' then went on to crush a bunch of homers? Hopefully that won't be necessary for ole' Wendle to be a doubles machine at Tropicana Field. I'd take a Dickerson and Wendle combo for doubles then sprinkle in the speed of KK and Mallex. Can you imagine if the front office targets more speed on the bases? I like that move actually because I've lost all faith in Brad Miller. Trade bait? 

"Do you want me to get a coffee baby?" I asked Strawberry.

"Do I?!" she laughed.

Rumors were all over the place of an imminent trade of Alex Colome, Chris Archer or Evan Longoria. I cannot even fathom the idea of the Rays without Longo. Needless to say, the front office got more inclined and snagged Ryan Schimpf from The San Diego Padres. Actually, this move makes a lot of sense. The Rays gave up minor leaguer Deion Tansel. Being the queer I am, I've always liked Schimpf. I saw him when the Rays hosted San Diego back in 16' and saw a nice little core they had and felt he had something special about him. Apparently 67.4% of his hits goes for extra bases and he is power from the left side of the plate. Again signalling they are giving up on some people on the roster thus far. Schimpf could be a nice addition to the IF that looks like it'll be evenly balanced...let's project Longo/Hech/Ramos/Sucre from the right side of the plate and Bauers/Schimpf/Wendle from the left side. Again, I'm an advocate of keeping Lomo long term (cannot believe I'm saying it but he really has a home with The Rays). Bauers and that sexy smooth swing is coming this year no doubt but then there's also Willy in the wings. I read something that if Longo were to be traded, Matt Duffy will be our starting 3B. MATT WHO?? Chico PLEASE!!!! Front office is really going out there for insurance. Back to the IF though...let's go with Longo, Hech, Willy, Bauers, D-Rob and Ramos anchoring home plate. I like the sound of that! Brad Miller trade is imminent...

"Those sandwiches are fire!" Strawberry declared.

"Yes they were my love, yes they were..."

We went home and made love.

Winghouse on MLK and The "Rebuild"...

The bartender had fake tits with a lazy eye and was a mocha skinned girl with shining makeup that made the night dazzle. She insisted on cutting off the asshole at the end of the bar who was watching the Falcons and Saints game.
"This jerk has been here since three o'clock drinking Bud Light," she explained.
Something told me he was bored with life or bitter...maybe both.
"WHERE'S MY GOD DAMN PHONE CHARGER?!" he roared.
The balding middle aged manager who gave off the impression he loved his job simply due to the environment comes on over and has a little chat with him.
"Just cut him off!" the bartender yelped.
It seemed to escalate the situation.
"YEAH FUCK BOY! CUT ME OFF! ASSHOLE!" he shouted.
All eyes were on them.

I looked up on the screen and saw rumblings of Giancarlo Stanton getting traded to The New York Yankees and couldn't help but think that the AL East was going to be lopsided with only two teams really in the mix anymore...the typical two...THEM. If The Rays were to rebuild, I'm not sure what that even means when they already are at a pretty low payroll. It seems rather strange the idea you'd trade off Chris Archer when we've already lost Alex Cobb to free agency despite the fact we have a lot of pitching depth on the farm that doesn't necessarily translate immediately to the Majors. So even if they do decide to bring up Yarbrough, Chirinos and Honeywell (as expected) who really anchors that rotation? Faria showed signs of being a good number two but ran out of gas. Odo is probably out the door as it is, Andriese is also a big question mark thus leaving The Rays with a lot to consider...trading Archer might be the dumbest thing imaginable but is not unfathomable due to the simple reason The Rays probably won't be competing for anything this year. Say they trade Longo and Archer (GOD FORBID) but let's say it happens, this puts a dagger in this season and probably some more to come. If they dealt Longo they'd absolutely need to fill that position at 3B. They let Patrick Leonard essentially walk for NOTHING, Kean Wong might be that dude and Jake Bauers will probably fill in at 1B if his Spring is like it was last year (kid can rake). Will the Rays go out and sign a second tier 1B out on the market? Maybe get Juan Franco back in a Rays uniform? Would they consider trading off Steven Souza Jr. after his value has increased incredibly? Let's go back to the pitching aspect of things again though...Blake Snell is not that ace we're looking for. He's also a solid number 2 or 3 guy in the rotation. I truly believe where the future lie in this rotation in terms of ace is Brent Honeywell. He's a leader at heart and the way he presents himself on the mound shows that guy you want in a big game situation. The kid has swag and competes hard. There's no doubt though...after letting Chase Whitley walk out the door for nothing after investing so much and trading off Boxberger it seems this front office has a game plan of total rebuild. This may be another dark year ahead and as I don't wish it onto anyone, Kevin Cash has to go too. There's simply no presence or demeanor to the guy. He doesn't seem like one to be a leader either...ugh...there's a common denominator here. The IF seems also as a question mark. Hech probably back at SS, Brad Miller needs to be dealt for a bucket of baseballs because he's overrated and an awful infielder (Willy Adames is the future too). Lomo needs to return, no need to repeat this. If Longo gets dealt, there's a huge hole to fill and as well within the clubhouse. It's almost unthinkable to imagine the Rays without Evan Longoria but is not impossible to consider as his age is creeping up and his value is still very high.

I took a bite out of my wing.
"FINE THEN! I'LL LEAVE! I'VE ONLY SPENT NEARLY A HUNDRED BUCKS HERE TODAY!" he roared.
...on Bud Lite?
The bartender seemed agitated and the manager just stood there fronting a smile and remaining extremely tame.
As the guy walked out he reached out his hand to the bartender for a shake then reversed it when the manager extended his hand out..."Thank you, NOT!" the guy yelled and stormed out.
The bartender shook her head in disgust as her lazy eye pointed east.

Rays Radio Guys and Seeking The Lucrative Meth in Pinellas County...

I was spending too much time in Pinellas County and wasn't at all happy about it.

"Alright man, when we get there, you just shut up and let me do the talking. You know how these Mexicans can be," my buddy explains as we roll up on The Palm Tree Trailer Park.

It was your typical layout of a trailer park where random bastard children roamed, veterans continued feeding their addictions, the parents sat inside wallowing about their personal woes/tragedies and the drugs flowed freely. 

"This shit is so good he has," my buddy cried.

Hector was our man we were meeting with and how they knew each other was a mystery. He got out of the car while I stayed inside observing the park.

"Hector! Que pasa amigo?!" he roared.

These things tend to work themselves out. There were some kids playing with old toys and laughing.

My buddy went inside as I turned onto 620 WDAE. 

Holiday Flex Packs! A perfect idea gift for any Rays Fan! The radio declared.

The deal was going down no less and the airwaves triggered some random thoughts...

