Jesus and I may not love the uni he’s been donning the last few years; but heck, it’d be pretty sacrilegious to hate on a man who has provided the masses with unfettered improvisational entertainment throughout his entire career.
So Al, I and the RSBS interns would all like to wish Lou Piniella the very best in his retirement while reminiscing on those things we’ll miss the most about him:
His Preggers Belly
You know the drill. Lou shows up to Arizona in the Spring in excellent shape, nary a roll on his tummy. A few hapless months of frustrating baseball and countless cold ones later and he magically looks like he oughta be resting for the end of his third trimester. Some managers utilize the brim of their caps to intimidate umpires during a raucous; Lou bumps bellies.
His Indomitable Will
Whether it’s dealing with Sori’s hop, Rob Dibble’s grappling moves or Zambrano’s homicidal tendencies, Lou Piniella never seems to show a weak link. He can fight. He will fight. He will fight you… if you give him a reason. And the chance. That is the epitome of bad@$$ and that’s why I would love to take Lou out drinking sometime.
His Love for the Bottle
Realize that I realize that I am taking certain liberties in proclaiming that Lou has a love for booze. I mean, he’s a man. He’s also a ballplayer. And he’s often seen in the clubhouse with a drink in his hand. So that makes him like 90% of the people I know on earth (me included) which makes me like him even more. It almost makes me want to bar hop the Tampa Bay metro area until I eventually run into him. I can’t promise I’ll be able to form coherent sentences at that point, but I would sure try.
Be good, Lou. Be good.
And come back if ya want. Baseball without you just won’t be the same.
Hate me ‘cuz I hate on your sCrUBBIES, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.