Seeing as how Super Bowl MVP Tom Brady just posted his thoughts about his season-ending injury, I thought it’d only be fair to let folks know how I’m coping with my own season-ending injury. But before I do, let me just say that I agree 1000% with what my boy Randy Moss said about that hit. If that’s not some sort of lowdown cheap shot that’s supposed to be some sort of payback for all those touchdowns Brady threw last year while “running up the score,” then maybe the refs should just forget about ever calling late or illegal hits on QBs from now on. Why have the rule in place if you’re not gonna enforce it?
As a longtime and diehard Pats fan, I’m redder than an Irish sunburn that the NFL let the Chiefs get away with that sort of garbage, and all those refs out there should be happy they’re not coming up to bat against yours truly any time soon. Mr. Fastball’s got a few things to say about this travishamockery, you can bet your ass on that. Even that super-tough macho man Ed Hochuli — I’ve thrown chin music at all sorts of roid cases, Mr. Ed, so come on down and get some.
But this isn’t about how the NFL is rigged to keep great teams like the Pats down and out. This is about me, Billy Wagner, closer for the NL East division-leading New York Mets. Let me tell you, I’d do everything in my power to go out there and help the team out if I could. Ever since I came to New York, I’ve done everything I can to put the team first. Whether that means I go out there on the mound with my elbow flapping and moaning like that Keith Olbermann guy, or getting all aboard the Straight Talk Express when I’m talking with the media, it’s all for the good of the team. Now some Mets “fans” don’t like that I speak my mind and call it like I see it. Some “fans” think I ran Lastings Milledge out of town. Some “fans” think I got something against the Hispanic players on the team. Some “fans” think I’m just a me-first sort of guy that likes to hear himself talk and couldn’t care about what happens otherwise.
To all these Mets “fans” that think they know one damn thing about Billy Wagner, all I have to say is this: until you spent a day walking around in my jock, you can just sit there in your ivory tower talking your know-nothing talk like you’re something special, or you can do the smart thing and pop open a can of STFU Juice. You think I like going out there with my arm barking? You think I like going out there blowing two or three leads in a row? You think I like having some 98-pound slap-hitter take me over the right field wall?
There’s a reason closers are called “firemen” — it’s as close as a ballplayer can get to feeling the rush and danger that those American heroes face on a daily basis. And it’s just as tough to go out there with a three-run lead and 2 outs as it is to face the other team’s cleanup hitter with ducks on the pond. It’s a tough job. And I ain’t complaining about it. I’m paid a nice chunk of change to do this, and I knew the risks going in. But you’ll have to pardon my French if, when I see something that’s not right, I actually do what you’re supposed to do and say something about it.
If that uppity Lastings Milledge talks out of turn and throws his bling in my face, damn straight I’m going to say something about it. If that anthem-hating Carlos Delgado decides to skip out of the post-game interviews, damn straight I’m going to point it out. If that Jose Reyes or that Jose Castillo boot a room-service grounder to allow the tying run to score, or that Carlos Beltran loafs after another flyball over his head, you can be damn sure I’m going to light a fire under their tacos and make their nacho cheese extra spicy. And if these so-called fans don’t like what I have to say, then that’s just tough titty, because Billy Wagner weren’t raised no other way. I am what I am, and that’s all she wrote.
Anyway, Mets “fans” won’t have old Wags to kick around much anymore. You see, I’m supposed to miss all of next year because of this elbow thing, and I don’t want to come back too soon from surgery and risk getting it busted up all over again. After all, everyone knows that Billy Wagner only cares about himself, right? He wouldn’t step up and say what everyone’s thinking, and go out and pitch hurt, if he wasn’t totally selfish, right? So after next year, I’m gone baby gone from The City That Never Sleeps. Personally, I think it could use a nap, but what does a chaw-spittin’ NASCAR-lovin’ country bumpkin like me know about life in the big city? Well, golly gee, Mr. Educated New York City Man, I don’t know!
So anyway, while the Phillies storm back and take the division title away from your big city baseball team for the second straight year, and your 2009 season goes up in smoke like a pile of dead leaves next to a leaky moonshine still after fancy-pants free agent K-Rod stinks up the joint, and y’all are crying your eyes out over this sad turn of events, I’ll be rehabbing my bum joint and cashing my major league paycheck all the same. Yeah, Billy Wagner’s gonna come out of this just fine, don’t you worry about that.
New York Mets closer Billy Wagner puts as many as five pieces of sugarless Bazooka bubble gum in his mouth before going out to pitch. And that’s a fact, jack.