There's something to be said about how the radio can still trigger the imagination in indescribable ways. Despite it being the year 2017 The Year of Our Lord, MLB still keeps intact the radio broadcasting for baseball and one would argue this is something cultural within the realms of the sport. It is a sport of strategy and though. Slowly paced, Every pitch matters. When you listen to other sports via radio it truly invokes the imagination differently as opposed to hearing a baseball game. I honestly prefer listening to games on the radio than watching it on TV (plus the stadium the Rays play at make it unbearable). There's something about how Dave and Andy describe the game and in their particular ways that make Rays Baseball distinct for their respective audience. When I was in the pen for verbal abuse and aggravated assault, I still had the chance to have a transmitter radio (yes, honest to God) and listen to the games that second half. There's something intriguing when Neil Solondz comes up that first hour Sunday morning and give the This Week in Rays Baseball report about the minor leagues, random players little biographies and a recap of the week's games. Something so simple could bring so much joy to a life. Baseball is the self-proclaimed "Greatest Past Time in America" and after spending sometime in the pen again with that little transmitter radio, I can agree with the statement. Are we so bored as a civilization that we need endless past times to fill our time and lives? aybe America's definition of culture is past time, which is to say, bored. Every time I hear the voices of Dave and Andy I know that somewhere, at sometime, there are fellow fans going about their daily lives and tuning in to Rays Baseball from all over the world. I've heard other radio crews and can honestly tell you that it feels foreign. Almost as foreign as one would feel in the far stretches of Cuba, Columbia, Japan, South Korea or Italy. There's something auxiliary to a team and that is the culture that is surrounded by it (for better or worse). In The Rays vein it is something particular/peculiar for it's small audience and with the upcoming years with the stadium issue and limited payroll, what remains consistent are the voices that continue to follow them; whether it be through the drudgery of losing or the high appraisal of winning. Every time I hear the replay of Dave and Andy yelling The Rays are going to The World Series! It invokes emotions and images that only true fans understand.

"Alright bro, let's get the fuck outta here!" my buddy declares. 

We lit up and let the sun splash through the windshield. 

"Damn, this is some good shit,"

Flex Packs are a great gift for any Rays Fans! The radio announced.

"I don't get how you watch baseball, it's so boring," my buddy snickered taking a hit.

Most people in Pinellas County were like this.

"You just don't get it,"

...most people on this side of the Bay didn't.

A Chinese Prostitute and The Curious Case of Tropicana Field...

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Brad Boxberger Gets Abducted By Aliens in Arizona and Playing GM While Smoking Spice...

What's more American than being impoverished? Thanking God everyday for it...
For reasons still unknown I was drinking in the only legitimate waterhole on Central close to the water and wondered why do I keep coming to a place I absolutely loathe? Perhaps the things you hate the most you must submerge yourself into deeper to have a better understanding of your reasons of hatred.
"What'll it be today buddy?" the fat bartender asked.
She had a clover leaf tattoo.
"Coors Lite,"
The TV was glowing showing some more nonsense about this country's president who kept on stirring up madness among the world.
"How's your day going?" she asked.
I didn't really know.
"I don't know,"
She looked seemed slightly perturbed by this answer.
"You're funny," she chuckled lighting up a cigarette.
Peer pressure is a mother fucker so I lit up too.
"Say lady, you know where I can score some spice?"
Without a hint she reached underneath the counter and passed me a little sack.
I went out front and lit up. A couple walked by and the guy was wearing a Rays hat. How the mind rambles when inebriated...

Brad Boxberger was traded to The Arizona Diamondbacks for a young pitcher who seemed to get his work in in Class A but was set back due to injuries. Boxy was an integral part of the bullpen in 15' and setback in 16' and wasn't all that great this year in 17'. He had an arbitration of over a little one million dollars so maybe this was a scheme for a Rays "salary dump". I read on Twitter the other day if you go to a Catholic University apparently you understand the business side of baseball as opposed to the fan base (hence the ugly empty "stadium" night in, night out).
Let's play God for a second...
If I were GM for a day and completely reboot the program, what would this God do? Let me see here: I would trade off Longoria for a boatload of prospects to the Atlanta Braves because their 3B has been empty since Chipper Jones retired, which is to say, a revolving door of wife beaters and randoms. Despite The Braves getting nailed for cheating, their farm system is still quite deep and could be a good moment for the Rays to capitalize on position players. Despite Evan Longoria being a franchise player, the dude wants to win and won't be doing that here for a long time especially with Kevin Cash leading the ship to the iceberg.
I would trade off Jake Odorizzi to the Twins because they are in desperate need of starting pitching with the playoffs set in their sites with a good core and I still believe that he can be a good 3-4 starter and they have the depth to do it as well.
Brad Miller should go but he won't because he's had yet another bad year so he's economical, which for The Rays is interesting because it's a gamble kinda like Lomo last year (whom they should also bring back but probably won't).
Colome should stay put. Period.
Archer should get traded to The Cardinals because they as well are deep enough for a haul and/or the reigning champs Astros because surely they are trying to compete again and have the depth needed to build their dynasty. That would anchor a one-two of Blake Snell and Jake Faria. If Spring goes well, electric wild man Jose DeLeon and Brent Honeywell make Opening Day Roster. Perhaps we should go out and get a veteran, hmm, let's make the Jake Odorizzi trade to The Braves for Matt Adams and bring in Jake Bauers Opening Day too. Kid rakes anyhow. Oh what about Corey Dickerson? What about ole' Dickerson? Meh, let's trade him off to The Dodgers or Athletics for some more prospects. Gotta rid the system anyhow! Bring up Jake Bauers and Wong! Looking ahead...I know at the trade deadline we'll fall off so let's prepare Wilson Ramos for some depth in Durham. Hell, let's send him somewhere REALLY random! The Brewers could use some catching depth for another try for the playoffs in a thick NL Central! What about fatboy Matt Andriese? The Angels seem to take anything that heads their way so let's get something out of that too. Maybe some more position players or send him to the Phillies for some young talent? The Phillies have no pitching so Andriese could be a nice addition in a trash town like that (see Hellickson's tenure there). Despite how they look in Spring, gonna bring up Yarbrough and Chirinos. Why not? Our AAA team looked good last year! That should trim the payroll to a meager fifty million so let's give Alex Cobb a nice little contract proposal and lock up Mallex Smith. Yes, stocking the pipeline sir.
Only if...

"That spice has me really buzzing,"
The bartender gave me a coy look.
"What?"
I was confused.
"It was actually crack buddy," she laughed.
It would explain the madness...

Players' Weekend at The St. Louis Cardinals and Meth...

