The Best of In the Bleachers

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The Best of In the Bleachers Page 1

by Steve Moore




  Copyright

  Copyright © 2003 by Steve Moore

  All rights reserved.

  Warner Books

  Hachette Book Group

  237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017

  Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com.

  First eBook Edition: June 2009

  ISBN: 978-0-446-56251-5

  To my wife, Dru, and our three gifts from God—

  Jakob, Lauren, and Christopher.

  Contents

  Copyright

  The Best of “In the Bleachers”

  About the Author

  The Best of in the Bleachers

  “Well, that was an exciting ninth inning.”

  Communicating with a third-base coach.

  Before the introduction of rawhide, baseballs were made out of a less durable material.

  “OK, first thing we do is teach these pinheads how to hit.”

  “Hey, Dewey, you gotta lay off those pork rinds, man.”

  When referees go home at night.

  “It was his last wish, Helen. ‘Scatter my ashes,’ he whispered, ‘over my favorite spot on Earth.’ ”

  “Are you sure it’s just a torn ligament?”

  “I knew this would happen. They hold him scoreless in the first half, and then, early in the third quarter, he suddenly explodes.”

  “Well, no wonder the pass was wobbly … Someone got a hand on it.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t mention this when we get back to the clubhouse.”

  “Every time he tells that story, the golfer grows a little bigger.”

  “Well, it’s a boy. And I think I can explain those sudden sharp pains in your rib cage.”

  “Coach, he’s back! The guy with the threatening voice who keeps demanding that you put in the second string.”

  “This makes me ill. Look at her, Angela. She’s a rail.”

  “Quit basketball to concentrate on school? Are you crazy? Do you want to end up like all those other dreamers with a college degree and no job?”

  “Swim right over to within inches of it, then turn your nose up and swim away. It drives them freaking nuts.”

  “Isn’t that cute?”

  “Go ahead, friend. Change it. Change it again and again. There is no baseball—just figure skating. All 274 stinking channels.”

  “OK, OK! Move along! Show’s over!”

  “Your ball landed in the water. You want to play another ball or wade in and get it?”

  “I’m gonna have to write you up, buddy. Now I suppose you’re gonna claim you didn’t know this planet is restricted to ‘abduct and release’ only.”

  Criminally insane batting coaches.

  Golf foursome in counseling.

  Benchwarmer dreams.

  “What’d I say, Dewey? Huh? What’d I say? I said, ‘Don’t put the chicken at third! No way a chicken can handle a hard line drive!’ ”

  “What’s it been, 10 minutes? And the fielder hasn’t reached the ball yet? And the runner’s still on his way to first? That’s why I hate baseball, Dewey. It’s too stinking slow.”

  “I like this kid. He’s only been in the league one month, and already he’s developed severe personal problems and a deep-rooted hatred of the media.”

  “ ‘You’ve got to train,’ I told him. ‘Don’t look past this guy,’ I told him. ‘You’re too cocky,’ I told him … What a freakin’ fiasco!”

  Learn to speak fluent baseball in just two weeks in the privacy of your own home!!

  “You are one sick puppy.”

  “ ‘Time out’? You backed off because he screamed ‘Time out’?”

  “This is so cool. Should we let them duke it out?”

  “Truth? This drill has nothing to do with football. I just like to watch them scream.”

  “Well, I can’t say for sure what’s causing your family’s itchy, burning skin, but, just out of curiosity, was the previous owner of the shoe an athlete?”

  “Be cool, Dewey! As long as they’re quacking, we’re safe. When they stop quacking, then we start worrying about an attack.”

  “Someone block the duck!”

  “Get up … One more.”

  Cats are uncoachable.

  Jimmy takes grand prize in the “Win Your Very Own 350-pound Offensive Tackle” contest.

  “OK, OK! One more try! I can do this! I swear!”

  “Go get help!”

  “OK, next the hats. Quit stalling!”

  “Dewey! Grandpa’s stuck again. Give him a couple of whacks upside the head.”

  The little woman who lived in a plain old sneaker.

  “Big deal, Louie—you can dunk. I can dunk. My grandmother can dunk. Everyone up here can dunk, Louie.”

  “I don’t know why that happens, son. No one knows why. All I know is that it’s not a good idea to wear one pair of gym socks five days in a row.”

