Decoding the Magic of Mystery

albert pujols on fire.jpgThe Truth is: the view from Pujols-ville is more than satisfying these days.  Despite my colleague’s dastardly attempts to poke holes in the euphoric reality of the game’s best player hitting walk-off homeruns to champion the St. Louis Cardinals to its current nine game lead in the NL Central over the Chicago sCrUBS, I continue to attest to the wondrous ecstasy that is having a bonafide man-crush on Number 5.

Say what you want, Mr. Krause, Pujols-ville is full of winners.

The same cannot be said for the barely above mediocre Detroit Tigers.

And when times are tough, Mr. Krause — when the .500 Minnesota Twins and sub .500 Chicago White Sox have legitimate shots at besting your patchwork club — I understand that human nature may force you to criticize, to chide, to castigate.  Indeed, your rural upper middle class gun-totin’ religion-clingin’ Republican roots have crept their way into the conversation with your most recent closing statement:

“Don’t hate me because of my inability to fantasize about Albert Pujols
in a kiddie pool full of tapioca pudding. Hate me ‘cuz I’m right.”

Jealously does often cause one to slander.

But the above statement is more than just blasphemy.  It’s code.

You see, dear readers, Mr. Krause and I both fancy ourselves as learned linguists.  With two foreign languages under each of our respective belts (that’s four total, not counting the mother tongue), it’s easy for us to slip hidden messages here and there.  In this case, the curious Albert/kiddie-pool/tapioca-pudding reference has deeper meaning…

In French:

Ne me détestez pas en raison de mon incapacité de fantasmer au sujet d’Albert Pujols dans un regroupement de kiddie complètement de pudding de tapioca. Détestez-moi ‘cuz que j’ai raison.

To Chinese:


To Spanish:

No odio, porque no puedo Albert Pujols un grupo de fantasía para niños que pudín plenamente tapioca. Odio porque yo tenía razón.

To Arabic:

لا اكره لأنني لا أستطيع ألبرت Pujols مجموعة من الخيال للأطفال بشكل كامل التابيوكا الحلوى. أنا أكره لأنني كنت على حق.

And finally, back to English:

“Did not force!  For that I, Albert, did not can Pujols’ group from the horseman for the children, thoroughly Al-Hulwah! I forced for that.  I was justified.”

Yep.  Mystery solved.  Mr. Krause wishes he were Albert.  He fears those pesky horsemen, the children and most importantly, those more than creepy Al-Hulwahs.

Hard for me to hate Mr. Krause for that.  Sometimes the Al-Hulwahs even keep me up at night.

Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.





  1. raysrenegade

    Sorry but I do not want to be Albert Pujols when he goes to a visiting stadium, but it would be nice to be him when he is at Busch!
    Reason being is the Albert haters in the the world who might bring up those three letters we all dread to hear nowadays. PED used to be just a simple collection of letters, now it is a cancer among the few who play the game.
    So I could not be Albert and smile and still sign autographs as a joker decides he needs is 2 minutes of fame by ridiculing a guy who should be his hero, not the goat of ill-advised slander.
    But most of all, I could not be Albert because my bat would be red from the blood of those idiots because if ignorance is bliss, then I am going downtown with their pinheads!

    Rays Renegade

  2. redstatebluestate

    Jen — He ain’t goin’ anywhere. Don’t get your hopes up. Be happy with an ailing Jake Peavy 😉
    Jenn — If only certain dreams came true…
    Jane — Now THAT’S a dream!
    RR — Albert’s clean. If proven otherwise, I’m quitting baseball.
    Ted — I thought it looked a lot like Hafner, too much so to not be him.
    Julia — Indeed it does.
    Lisa — I don’t know about ‘all’, but Al? Guilty.


    Jeff and Al you both know about those tapioca pools so lets not talk about that. Just leave Albert out of this evil thinking.

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