I get this feeling, inside my bones...there's something special when watching a game at Busch Stadium. It must be nice to actually live in a baseball town. St. Pete is where the transient go to dry out in the sun and where Floridians get lured into some form of addiction albeit substance mentally or metaphysically. For reasons unknown, I was in some shit squalor off Central Avenue in St. Pete rubbing shoulders with this dude named Chuck.
"Hey man, come out back," he demands.
"Why? Game is about to come on,"
"It'll be worth your while," he chuckled.
Whatever that meant.
He escorted me into this dark alley and pulled out a little silver pipe.
"I don't have any bud,"
"Oh this is totally different," he laughed.
It smelled different and my intuition told me not to hit it.
So I hit it.

The weekend was for the players and they were wearing bright yellow hats and those funky jerseys that rip off the old Padres uniforms. As corny as they look, I dig them. They had all of these funky nicknames too.
For some reason, when Jake Odorizzi plays at Busch Stadium, he seems to bring his A game but not that Friday night. Only went 3.2 IP and gave up 3 hits, 3 runs (all earned) and walked four. Ouch Odo. Souza launched one into Big Mac Land. It goes without saying Steven Souza Jr. has shown was he is capable this year and hopefully will translate this into the next season. He could be a very big tool in the outfield (if not traded). The Rays pen held the down The Cards offense with a brilliant performance from Sergio Romo. This is how a winning team should look. Rays went on to win 7-3. Saturday went not-so-well. Hech and Duda knocked some runs in until the 9th inning when Boxy did what he's been doing all year and suck. Cards went on to hit a walk off two run bomb. Demoralizing.
Sunday Chris Archer took the bump against Lance Lynn. Arch went 7.0 IP, struck out 8 and gave up 5 hits. There is also rumors he could be traded too. With an affordable contract like his and a lot of talent, who wouldn't want Arch? The Cards are a team speculated to be interested and they have the prospects to give up for Archer. Lomo went deep twice and in the 10th to put The Rays ahead for the win. Why do I feel there are dark times ahead for these Tampa Bay Rays?

"So a big Rays fan are you?" Chuck snickered sarcastically.
"You could say that,"
The meth had me buzzing a bit and the neon yellow on their hats was glowing.
"I went to a couple of Devil Rays games growing up," Chuck announced.
This town did not deserve this team.
"Oh?"
St. Pete is where the old come to die and the northerners come to escape their brutal realities up north leaving a sociological purgatory of filth, religion and drugs throughout the land.
"I gotta go,"
He seemed even keel with his high and I barely escaped Central without driving straight into a wall.

Friday Evening with The Orioles...

"You got eight bucks?" Strawberry snapped.
I checked my wallet and surely enough, there was twenty. Looks like I did not blow it all on that pack of Natty Ice last night.
"Yes, I do,"
"It's the last Friday night game of the season. Wanna go?" Strawberry asked.
It seemed like a good deal.
The Baltimore Orioles probably felt the woes of another wretched season like us but at least we finished off with a better record. Going for us was Odo who had a pretty Odo-like year. Going for The O's was Wade Miley who had a pretty awful year.
Honestly by September, I was so disappointed with the team and how the offense dried up, I resorted to new horizons with baseball cards.
We drove over the beautiful bridge of Gandy as the sun set into the Gulf.
"Do you love me?" Strawberry asked.
"Yes,"
"Should we try for another baby?" she moaned.
This talk again.
"Are you sure about that or are you just feeling nostalgic?"
"Maybe it's the bud," she laughed.
Or your friends talking the maternal noise.
Earlier in the day I rolled up to my dude's house off Sligh. It was a deteriorating house that the state paid for and the kid was deemed "mentally unfit for work". Why couldn't I snag that title?
I'd known Twit since he was a little kid and nothing had really changed about him. Timeless one could say. His situation has never altered nor his mentality. Sometimes nature has ways of showing her marvel.
"Going to another game huh?" he snicked.
Sports let alone baseball did not exist in his world.
"Odorizzi is pitching for us and it's only seven bucks to go, so why not?"
Twit seemed taken aback for this.
"Can I go?" Twit questioned while taking a rip off his bong.
I couldn't bare the idea of having him alongside us tonight when Strawberry wanted "quality time together" that translated to getting obliterated, swerving on Gandy Bridge back home and bringing the inertia to her.
"I gotta spend time with my chick, you understand,"
He didn't even seem to fathom what English words went into his ears.

We arrived to a whopping Friday night crowd at Tropicana Field with barely 9,000 people in the fold.
The best spot on Friday nights here was at the Porch where the beers were only five bucks.  Wade Miley was a lefy who'd given The Rays a lot of troubles over the years, even with his time at Seattle and Arizona.
Odo barely got past four innings, gave up two hits and four punch outs yet had that pitch count creep up. Watching him leave the mound, something tells me he might be out the door this offseason. There's an endless flow of rumors of "rebuild" for this team. Is that even possible for a team that has a Sixty Million Dollar payroll? They brought in Cishek, Boxberger (disappointing year), Stank and Kittredge came in to hold down the shut out. All in all, a brilliant performance. I wish they would hold onto Cishek. That sidearm slider he throws is nasty.
Lomo went deep twice. What a year he had. Never thought he would do it. They should keep him around. Plays a solid First Base and seems to like playing in Florida.
Miley was sent home humiliated and shut out. A weird thought swept over me watching the win tonight, yet again this team showed a lot of promise and fell off. Why do I even bother with them? Night in, night out, this stadium empty to the brim and the lighting sucks. Every player we seem to obtain we get rid of. I saw Alex Cobb in the dugout full-well-knowing it was his last weekend in a Rays uniform. Almost feels like when seeing David Price in a Rays uniform for the last time. Odo finished his season 10-8/4.14 ERA/143.1 IP. It's pretty sub par and wouldn't say his value is very high per se but some team would be willing to trade some pieces for him.

Rays 7, Orioles 0.
"Despite us falling off the second half, I would love a sweep this weekend,"
"I love you," Strawberry retorted.
We drove across Gandy.
"You wanna hit this?" Strawberry asked.
I took a puff and contemplated the upcoming winter. Fall doesn't exist in Florida. It lives hot or hotter. Premature summer aka "spring" didn't seem too far away.
"You are weaving in and out of lanes baby!" Strawberry roared.
In the bay I could see a school of dolphins swimming gingerly.

Encountering Kevin Kiermaier one night in the offseason...

