Carl Pavano (0–0) vs. Sidney Ponson (0–0)
The Yanks first stop on their first road trip of the season is Minnesota, where they will take on the surging Twins and Sidney Ponson, pictured above. Ponson is a rotund Aruban, and while you might think the Yanks are heading into the game with an advantage at the SP position, you should probably be informed that Carl Pavano will take the hill for the Yanks.
Instead of the usual “In a Nutshell” and “Keys to the game” sections, today I’m going to share with you a conversation which took place on the Yanks charter plane last night on the way to the Twin Cities. I can’t tell you who the source is, but let’s just say she’s a flight attendant looking to replace Gia Allemand (Carl Pavano’s ex).
35,000 feet over Lake Michigan…
Carl Pavano is lounging in the back of the team plane, trying to block out the noise coming from the front of the plane where Melky Cabrera and Robinson Cano are engaged in a heated Dance Dance Revolution battle. He’s having his eyebrows waxed when Joe Torre taps him on the shoulder.
Torre: Hit the bricks Gene, I have to talk to Carl. (Gene Monahan skitters away, leaving the dripping wax on Pavano’s uni-brow)
Pavano: Skip, come on man, I’m on the market again. Minnesota’s got some hot trim.
Torre: Keep it in your pants Pavano, remember what happened last time?
Pavano: She can’t prove it was mine now. OOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW! (Pavano tears the wax strip off his own uni-brow, then looks at Torre as if to say, ‘that really hurt’)
Torre: Don’t get any ideas…
Pavano: Come on skip, that really hurt. I think I might need a day off.
Torre: Put a sock in it, pretty boy. That’s why I’m here.
Pavano: But Joe, everyone said you’re a pushov—err, I mean, player’s manager. That’s why I came here.
Torre: Yeah, well I don’t have a contract for next year, and my ass is on the line, so that’s all going to change. No more “Classic Guitar” in the clubhouse, no more using the training staff for cosmetic grooming, and no more free rides on the D.L.
Pavano: What????? You can’t be serious.
Torre: As a heart attack, which is what you’re going to give me if you keep pitching like you did on opening day.
Torre: You can cry your eyes out to Cashman, it won’t make any difference. He isn’t going to bail you out this time.
Pavano: I’ll call my agent.
Torre: Just shut it. I’ve carried you long enough Pavano, this is how it’s gonna be.
Pavano: Fine, but I’m not going to like it.
Torre: Good. Now listen, tomorrow night, there is no pitch count for you. You are going to start the game, and you are going to finish the game.
Pavano: But, Joe, a complete game? You can’t be serious. I have heavy-leg syndrome.
Torre: I don’t care.
Pavano: OK, you got me, I crashed my car last week, I can’t pitch.
Torre: Don’t care.
Pavano: My girlfriend’s pregnant, and I have to take her to the clinic for a “procedure.”
Torre: Nice try, but you already used that one. Listen, I don’t care what injury you think of, you are not coming out of this game. I don’t care how many pitches you throw, when you’re on the mound you’re on your own.
Pavano: You’re worse than Leyland!
Torre: Sticks and stones, crybaby. Sticks and stones. (Torre turns to walk away)
Pavano: You’ll be sorry Joe. I’ll go out there and throw meatballs over the plate all day long!
Torre: (Giving the one-finger salute over his shoulder) That’ll be a big change.
Disclaimer: Lest anyone think this is an actual transcript, of an actual conversation (and send me stupid emails), I’d like to state that this is an act of satire, or humor, or humour if you’re British. Anyway, it’s a joke, relax.
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