Tuesday, August 2, 2011

An Open Letter to Lyle Overbay, Batman Derails My Video Career

Hey jags, I'm back again to bring yinz some more of that unadulterated, off-color input yinz crave. Sorry for some of the downtime: I've been waiting to get my video up, but my movie guy is currently working on the set for The Dark Knight Rises, and getting spit on by Christian Bale and acting as a human bridge so Liam Neeson doesn't have to step in a puddle are crucial contributions to the film's success. Yinz will just have to wait a little while longer. Anyway, let's get moving.

Hey Lyle, Just Leave Your Key on the Kitchen Counter Unfiltered

The Buccos lost yesterday, even with Chuck K in attendance, setting them back to just one game above .500 and with a tough road ahead to get themselves back to the top of the division. As depressing as that was, it was great to see the Pirates crush the odds put out by Vegas, mustering an army of runs (three) to overcome the 2.5 over-under and show fans that the clubhouse is not, in fact, suffering from a muscle dystrophy epidemic. If nothing else, my bet got me another case of beer to incite my vulgarity-laden tirades.

All three runs were batted in by one man -- Derrek Lee, who was acquired Sunday via a trade with the Orioles and hit two home runs last night, including a bomb to center off of geriatric fuck and former teammate Kerry Wood.

Without a doubt, Lee hit those home runs out of sheer exuberance to be playing with the Pirates, as evidenced by the statements he made to the press after the trade:

"They are playing good. They turned it around, so good for them. I'm still playing baseball, so that's always a good thing. It would be exciting if we won the World Series."

Lee is either a master of the understatement, or his ma lived by the maxim, "If you ain't got nothing good to say, then shut the hell up," or however it goes. Unless people were threatening to break his legs with a crowbar, which honestly may happen in parts of Baltimore, it's not particularly encouraging when a player is content because of the simple fact that he is "still playing baseball," only to conclude with the afterthought that it would be "exciting" if his team (at least Lee used "we" that time) won the World Series.

Luckily for the Pirates, MLB belongs to the great pyramid of major professional sports in the United States, in which managers, players, and other staff are shuffled so regularly that people only have the attention span to give a flying fuck about what you've done in the past year. So, despite sounding as thrilled as somebody doped up on too much Morphine, Lee is ready to play himself into a lucrative new contract -- likely the last of his career -- that will earn him tens of millions of dollars and get him on the first flight out of Pittsburgh International or fucking Latrobe's airport, for all he cares.

I don't even give a shit, though, if he keeps hitting home runs, particularly at this clip. Lee is hitting .500 now in the National League, with two homers. Let's just say that he plays 50 more games for the Pirates this season, coming up to bat four times per game. If statistics have taught me anything, and they haven't, then I see Lee either hitting another 100 home runs for 114 total and shattering the previous single-season record held by Barry "My hats don't fit no more" Bonds, or shattering his elbow on the very next pitch that comes his way, leading to mass suicide around the city as people are once again subjected to anything that Lyle Overbay does. Remember, you heard it here first.

Speakin of Lyle, this is usual the time where we would pass on our regards to a player moving on and reminisce about how they supported the team or at least had a couple good moments. As such, I have written a letter for Lyle below. At the same time, he don't deserve shit, so I have also translated the letter for a guy of his 'caliber.' Enjoy.

Normal Version:

Dearest Lyle, 

We hope this letter finds you well. Rest assured that we, too, are managing since our ways parted so. 

We sought to take but a brief moment to express our gratitude for that which you have done for the city and the organization. We all appreciate the efforts you put forth on our behalf, and for the wholesome entertainment you provided.

It was an unfortunate series of events that your ties to Pittsburgh were severed so prematurely, and that you were so hastily jettisoned from our very presence. You ebbed a unique, indomitable aura that will never be forgotten. 

Nevertheless, we think fondly upon you being in a better place. Your hardships foregone for a life of simple luxury, endless dreams, and restfulness. 

Wherever you are, may your days be grand and your future bright. Perhaps, someday, the fates will gift us so that our paths cross again.

Best Wishes,

Chuck Kowalski

Version Fit for Lyle Overbay: 

Hey fuckhead,

Hope you're liking your stays at the Quality Inn while you play for Indianapolis. Don't worry -- Lee already hit two home runs, so nobody remembers who you are or will care if you hurl yourself into oncoming traffic. 

Just wanted to take a sec to remind you how fucking awful you were. Anything you did was as repulsive as pure sin, and your disgraceful batting was so sobering at times that I couldn't even get drunk enough to yell slurs or other tasteless nicknames at the opposing outfielders. 

Thank Karstens that they sent you down before you somehow managed to subvert the city's economy -- if only they could have shot you off on an ICBM aimed for the sun. Your play was so uniquely revolting that it killed the fish that have adapted to our disease-infested water sources, polluted for decades upon decades by steel production. The E.P.A. said it's gonna take two millenia before the rivers' ecosystem is fully restored.

Anyway, I imagine you're on a half-broken bus on your way to Des Monies, Iowa, or one of your many other exciting destinations. I figure the carbon dioxide fumes have to be causing hallucinations, so I won't write much more -- if you can even see well enough to read because you certainly couldn't keep your eye on the goddamn ball.

So, assuming you ain't dead, thanks for nothing and please quit baseball as soon as possible -- the local kids are terrified of becoming as bad as you and it's hurting community teams. If you ever come back to Pittsburgh, I hope Derrek Lee chops you in half.

Go Fuck Yourself,

Chuck Kowalski