I took up to being an Uber driver again because it was easy and the perpetual hang over that plagued me every morning was easier when I could go to/from work as I please.
The night took me into deep downtown Tampa territory. The day will come when the Rays will be down here. I had these people in my car who were leaving Bar Taco and seemed slightly buzzed, probably costed them more than my net worth (not very much).
"God I love these margaritas!" one of them announced.
WOOF.
They were going to Harbor Island, which was once actually a landfill that now gave way to the elite and wealthy here in Tampa ergo the wealthy live on shit. Are the wealthy so intelligent after all? We rolled up on a series of townhouses that seemed relatively moderate and humble.
I will never own anything this expensive in my life.
"Goodbye!" one of them said.
I got a ping from someone just down the road and headed toward the house and it read Kevin. A dude in a hat came out and this other guy came hustling out behind him.
"What's up man?" one them said.
Their conversation drifted and my mind wandered.
"So this beer is so good bro," one of them announced.
"Oh yeah?" the other voice said.
"My boy from Durham was telling me about it," the other voice said.
The destination was set to Soho.
For some odd reason, the word Durham resonated in my mind and I looked into the mirror, which was odd considering I never did that. Burning right back at me were a pair of eyes I was all to familiar with on TV.
"Hey, are you Kevin Kiermaier?"
Silence.
"Er...yes," Kevin said softly.
I got slightly excited.
"I tell ya buddy, there's no way you can tell me you like playing at that dump for a stadium,"
He chuckled at the remark.
"Yeah, they could definitely have a change of scenery," he said.
Amen.
"So what do you think about the Tim Beckham trade?"
Random.
"You know man? Tim was one of my best friends, I do not really get why they did that," he replied in disappointment.
"What about Marc Topkin?"
This I was obliged to know.
"Dude, FUCK Marc Topkin. Bro, he is so fat. He always tells the same story every year about my van that I don't own anymore," he laughed.
Cool. I loathe him too. Just like Pinellas County.
Coming out of Spring Training the outfield situation looked really prospective with Mallex, KK and Rasmus and Souza. When that actually did fall into the fold, it was the time I really loved the chemistry of that Rays team.
"I am bar tending tonight. The off season gets boring," he explained.
In reality, I didn't give a fuck about what these players did off the field, it's what they did on the field that mattered.
"That second half killed you guys,"
He gasped out of disappointment.
"Seems to happen a lot to us these past years," he snapped.
"What about Kevin Cash? Do you like him?"
I couldn't help but fire a bunch of questions.
"I like the guy but there are guys who definitely don't like him," he explained.
There was no elaboration but I felt like there was some implication without words.
"You guys play hard, hopefully you get the fuck out of St. Pete sooner than later,"
He laughed and said, "goodbye!"

I drove around Soho momentarily and replayed a couple of images in my mind. If KK didn't get hurt that one game he slid feet first and miss a large chunk of time, how different would the season have been? There was this clown at Tropicana one day harassing KK when he was signing balls for charity and name calling and slandering his character/playing abilities. Most people get jealous of others' success. No wonder I look in the mirror in total resentment of who I am. Mallex seemed like a good fit but he definitely needs more time to season at the Major League level. Dickerson, Souza, Mallex and KK could be a really nice outfield. Peter Bourjos was OK and I really thought it was weird they dumped Shane Peterson and that Brad Miller really is not the answer. They dumped Patrick Leonard who was the minor league's MVP. Logical right? There is word they may enter rebuild mode but what does this actually mean? We play essentially with AAA players as it is, so does this imply we trade off every prospective player? Honeywell? Bauers? Ciuffo? Fox? Genesis? It seems difficult to fathom this team rebuilding because it seems that there are only a handful of Major Leaugers on our club to begin with. They should resign Lomo. He plays good here and seems to like being a Ray. Why don't we trade all of Durham roster for Giancarlo?
My mind wandered as I drove around aimlessly.
So I called Strawberry.
"Baby, I just had Kevin Kiemaier in the car," I explained.
"That's good and all about KK but you better get home and smoke me out. I wanna get high and bang," she demanded.
So that's exactly what I did.

Season Ender and Prison...

I was charged with three accounts of domestic violence and verbal abuse. This is all started when I was at this Irish bar off Dale Mabry and Euclid. It was your typical scene in Tampa where the opposing fans outnumbered the home fans. This is a real rare incident for me but all in all, this is typical here in a transient place like Florida where the northerners come down to colonize and deem Florida home after "ten years I call it home". Whatever the fuck that means. These two clowns in Yankees gear kept antagonizing me and repeatedly mentioned "how many championships do you have?" Sorry bubba, we weren't around since the dinosaurs. Eventually it escalated and I stabbed one of them with my fork in his neck but nothing fatal. The city of lights was turned down a notch. I was only given a three month sentence and Strawberry bailed me out in a bond for a meager 300,000$. Back to the motel for me. The Cubs series was even worse, if not arguably, THE worst scene in humanity. One buffoon after another showed in Cubs gear but could probably not name you their 2014 Opening Day Starter nor could probably tell you how Chris Archer came over from them for Matt Garza or how David DeJesus wound up here? I saw one moron after another with a Cubs shirt on with a Rays jersey over it or the other way around. Riddle me this, riddle me that...have you ever even been to Chicago or the FUCKING STATE OF ILLINOIS? There is no such thing as a lovable loser. The Devil Rays were awful and there was nothing to love about that except Lou Pinella's rage, Wade Boggs crushing 3,000 and just watching Crime Dog do his thing. Maddon was great but our owner let him walk and lo and behold he takes another trash team and goes all the way.

This town...

Needless to say, I was going over the trades from the trade deadline and the front office. They dealt Tim Beckham for a pitching prospect. At first I was jubilant about this until he kept crushing with an AL East opponent. Surely Kevin Cash had a foot in getting rid of him. Word is on the street from this fat dude who writes for the Rays there was some bad blood in the mix. That trade will probably come to haunt us. Alex Cobb is now a free agent and will probably end up a Cub. They shipped of Erasmo Ramirez too, which also seemed like a questionable move but in return our pen really looked prime for October until the offense completely vanished. Colby Rasmus retired from baseball because he probably missed hunting and whisky too much, Lomo, Longo, Mallex, Dickerson and Souza kinda dried up and Wilson Ramos just seemed to never figure out his timing. The addition of Cishek and Romo was cool. Blake Snell looked good in his last outing. The biggest blow is probably losing Jim Hickey. Kyle Snyder should slide in nicely but Hick really has a way of developing pitchers (hence why The Rays have been relevant for sometime). Not sure where Rocco is going. There are rumors swirling of Longo being dealt. Can you say Atlanta Braves bound? They have the prospects and money. Honeywell and Archer could be a nice duo. By far the best thing going this offseason is the newly proposed stadium site. I literally cried out of joy when seeing the site Hagan proposed in Ybor and to know that the possibility my team would get out of the worst fucking town in this region would solidify the fact I would never have to set foot in Pinellas County again, where the rich stay rich and baseball does not work in an oversized Sam's Club also known as Tropicana Field. Amen.

"Strawberry, let's go up to McDonald's,"
"Ice cream?" she cried.
I loved this woman.

Tuesday Blues...

