Friday, May 11, 2007

A Cell Phone Rings One Morning in Oakland...

(rubbing eyes) What the...Hello?
(pause) Yeah, uh, DiNardo?
Yeah, who's this?
It's Roy Halladay, calling from Toronto.
Halladay? Crap, man, what time is it?
Well let's see, it's 7:30 here, I guess that makes it, what, about 4:30 where you are?
4:30? In the morning?! F-ing A...
Hey, I'm really sorry, DiNardo. I didn't know who else to call.
Why would you call anyone so early in the morning? And why are you calling me?
DiNardo, I need your help. I'm...well, I'm struggling right know. Maybe you heard, I kinda, um, last night I sort of, um... (sigh)
C'mon man, I don't know what your problem is, but I hardly know you. What do I have to do with anything that happened to you last night?
Well, here's the thing. We played the Red Sox, and well, they knocked me around a bit.
Oh, the Red Sox game. (chuckling) Yeah, I heard about that.
See, here's the problem. I'm just not accustomed to this kind of adversity. It was bad enough that I gave up (mumble) runs in five innings...
Sorry, I didn't get that... say again?
I said, I gave up (mumble) runs in five innings...
How many runs?
Eight, OK? I gave up EIGHT RUNS. There, I said it. Are you happy now? (uncontrolled sobbing)
Oh, jeez, don't go crying. Halladay, I'm serious, stop it. Please. You're embarrassing yourself.
I can't help it, I just don't know... (sniff) I just don't know what to do. Why is this happening to our team? Why is this happening to me? Where do I go from here? What's the meaning of life? I'm just (more sobbing)
Oh, man. OK, what the hell... What are you afraid of, Halladay?
I'm afraid my teammates will turn on me like, um... I don't know how to put this gently, DiNardo, but I'm afraid they might do something mean, like, maybe... Well, remember that time you got locked in my foot locker? I'm afraid of something like that!
What? How did you know about that?
Uh, DiNardo, everybody knows about it. Your buddy Arroyo got wasted after the All-Star game last year and sang a song about it. Between the story and his voice, man, we couldn't stop laughing...
Now wait just a minute. Are you telling me that this has become my reputation in major league baseball? Getting shut into the so-called Great Doc Halladay's foot locker? Son of a... In case you haven't noticed, Halladay, while you're licking your wounds, I'm having a great year. I have an ERA under 2, I'm striking guys out, just last night I pitched a lights-out ninth. It has finally come together for me. Just because you're apparently on the down side, and just because my former best friend is a fink, doesn't give you the right to wake me up in the middle of the freakin' night—it's 4:30, for chrissake! Man, am I pissed. I'm gonna kill Bronson.
Hey, I didn't mean to insult you or anything. All I wanted was some sympathy.
Well you won't get any from me. Call the Yankees. (click)
(sigh) It's lonely at the bottom. (hangs up the phone)


Tex said...

awwwwwwwww poooor Roy...i'd like to know how he got Lenny's cell number???

Beazer said...

Bronson gave it to him since Lenny has a thing for tall, thin, pitchers.

Anonymous said...

Bronson gave it to him, all right...but it's not his phone number we're talkin' about here.

KAYLEE said...

GREAT POST! I love the cell phone calkls:-)