  “Liposuction! Liposuction! Yo, liposuction!”

  “This is so bizarre. Normally, these woods are full of deer. They’re on to us somehow.”

  After games, the stadium security guards would gather and swap stories.

  In another coup for Nike, God signs a personal endorsement contract.

  Roman gladiator injury reports.

  “We’re close, Stu. We’re real close. These bear droppings are fresh … and look: He’s still signed on.”

  “Here they come.”

  “That’s my mom. Quick, do what I always do: Mentally tune her out.”

  Later, Dewey ran the 100-meter dash in a wind-aided 10 seconds flat.

  “Do or die, Bob.”

  Obi-Wan Kenobi, sports agent.

  “I ain’t no epidemiologist. Know what I’m sayin’, Sid? But if I wuz, I’d stay outta da clinches with dis guy.”

  “We’re sick, Larry. We are really sick.”

  “He’s hauling Leonard onto shore. He’s grabbing a knife. He’s making an incision in Leonard’s belly and … Oh, wow. This is so cool.”

  “It’s a gift, Wayne. Some players can ‘pat.’ Others can ‘rub.’ But very few players can pat and rub at the same time.”

  “This time, get your elbow up and come right over the top if you want to throw a perfect spiral.”

  Play golf, and in just one month you will experience dramatic changes in fitness or your money back!!

  “OK, let’s try it again. This time, wait until I drop the puck before you start swinging the sticks.”

  “OK, men, listen up. This is it. This is what we’ve been waiting for all season—the big game. And, as you can see, there is no tomorrow.”

  “Help me, Meester Golfer! Help me, help me, help me!!”

  “I’ll be glad when I finally give birth. It’s been like carrying a bowling ball around for nine months.”

  “You heard me wrong. I said, ‘Go get a puck.’ But this could be interesting.”

  “You can’t let a dragon go baseline, Floyd. You let a dragon go baseline and he’s gonna burn you ever single time.”

  Size matters.

  “Welcome to the gym, Mr. Coleman, and— geez Louise! First thing we’re gonna do is work on those love handles.”

  “Well, well. Look who’s here … God’s gift to golf.”

  The mood spots of a golf club.

  “It’s a Fed! … Act natural.”

  The sportswriter and his trusty word fairy.

  “First thing we’re gonna do is work on that stance of yours. Then you and I are gonna have a long man-to-man talk.”

  Randall, the team punter, stays up all night to memorize his portion of the playbook.

  “Well, you just march right back to the castle and put one on … Anyone else not wearing a cup?”

  “Dad, look! T
hey’re showing a close-up of you on the scoreboard big screen! Wave, Dad, wave!!”

  “Well, that’s the final piece of the puzzle. Our team’s got excellent fielding, pitching, hitting— and now we’re a nuclear power.”

  At the very next track meet, all the other sprinters sheared their bodies to cut down on drag.

  In a risky procedure, Bob is transplanted from shortstop to center field.

  The annual Kona, Hawaii, Marlin Toss.

  “Wolinsky? He’s not available. We’re waiting for parts.”

  “So you two idiots ‘lend’ a body to a promoter for a boxer’s tune-up fight? OK, then what happened?”

  “… Now get back into starting position. Or does someone else think I’m just shooting blanks?”

  “Don’t rush it! Look for the open receiver! Stay in the pocket! Stay in the pocket!!”

  “Well, well. Enjoying another one of your little ‘fishing trips,’ Floyd? … So, who’s the tramp?”

  Memory jogging path.

  “You shoulda seen it. Vincent is sprinting for the end zone when a linebacker runs up and—wham!— knocks the sheep out of him.”

  His team retains possession when a quick-thinking Ernie calls time-out while falling out of bounds.

  Athletic tape removal chamber.

  “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but Coach is wondering if it is OK to put you in the game.”

  NFL quarterback slides feet-first to the ground and avoids a mugging.

  “Watch out, Doug, it’s a quarterback! Stand up straight! Stand up straight!!”

  The annual Daytona 500 Police Chase.

  “Dibs on the Nikes.”

  In another universe.

  “Well, here we go again. Why is it we can never get through a shift without a fight breaking out?”

  Surfing tours.

  “Hey, hey, hey! Not in the house! Go outside if you’re going to throw your little brother around.”