Staring into the void of the screen. It isn't until the little things of our daily routines that we find that it can all be shook by a bomb, an act greater that is unfathomable to the average mind or something that is out of reach.
The Rays had been playing good but lost Sunday due to a very good catch by Aaron Judge from a scorching hit off the bat of Evan Longoria. Arch went deep and struck out 13 Yankee hitters. See ya later sucka.
Pushing the Yanks back up into first a half game over Baltimore.
I was feeling nostalgic on this Tuesday morning and found myself quietly smoking cigarette out back in the black tar pavement that lines around the building. The mind ran astray with different ideas and sounds. The feeling of my childhood came into sight and how far away it all seemed. A time in life when everything was easy. A time in the life of a young innocent mind when one isn't conscious of the things happening around me. So what if The Rays lost or won? Why did I bother writing down all of these silly ideas and keeping score of something so mundane and simple as baseball? Those ballplayers go home to their expensive homes, families and beautiful lives while poor people like me feed the American service industry. I knew that. Perhaps that's why if the opportunity ever arose to hang out with one of those dudes, I'd kindly pass the opportunity up for someone else who actually gave a damn because well, I didn't.
Thoughts ran off into the sky again...

Tuesday night The Rays essentially lost due to a passed ball from youngster Ryne Stanek. That essentially blew the game and Odo went pretty good. Gave up some hits but all in all, looked solid and the thug he is. The Yankees won and jumped up in the division 1.5 games up over Baltimore. Still, I smoked and tried to forget. Childhood. There is that word again. When all was simple and easy. Gratis as it were. The smiles of children. The opening cracks of plastic bottle caps of Coke bottles. The sweat rolling off the forehead in the park as we stuffed our mouths with chocolate and other processed goods. These were the days when anyone could buy a house -whether they could afford it or not- as the balloons draped over the wooden picnic benches. This all seems so vague and almost eternity ago. Why did it matter what I wrote about these Tampa Bay Rays as there are bombs being dropped in The Middle East? As there is more slaughter in England? More rape and plundering here in these United States of America headed by a total madman?
I inhaled and tried to turn off the cranium sponge.
Alex Cobb going tonight against Shoemaker. Mike Trout is in town and nothing makes sense anymore...

Godzilla throwing meatballs and a cubicle dream...

The screen glows in front of my face and I am staring into the void that my fellow countrymen do. It's often struck me queer, are people unable to live with the contentedness of their thoughts and actually deal with their thoughts? This repetition was killing my fingers and it seemed every fifteen minutes I had to run off to the pisser to take a short meditation on the toilet.
"Hi, you are the new guy?" a voice comes out of the nowhere.
Back at my desk.
"You guessed right,"
My attention went to the person. A dude.
"How are you liking it?" he asked taking note of my tie.
The tie was blue and yellow.
"Is that a trick question?"
We laughed in unison.
"Let's have lunch," he demanded.
So we did.

We met in the parking lot around 12:00 and he picked me up in his red Charger. There was some talk of going to McDonalds but we settled on this little Spanish joint in the cut that you'd have to kinda know the knowledge of the area in order to find. I felt like early European settlers slashing our way through the vast wilderness that Tocqueville wrote about. By the first ten minutes of sitting with someone in the car, you get the general idea of what kind of personality someone has. He loved talking about himself and had a manipulative way of trying to twist his stories into something that was clearly not true.
I ordered a long Cuban sandwich.
"You gotta girl?" he asked.
"I think so,"
There were no onions in my sandwich.
"I just need someone to talk to bro, I mean you are a good listener, you are smart,"
They used American cheese.
"Bro I've been with this girl for years and our families are pressuring us to get married but I don't know if I can afford it and she is kind of controlling," he explains.
Kind of like Archer's fastball control.
"I love her and all. She is awesome in bed but she never lets me hang out with my boys," he continued.
Something told me had didn't have any "boys" to hang out with.
"I don't really have friends,"
Run with no tribe.
"If I go out, she texts me every five minutes and thinks I'm out doing something bad," he cried while biting into his sandwich.
"Then don't do anything wrong,"
The coffee was good too. Cafe con leche.
"I was doing a lot of pills and coke," he sighed.
I was too but I never got caught.
"Yeah,"
"What should I do bro?" he asked.
Fuck if I knew bubba.
"Get a hobby?"
He laughed but I was sincere.
"You are a cool guy bro,"
No I wasn't.

Saturday night. Big game. Andriese took on Tanaka. We got to him opening day and were hoping to exploit that. Bottom 1st. C-Dicks CRUSHES one. 1-0. Top 2nd Aaron Judge LAUNCHES one. 1-1. Bottom 2nd Jesus HATH SPOKEN DOUBLE IN A RUN MY SONS. THALL SHALL DO. 2-1. Bottom 3rd Longo CRUSHES one with that smooth swing to left field. Tanaka nearly crying. 3-1. Godzilla aint saving you bubba. Top 4th Chase Headly doubles in two runs. Ugh. 3-3. Bottom 4th. Corey Dickerson GOES YARD on a three run bomb. 6-3. TAMPA BAY. Top 5th. Scary Gary launches one to center. 6-4. The New York transplants go wild. They only know two emotions anyhow. Drunken and disorderly. New York state of mind. Illmatic. Bottom 5th. KK singles in a run and Lomo singles in two more. Tanaka is sent home yet again to the beach. He was extremely vetted out of this one. NOT fake news bubs. Some plunking began when fuck boy Tommy Layne sent a fastball to our All-Star C-Dicks. Sup bitch? Like the class we are, he walked it off. Warnings sent out. Top 6th. Andriese sends a fastball to Aaron Judge's ribs. SUCK IT. Judge walked it off because his intellect is the size of a peanut. "I like the beach and steak," he commented after the game. Andriese ejected. Bottom 5th OG Devil Rays manager Larry Rothschild was ejected for being a geriatric and inept. This followed up with a little display of slight mental down syndrome when Joe Girardi was inspired by Picasso's blue period and pained home plate with his hands. I shall call it "my trash". Ejected. You can find him autographing baseballs at an Arby's in South St. Pete. No matter. Top 6th. Headly adds on but this wasn't enough because former Yankee (and born again Ray) Chase Whitley dealt to this old team with his beard because here in Tampa Bay we believe in being yourself. Not a robotic tool. A-Rod reference. Wanna hear a joke? A-Rod's career! Andriese was ejected but left with a standing ovation 5.0 IP 6 H 5 R 5 ER 0 B 5 K 2 H. Treat yourself to something nice. He pitched up in the zone and those Yankee hitters made hard contact but he still limited the damage. Chase Whitely following up with 3.0 IP with 1 H against his former team, that was impressive too. Of all people Jumbo Diaz shut the door with 2 K 1 B and had Brett Gardner ground out. Meanwhile The Boston Fuck Heads lost pushing the Rays into third place. Only 4.0 back out of first. YES.
If Snell and Honeywell/Faria come to the rise, what happens next? Time for a run? Matt Duffy coming up? Ramos on the way? Tommy Hunter playing too? Oh my god, I'm starting to believe...
"Yeah the guys played good and well, yeah, you know we're like playing sound baseball," Kevin Cash says.
Nine times outta ten I hate him but not this weekend. Looking for a sweep. Send them home miserable and unwanted because your salaries aint buying you a championship.

