Thoughts From The Back Of The Waffle House
by Jim Sells
It seems that the muscle attached to that $28 million pecker-toral area is troubling Big Rog (yeah, we're tight like that). He missed the White Sox, where the nuclear meltdown possibility with him and Ozzie (the Deathwatch is still on, bitch!) in the same ballpark . . . well, let's just say I was just drooling'. However, he's now lined up to make his first start against the Pirates, which is really just another AAA start. Sorry, Bucs' fans but that's the truth. Great park, great fans (what's left of them) and shitty and miserly ownership. Damn, it used to be Sister Sledge, Willie Stargell and cocaine. Now, it's you, the beer guy and crickets.
Ejections seem to be on everyone's mind lately. Here's Bobby Cox one or two away from the all-time record but I can't be precise 'cause he may be tossed between when I transcribe these fever dreams and when you read them. The viral video of the Mississippi Braves' manager Philip Wellman being ejected has been number one with a bullet over the past few days. If you haven't seen it, Google it now! The hand grenade bit is priceless. Just to top it all off, Wellman was the Lookouts' manager for four seasons, the latest being 2003. Nice to see Chattanooga make the news somehow . . . oh yeah, EJECTIONS! Godamighty, Lou Piniella channeled Billy Martin last Saturday, the day after Michael Barrett and Carlos Zambrano fought for the heavyweight championship IN THE CUBS' DUGOUT! You must, must be shitting me. Team falling apart, fights on the bench, hemorrhoids . . . I know! Let's pitch a bitch and kick dirt all over the third base umpire (who looked ready to stomp some old man ass, believe you me). Cubs fans, you get what you deserve. Stay home and don't watch on WGN either. Otherwise, the baseball equivalent of that brutal prison sex that you are on the catching end of will continue with NO lube. Roughly a cool $300 mil was invested over the off-season and it looks like they would've been better served going to Pimlico and trying for the trifecta. Next time just sign the Centobites and save time, huh?
Real quick: the Braves are still hanging in there with all kinds a problems; the Yanks are sniffing around Arlington, seeing what it would take to get Mark Teixeira away from the Rangers; the Brewers are STILL there, people . . . told ya. The NL West will be a bloodbath with body parts and uniform pieces found everywhere when it's all over.
No musical revelations this week. I'm just here to tell you that anyone who writes two pieces as sublime as "Johnny and Mary" and "Looking for Clues" has to be taken seriously. The voice that I heard at the age of six wailing Moon Martin's "Bad Case of Loving You" was unreal. My God, with all the treble being upped by producers of that era (in order to sound better on AM, natch), it literally pinned my ears back. Robert Palmer was a badass when it came to singles and some of his albums also stacked up well. "Riptide", "Pride", and "Clues" were all phenomenal and widely ignored for the most part. His blues album, "Drive", was superb. However, all anyone will remember will be the Power Station singles (and videos, for my era), the Identical Girl videos - "Addicted To Love" and "Simply Irresistible" and "Bad Case of Loving You". Too damn bad for the unwashed. They are the people who only know Warren Zevon from "Werewolves of London". Do yourself a favor - get "Live At The Apollo" (or if the gods smile on you with a copy of "Maybe It's Live") and turn it up pretty loud with some good wine and your Other, ya know, the one that makes you you, completes the puzzle, soothes your soul . . . you get the idea. Anyway, groove out. Robert Palmer's music really said a lot that I didn't understand until I had a lot more scars on my liver and miles on my feet. Fine music for people with mileage . . .
I gotta go - Lou Piniella asked me to score him some Valiums.