  Until his wife found out, Steve would impress the other dads with his ability to palm his kid just like a basketball.

  Unable to keep up with the rising cost of season tickets, Helen and Bernard have their seats repossessed.

  Tennis parents, the early stages.

  The other sprinters laughed at Donald’s breast implants until he leaned in at the tape and won the 100 meters.

  “OK, before the fights begin, has everyone completely filled out his organ-donor card?”

  Once again, Derek is able to use his excellent ball-handling skills to dribble his way out of trouble.

  “Well, the new neighbors are moving in, and our worst fears have come true. It’s an entire family of screwballs.”

  “Well, well. Looks like we hit the jackpot. Not only is this guy fishing without a license, he’s way under the size restriction.”

  “My children won’t speak to me anymore.”

  “It’s a tough world, son. You inflate. You get kicked around all your life. Then one day—blam! You deflate.”

  “Do I kick you out of the game now, or do you want to put that cattle prod away this very instant?”

  “Runners to your mark. Get set. Go! … OK, come get your T-shirts.”

  “This is getting ugly. Our home fan has turned against us.”

  Harold hires a personal play-by-play announcer.

  “Nothing! Yo, get absolutely nothing here!”

  “So the pitcher beans the batter. The batter charges the mound, both benches empty, and … Oh, thank God. Here comes Jesse Jackson.”

  “OK, men. It’s been a long off-season, so we’re going to go back over a few fundamentals of football … And we might as well start with the way you’re wearing those helmets.”

  After a seemingly inexplicable rise in the number of Major League home runs, investigators trace the cause to a manufacturing plant in Ohio.

  “Get both hands on the wheel and quit slouching … Aaaah! What was that? Did you hear a thump? I heard a thump!”

  And then one day the umpires discovered pepper spray.

  “Objection sustained. Counsel will refrain from bodychecking the witness and slamming him against the boards.”

  “Check this out, Phil. He’s still got the ball and his wallet wasn’t even touched … This is scary. We’re dealing with a linebacker who blitzes just for the thrill of it.”

  At stadium security boot camp.

  Criminally deranged P.E. teachers.

  “Whoa! That’s enough tranquilizer. Geez, we just want to slow down their running back, not kill him.”

  Gut-check time.

  Accountants by day, pro wrestlers by night.

  “Hey, hey, hey! How many times have I told you! Goalposts are not playthings!”

  “This isn’t athlete’s foot cream. You’ve been using Rogaine.”

  “Well, so far we’ve seen nothing but females with their young and … Wait! There’s a big old buck!!”

  “For the billionth time, Helen, no, I will not stop to ask for directions! This is a racetrack! We’re supposed to drive around in circles!!”

  Richard Simmons plays rugby for the first and last time.

  And from that day on, Jake and Lauren bragged to the other kids about their mom’s 60-inch vertical leap and 4.1-second speed in the 40-yard dash.

  “Hey, you’re cheating! Those fire hazards weren’t there two minutes ago when you teed off!!”

  “Trust me, Grinda. If we build it, they will come.”

  “It’s like a disease, Vern. You gotta nip it in the bud. You get a coupla cattle doin’ it, and pretty soon the whole goldarn herd is figure skating.”

  “Sorry, Mike. That’s the rule. Two technical fouls and you’re outta here.”

  “It’s just a fact of life in sports, Sid. You gotta win. Our team wasn’t winning, and that’s why they flushed Coach down the toilet.”

  “You weren’t paying attention, Joey. It’s called a ‘header.’ There is no such thing as a ‘noser.’ ”

  “Don’t pick him up! If the mother detects your scent, she’ll never accept him back.”

  “One of these days we’ve got to find players who can think for themselves out on the floor.”

  “… Well, that’s too bad, Timmy. You should have thought about that before the race. Now you’ll just have to hold it for 100 more laps.”

  The rotator cuff fairy.

  Andrew is fooled for a second weekend in a row.

  “Well, so much for the ump. Higgins, go tell the P.A. announcer to warn the spectators about the irresponsible use of laser pointers.”

  “… ‘It’s not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game’? … Who fed you that baloney?”

  “There’s a message inside. It says, ‘Send help.’ ”

  “No, Jason. Your ‘entourage’ cannot join us for ice cream if we win the T-ball championship.”

 

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