We went back to work and smiled.

Weekend Burger Fest and Yankee fans...

When a Yankee fan says to anyone else, "how many World Series rings do you have?"
My mind tends to tilt into philosophical mode. That is like saying how often did Moses hang out with Michael Jackson? Irrelevant.
I found myself in a little cubical on a Saturday morning and drying up from all of the sweat from the heat outside and the booze from my pores. Office life is one that is completely extraterrestrial to me. The guy training me stunk of dog piss and clearly loved his weed.
"You blaze up before work bro?" he asked.
"I warmed up my coffee,"
Silence.
"So you watch that show last night?" he asked.
This was a form of politeness.
"I only watch Fox Sports Sun,"
He took a liking to this statement.
"Oh you like The Rays huh?" he laughed.
Correction.
"I breathe, eat and shit Rays Baseball,"
We both laughed in unison and got to the training.
The job was mindless and repetitive but aren't most jobs? You learn to just tune your mind off while in the vicious circle of repetition and let it roam to the vast fields of the intellect, well, what little was left. Ever so often when he'd leave to go "do something" I'd quickly scan through the stats and highlights of last night's game.

Erasmo took the hill against Severino. The Yanks jumped out early Top 1st thanks to Castro. Good player. Bottom 1st Lomo answers back. 1-1 tie. Come to papa. Top 3rd Jacoby Ellsbury doubles in a run 2-1 Yanks lead. Ugh. The Rays stranded a couple of base runners and once with the bases juiced and came up empty. Maybe it's me but Colby Rasmus took some swings that made him look like he sincerely was not trying. Not good. Better feed him his moonshine. No matter. Lomo sac flies in a run. 2-2 tie. Then RICKIE WEEKS JR. knocks on down the third base line and a diving Ronald Torreyes putting the Rays up 4-2. Better put the diaper back on in the dug out bubba. Top 8th Ryne Stanek gives up a two run bomb to ex-Card TRASH Matt Holliday 4-4 tie. It's all good. Wipe your butt and flush the toilet. Bottom 8th. Tyler Clippard on the bump. Homie always looks constipated on the mound. Walks D-Nor and KK then Longo singles in D-Norr. Rays Up. 5-4. Top 9. THUG Alex Colome shuts the door and discards The Yankee trash. All of the transplants from THERE went home miserable and Rays fans stoked. SUP? Erasmo was phenomenal. Kudos bubba.

I felt happy and got a cup of coffee.

Friday Night is for Pizza, Motorhead and Erasmo gotta keep the ball low in the zone...

All brilliant men are lost in the veins of history. The quote seemed to linger in my mind today as the sweat dripped off my forehead and into my eyelids. AC was out. Damn. Here in Florida this was virtually impossible to live without. Strawberry absolutely refused to jump in the car and I cut down on my cigarettes yet increased the whiskey intake. Life finds a way.
Ubering for the night was out of the question for now, so I needed to make some money in order to fix this little AC issue. No one wants to ride in an oven on four wheels.
"Try this one," Strawberry told me earlier in the day.
I went to this little office out in Brandon. For some reason, I always end up out here.
The problem with wearing a tie to this little interview was I'd be sweating liters of water prior to entering. Fuck it. Gotta try right? If you never try, you die.
I opened the door into the cubical zoo.
A cute girl answered who was no older than twenty years of age and seemed to have three inches of makeup to hide her face from the world or painting it to beauty.
"Hello there, I am here for an interview,"
She seemed disturbed by all of the sweat.
"Oh, okay. Hang on, let me call HR," she replied.
The office was stained with Tampa's finest. Women in tank tops with tattoos, older men squinting at the screen and their potbellies adding an extra distance from the torso to the desk and one stunning looking woman approaches me.
Uh oh.
"You must be..." she began.
"Yes, that's me,"
We shook hands and went into the little conference room. On the wall was a photo of an old dude with a date. Probably dead.
"So we are..." she began.
My mind ran astray. Erasmo was going tonight against Severino and this series was crucial.
"And..."
What is critical for Erasmo tonight is pound the lower part of the zone and be extra careful when pitching to Aaron Judge. A monster. Good thing Odo is missing this weekend. These Yankee hitters love the upper part of the zone.
"But..."
I honestly believe this series can be a very critical point in this season. If the Rays want to claw back into the standings, they need to take two outta three. PERIOD.
"So..."
Also this weekend, we need a lot of production out from Longo, D-Rob, Rasmus, KK, D-Nor and Souza. Our pen needs to be extra on it because this lineup is fire. STILL the last series they played in Tampa Bay, they get mauled and humiliated. Tanake walked out axed. Looking extra at this newly acquired Michael Martinez. Brad Miller to DL. Meh, not that bummed about it. He is sloppy at 2B and he strikes out at a crazy rate. His power has decreased but walks a lot. It will probably do him some good.
"Are you..."
Ramos took BP today. YES. PLEASE COME BACK SOON. This Tim Beckham and Brad Miller combo has got to go.
"Excuse..."
I just really wanted them to win. This feels like a playoff game.
"Yes, I will, absolutely will," I replied emphatically.
What did she just say?
"That's great!" she replied.
Checking back in.
The thing with job interviews I learned over the years (I could reelem' and dealem') just feed them a bunch of bullshit, sprinkle it in with euphemisms (makes you sound intelligent) and try to relate to the interviewer. For the most part, they were rarely qualified to give them but the key is find their weakness and exploit them. You'll have them at your mercy and hand gesturing plays into this too. Psychology can be learned on the streets or in your car (in my case).
"Great, we think we like what we see," she concluded.
I barely spoke but seemed to hit every spot in the zone, just like the way Erasmo, Andriese and Archer are going to do this weekend.
"Cool,"
I went to 7-11 and bought a French merlot from the Provence region and warmed up even more.

Rays clobber Boston & Cleveland and Strawberry wants to take "a break"...

