Brewers? Dodgers? Pshh… please. Keven can keep his brew crew and I’ve seen better trolley dodgers up in San Francisco than Feiman’s beloved boys from La La land. For my money, it’s all about the Marlins.
I understand that the Marlins don’t have many fans, but after I saw this picture of their new manager Ozzie Guillen with his bulldog DH, I was hooked.
Any guy who’s willing to plant a wet one on a mug like that is good in my book. So this spring, I’ll be tuning in for some Hanley, Ramirez, Josh Johnson, Logan Morrison and Heath Bell (yeah, that’s right. New closer, baby!).
I’ve gotta tell you, being a mascot is the life. It gets a little boring during the slow months, but then there are weekends like this past one that make it all worth while. See, while the PoolDawg team was sitting in Colorado freezing their respective posteriors off, I was kickin’ it in the NYC with Gail Glazebrook, Jennifer Barretta and the entire Rack Starz gang (sans Olga Gashkova, who seems to have taken up permanent residence back in the Ukraine.
The trip to New York wasn’t exactly first class (a UPS box? Seriously guys?), it was all red carpet and velvet rope once I got there. That’s right, totally red carpeted it with the ladies, yo!
One the paps were done taking pictures, it was on to Amsterdam Billiards, probably the awesomest pool hall in the entire city. Amsterdam hosted the party, had some sweet eats and absolutely beautiful tables. They were even nice enough to let me get up on the table to chill while the ladies signed autographs for their new calendar.
Honestly, I’m kinda digging this town quite a bit. Who knows, maybe I’ll stick around for a while and see how these ladies roll. We shall see…
With no regular tour and no full time handler, I’m spending less and less time going on adventures. Every once in a while though, the adventures come to me. This was the case today when I was visited by a most rare and exquisite creature. Naturally, I greeted her in the traditional manner (which is apparently not so traditional in the world of unicorns):
I’m not sure where she came from, but man was she sweet. Even though she knew I was lowborn, she still hung out with me (after explaining to me that sniffing someone’s butt is not the proper way to say hello). We hung out for a while and she told me how tough it is to be a unicorn. Apparently her specific breed, known as the Piñata, carries all sorts of candy and sweet treats inside them, so there are always people hanging her brothers and sisters from trees and hitting them until they spill their innards.
After a few hours, she had to go. Something about being the entertainment for a party.
Seriously, someone needs to start taking me on the road again.
