Welcome to the MLB Star Power Index – a weekly enterprise that determines with terrible authority which players are dominating the current sporting air of the times, at least according to the narrow perceptions of this miserable scribe. While her presence on this list is often festive in nature, it can also be for the purpose of lamentation or ridicule. The players listed are not in any particular order, just like the phone book.
It’s transport week at SPI. This is not the case by great design but rather because of the accidental ties that unite the two players honored in this episode. Nevertheless, yes, it is transport week. Let’s get started.
Major League Baseball reliever / High Plains Wanderer Andrew Chafin has already graced these pages due to his research for the type of car that requires you to carry nothing more than the state’s minimum auto insurance coverage. . Since the last time he darkened our door, Chafin has been swapped with the Oakland A’s, which means he’s in need of alternate transportation and / or lodging. Please testify:
It is not surprising that Mr. Chafin turned out to be an expert in Sonny Crockett alive. Likewise, it is not surprising that Mr. Chafin honors Holy Week Busch Lightâ¦
â¦ By offering a rack of thirst in the Finder’s Price.
Most of the time, however, we should allow ourselves to be lifted up on seagull wings by the thought of Andrew Chafin kicking a nylon-strap folding chair on the deck of a 1971 Nautiline barge. 28 feet. Sliding glass door access to the bar? Oak paneling on the windows? Outdrive rebuilt, and it comes with a dog? Also included is a case of STP in the head when the long block V8 engine requires care and power? Spare poop bridge secured with bungee cords? Woo wee, brother, that’s a bit yachting.
Andrew Chafin likes to drop anchor after catching a pair of white sturgeon and drifting on his pool mattress. He runs string through the hollow middle of a water noodle, then ties it around the edge of his dented Coleman cooler – the one with a working hinge, a “Let the Good Times Roll” sticker on the lid. and a decal of Papa Smurf flipping the bird to the side. This way, the cold beer floats by its side. When the sunburn first hits, he knows the fish has marinated long enough in Worcestershire sauce and Dr Pepper. He paddles to the Nautiline.
While a sturgeon cooks on the grill, he shares a beer with the other. “Thank you for sparing me. Broadnax is the name,” said the sturgeon just before taking a long shot on his Busch Light.
“10-4, good mate,” said Andrew Chafin. “I’ll eat the other guy, then we’ll play cards.” Let me know when you need to be home, and I’ll get you started.
“Catch and release,” says Broadnax, who then crushes the empty box between his pectoral fins.
“You got it, my brother.”
Just before Andrew Chafin, the full-screen five-card stud skill, won the last doubloon Broadnax carried in his stomach, a storm arrived from the west. âHmm,â said Andrew Chafin. âNo good weather for swimming. You might want to spend the night here. “
âI think you’re right,â Broadnax said.
Hours later, Andrew Chafin woke up with a bubbling hunger that not even half a hot Busch Light and six powdered mini-donuts could quench. He walked over to the pool mattress that Broadnax was sleeping on. He urged him to wake up with the Pointe des Vans in checkerboard pattern he was still sleeping in. âI’m hungry,â said Andrew Chafin. “The plans have changed.”
Broadnax gasped as Andrew Chafin lifted the fish bat over his head. “But … but … what about the capture and release?”
âYes,â said Andrew Chafin, dealing a fatal blow to Broadnax’s head. “Your soul is now released.”
Andrew Chafin, coxswain of the four winds, toasted Broadnax just right, popped a pair of Busch Lights into his beer drinker helmet and listened to the waters of San Francisco Bay gently lapping against the barge – the pleasure boat – which he now called the USS Broadnax.
Continuing the pace of Transportation Week, please deeply savor the reliever cart recently seen during baseball activities at the Tokyo Olympics:
As you can see, this is former MLB goalie Jumbo Diaz swaddled in Corinthian leather sumptuous enough to make Ricardo Montalban quit. his Chrysler Cordoba under a viaduct as a bloody homage to the mere rumor of such an enclosure cart. The accessories are all in place – the diamond-shaped baseball floor mat in evocative pastoral green, the side mirror for maximum travel safety, the digital call-to-action display up front and the livery driver attentive and professionally dressed.
Also note that Mr. Diaz quickly settled into the giant glove’s loving pocket and adopted a way of resting that suggests he is fully aware that the weekend is all night before a day when you don’t have to wake up at a specific time:
In better days, when we were better people, the reliever carts were a reliable presence within This, Our Baseball, but since then things – including us – have gotten worse. So here is the nameless paladin at the Tokyo Games who made the decision to place this reliever car – this pleasure boat on earth – among us.