"It's not you, it's me," she explains.
My heart sank into my chest.
"What do you mean?"
Silence.
"You are great, we are great, I just don't know if you are going to give me what I want," she explains some more.
Truth be told, I wanted The Rays to make a run for October.
"Are you mad at me?" she moaned.
I didn't know what I felt.
"But baby,"
It was like inserting a verbal template into my brain. The words just came out automatically, but reality was I did not need her. Sure, we got along great and had fun and had wild crazy sex all over the place but were we truly in love and interconnected?
"I just think that..." she continued.
The fruits of solitude gave me a peace of mind not many other souls did. Day in, day out, I would have these bitter married couples come into my car from Ubering (they weren't all bitter though, just the majority) that seemed completely discontent with one another.
"And..." she said.
The scenario usually played out as so...the man seemed more content with what was blaring from the little screen in front of him and the woman was interested in my little story telling from various freaks and weirdos who crossed my path on a daily basis (or the roles swapped).
"So..." she cried.
There is always an exception! One couple came in who was madly in love. What made these two stick out? Understanding of one another.
"Okay?" she concluded.
"Okay,"
She pecked me on the cheek and left the crummy apartment off 7th Avenue in Ybor City. Would I ever see her again? The feeling that consumed me wasn't depression, loss nor happiness...simply unfathomable. Pondering this for a second, I walked down to the corner store, got a two liter of coke, a bottle of Jack Daniels and began gazing over the notes from this week thus far:

Sunday The Rays were still in hell. Hell nearly froze over and the rains poured down from the mortal world. Boston is awful. Andriese took to the mound against awkward lefty Drew Pomeranz. Key word of the day...OFFENSE. Top 1st. Longo sac flies a run. 1-0. Bottom 1st. Xander B. answers with a double 1-1. They ran off shithead somewhere in the 3rd or 4th. "Shoulder pain" or some weak ass euphemism. Beat it bubba. The game was close until the 9th. Rickie, Timmy, Jesus, KK and Souza put an end to any optimism in the Red Sox fan base and sent them home miserable...just like when they lost the Post Season last year and Lard Ass Ortiz was retired (crying). Good riddance puto! The pink uniforms for Mother's Day ignited the bats. Andriese went 5.0 IP 2 R 2 ER 5 K. That deserves a beer!
Monday into Cleveland. Chris Archer nearly imploded the first inning giving up six runs BUT The Rays battled back. Slowly but surely. KK got the offense going followed up with Brad Miller, Longo and Lomo. The only blemish was from Jumbo gave up a bomb to Lindor Fancisco that essentially put them ahead. Kudos for them battling through Andrew Miller and Cody Allen. Peter Bourjos homered off Allen putting us close at 7-8 but Allen used that curveball to put away D-Nor on a pop fly in foul territory. A well-fought loss. Archer did settle in and helped keep the pace. He took accountability for the walks and runs. Love you boo.
Tuesday...Odo against Salazar. Remember when we wrecked them in The Wild Card game? Shut out? Oh those days. No matter...Top 2nd Redneck Rasmus goes deep with that smooth swing on a fastball. Sup? Top 3rd. D-Norr and C-Dicks go back-to-back putting Rays up 3-0. Top 5th. C-Dicks goes DEEP again. MAMMOTH SHOT. Top 6th T-Bex goes deep 6-1. Kipnis added bottom 3rd. Bottom 6th. Edwin and Carlos Santana add on 6-4. Odo gettin' roughed up. Still the pen held their own and The Rays went on to win. YES!
"I am glad the pen did their job," Odo later confessed.
Me too playa.
Wednesday afternoon. Alex Cobb against Tomlin. Top 2nd. Jesus and C-Dicks put us up on the board. Top 3rd. Lomo hits a BOMB then T-Bex adds on. 6-0. Sup Ohio? Bottom 3rd. Kipnis and (new MLBer) Zimmer tack on. 6-2. Ruh oh. Bottom 5th Michael Brantley doubles in a run. 6-3. It's so good to see him playing, oh wait, no it's not, I hate him and EVERYONE not on our roster. Cobber labored but got threw like the bulldog he is and left his team in a good spot to win. Top 9th. Jesus preached to his flock "let there be homers" and he doeth. 7-3. Bottom 9th. Colome on the hill. Bradley Zimmer homers for his first MLB homer. Congrats kid. Too bad y'all fittin to lose SUCKA. Colome ends that little celebration by allowing another well hit ball to center when KEVIN KIERMAIER ROBS HOMEBOY KIPNIS OF TACKING ON and sends them people home miserable and me a happy man. Rays Up. I never doubted my dawg KK. Love you too boo boo.
Cobber finished 7.0 IP 6 H 3 R 3 ER 1 BB 7 K. Glorious. Simply glorious. Off day on Thursday which meant COCAINE USE.

Meditating a bit on the notes from the week thus far it sidetracked me from the reality in which I was swimming in but the booze was flowing through the mind and spirit like no other and I smiled when passing out on the couch when I hear a door knock.
Sluggishly I make way to the door unable to walk straight. No Ubering tonight.
Strawberry.
"I love you baby,"
We kissed and made love sideways, upside down and vertical as we passed the bottle back and forth.

.

This week in review and a woman prays for me...

I found myself in a parking lot in an Olive Garden when this bug eyed lady began spewing words that sounded like someone hypnotized (or tripping on bath salts).
"Repeat this prayer after me," she insisted.
"Wait, you want me to repeat what you are saying?"
"Yes," she said sternly.
"Oh Jesus, please help me," she began.
"Oh Jesus, please help The Rays,"
Record scratch.
"What?" she snapped.
"They are playing like shit lady and I'm about to check myself into the nearest insane asylum if shit don't turn around,"
Silence.
"Get the fuck out of my car,"
She abides.
I drove down State Road Sixty and headed towards downtown Tampa. Brandon really is a sprawling nightmare. Not too far up the road was Coppertail Brewing Co. where I parked and waited for the next flock to jump into my car. I had big plans for Strawberry for Mother's Day which included pie and multiple orgasms. The key to any woman's heart...making them scream. As I waited in the parking lot, I reminisced over this past week in Rays Baseball, it was hard for me not to weep and take another sip of whiskey in the flask. There's nothing wrong with drinking and driving...just don't get caught.

