And this is a SOBER skipper.
Good thing, too.
‘Cuz it’s time to rally up.
You can’t hate me for sayin’ that. ‘Cuz I’m right.
Abraham would’ve done it.
Someone would’ve done it.
Baseball meets art, dude.
And I just blew your mind.
Hate me for that… just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Whether it’s the smile or the cutter, you know it’s coming and you still can’t hit it.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
In the real world, it’s easy to explain why the Tigers suck.
In the surreal world, there are things you just can’t explain.
So don’t even try, tiger.
Don’t even try.
Hate me. Fine. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
There are days when you wonder what Jesus might be tempted to do with these so-called sister wives… then there are days when you wonder what Jesus might be tempted to do to Manny.
While being Manny.
Hate me; I don’t care. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Besides baseball, one could say that I get pretty ravenous about the arts. Especially in the winter, when all is dead on the diamond. I pay rent at the Art Institute of Chicago. That’s how often you’ll find me there.
So I got to thinking… what would happen if I combine baseball with the arts?
That’s what would happen.
Sorry. Y’all can’t out-hawk the Hawk.
Congrats on the Hall, Andre.
Congrats on being one of the best.
And thanks for not hating me ‘cuz I’m right.