It all really started on Monday when the mighty Royals came to town and we managed to get crushed. 3-7. Spotty defense and errors by Kevin Kiermaier. He collected three errors this home stand. Awesome. This may have been one of the worst weeks in his career. Funny how "fans" turn on him so quickly. Former Ray Nat Karns looked great this week for The Royals and was even sporting former Rays' number Matt Moore 55. Can you tell I miss them both? We are poor, which is to say, "small market". Tuesday we managed to lose this game when they were up 5-0 at some point then go ahead and lose 6-7. Wednesday rolls around and Chris Archer goes 8.0 plus innings of shut down baseball and Jumbo manages to give up one run in the 9th. 12-1 Rays win. Arch plunked Salvi Perez who cried and moaned but still crushed the next game. Thursday's game with Oddo on the mound who kept us in the game against a sizzling Vargas BUT we still managed to lose this game too when the pen imploded 0-6 on Senior Citizen Day ( aka the only people who go to games Monday through Thursday). Friday rolls around in the worst place on planet earth...Fenway Park. I'd rather jump into a pile of giraffe shit than be among THEM in THAT place. If there is a hell unfathomable to the human mind, it is Fenway Park. People like David Ortiz and things like racism are promoted there. I'll take the confines of our crappy dome any day. Needless to say, Alex Cobb led the charge and was looking good. They were up 5-0 when, well, we did what we do best...implode. Brad Miller is descending quickly into Dan Uggla status. Your stirrups aint gonna save you bubba. Commits two errors on one play. ONE PLAY! Cobber made a throwing error. Colby Rasmus and Lomo had some sort of issue on a routine pop fly which began the mess. Maybe Rasmus couldn't understand Lomo language, "blahahagagahagabooboo."
The Boston Fuck Heads began tacking on and The Rays barely survived this one. Cobb did OK and Colome was called on to get the last four outs. THUG LIFE SUCKA.
"Yeah, we just gotta like yeah, defense," captain personality Kevin Cash would later confide after the game.
You know what's cool about Alex Cobb? He takes accountability.
Saturday rolls around and Blake Snell goes up against Lakeland's finest Chris Sale. Lomo hit a bomb off him. 1-0. That was quickly erased at some point 2-1. In some other inning there is walk to D-Nor when KEVIN KIEMAIER HITS A TWO RUN BOMB OFF CHRIS SALE. 3-2 Rays. I watched on in awe. Silly me though...a shortly lived dream quickly evolved into a nightmare when Snell imploded -again- allowing The Boston Fuck Heads to go up 6-3 AND another loss. Craig Kimbrel is good. Chris Sale and Craig Kimbrel are the only two people on THAT roster who are human to me. The Rays are edging closer to the bottom. Keep it coming boys!
"I know what I'm doing wrong but I just need to fix it," Blake says after the game.
Until you got demoted...SUCKA.
Maybe the pink socks warped his brain or the obsolete fastball command.
This team does four things...strike out, hit homers, walk or commit errors (or all of the above in one game).  The pen is atrocious. Erasmo Ramirez slots in for the fifth guy. Stanek gets called up. Mallex Smith is still in Durham. Brent Honeywell and Jose Deleon are looking good. Matt Duffy is making his way back slowly. I wish they'd DFA Kevin Cash and Marc Topkin and Brad Miller.

Thinking about this in the parking lot, I got depressed and went inside to Coppertail. I texted Strawberry to meet up and she did. What a gal! We bought some deep fried food from the food truck, ate dinner, laughed and watched the sunset over downtown Tampa. Life was still good.

Uber is the key to world peace and a Cobber matinee

I was already running around the city doing some Ubering. Sunday morning primarily consisted of people going to church, brunches or leaving their one night stand and/or these three in some three-step-fashion.
"Hey buddy, take me to this church, my family is waiting on me," this guy explains.
The trip took me out somewhere near Town N' Country.
"Yes sir, the Lord hath given us a great day," he says.
Silence.
"What church do thou go to?" he questions.
 Pretty sure I wasn't on LSD or amphetamine but homie sounded like Shakespeare.
"I don't,"
More silence.
"Have thou found God in your heart?" he asks.
In my world, Mike Trout is God.
 "God has no place for me people like me,"
The conversation went flat and he didn't seem very happy with my answer. I dropped him off and when he left he says:
"God bless."
I looked and burped out loud.
This depressed me slightly, so I took a little sip from the flask and went to admire the Bay a bit. Until...next rider.
They were a couple who were without a shadow of a doubt hungover and/or still drunk.
"You piece of shit! I saw you looking at her last night! I know you gotta thing for Nicole!" the girl screamed.
Better not ask how their day is going.
"No baby, no! It isn't like that"," he tried to reconcile.
Just follow the GPS bubba.
"I swear, why do I put up with this?!" she cried.
Tears were streaming down her face.
"Rough night?"
He had the look on his face of a defeated man who was slowly losing grip on his relationship and possibly his Sunday morning sanity.
"You have no idea," he murmured.
I dropped them off at Harbor Island where all of the houses are gated and they are all modeled the same. Call me queer, but don't they get bored without originality?
No matter...back on the prowl.
The next pair I picked up were from Kuwait. They were studying at The University of Tampa.
"What do you think of America?"
The question always fascinated me towards foreigners.
Two boys no older than twenty.
"It's okay. People here drink too much and are very full of themselves," one of them says.
I hooked a left on Kennedy Avenue.
"The people here are not very cultured and when we tell them Kuwait they do not even know where that is so we don't even bother really telling anyone but no one really asks or listens to what we have to say," the other one proclaims.
We arrived.
"Very insightful. Thanks guys. God bless!"
They looked on in confusion, shrugged their shoulders and got out.
Just another American in America baby.
I took a sip of whiskey and felt it run down my throat and let the inners warm up. The only think missing right now is Strawberry's cute ass giving me a peck on the cheek. Cloud nina sucka. As I did this, I tuned onto the most wretched sports radio channel in North America full of buffoons who clearly take too many steroids, need to leave Hooters' patios, have to realize that Joe Maddon is not returning and actually do not watch Rays Baseball (with the fine exception of Neil Solondz, Andy Freed, Dave Wills and crew) nor any baseball for that matter, need to realize Joe Maddon is not returning, that Marc Topkin is an overweight pathetic portrait of a human being that is paid to write endless nonsense, which is to say, WDAE 620.

Alex Cobb was going up against Joe Biagini. Who? Former Reds, White Sox, Marlins trash Matt Latos was DFA'd because well, that's what happens when you are trash. Hoping to build off that last great start in Miami, Cobber needs to jump ahead and pound the zone. The Jays pen was pretty efficient and The Rays offense was held down the entire game essentially. C-Dick broke through bottom 3rd with a single. 1-0 Rays. Top 6th Russel Martin singles in a run and Colby Rasmus juggles it. 1-1 tie. Top 8th Darwin Barney (yes, his last name is fucking Barney) hits a solo shot into LF. 2-1 Toronto. Cobb goes 8.0 IP 4 H 2 R 2 ER 2 BB 3 K 1 HR. This all went to waste as The Rays offense couldn't muster anything when threatening against trash Osuna. Two on, two out bottom 9th and D-Rob strikes out swinging and that's your game. Another defeat by one run. "I just executed it in the wrong spot," Cobb would say after the game.
Better enjoy Cobb pitching in a Rays uniform because come trade deadline his ass is out the door.
"Tough loss, yeah, tough loss and you know like we couldn't like you know, yeah," Great Leader Kevin Cash says without wearing his Rays jersey (does he ever?). It's very frustrating all of these games. They jump ahead and implode. Colby Rasmus made some pretty questionable defensive plays in LF. Homie better tighten up. Steven Souza Jr. is slowly returning to form, that is to say, striking out  A LOT.

I slammed the keys down, got depressed and drank myself to sleep.