Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Delmon Young had a dream.
And now, as promised, something funny. I wrote this for a girl I met once who works here, who claimed Comedy Central connections and told me to write some webisodes. I haven't found her since. Your gain, their loss. And my bank account's loss, I guess. Whatever.
Oh, the inspiration came from a real quote. Guess what.
The Tampa Bay Devil Rays’ clubhouse, pregame. Devil Rays manager JOE MADDON is talking to outfielder DELMON YOUNG, who clutches a bat, angry.
It’s just a slump, Delmon.
It’s the most frustrating thing, skip. The swing has been there, you know? I’ve been swinging the bat real good. Hell, if there wasn't nine guys out in the field, I'd have a hit every time. Except when I strike out.
Well yeah, that’s obvious.
How d’you figure?
Beat. Maddon, not sure how to respond, pats Young on the shoulder, walks away.
YOUNG (laying his head back)
Yeah. If it wasn’t for those nine guys I’d have a hit every time. (drifting to sleep) A hit every time…every time…every time…
Cut to the baseball field, inside Delmon Young’s dream; it looks like a baseball game on TV. Young is at the plate against a Toronto Blue Jays pitcher. We hear a radio announcer, and the action unfolds just as he calls it.
Up steps Delmon Young. Here’s the pitch.
Young hits a hard fly ball to center field. Toronto centerfielder VERNON WELLS ranges back.
This one has a chance. Way back! Way back! Wells is at the wall, he might bring this in!
Wells jumps up, but before he can make an amazing catch, he vanishes into thin air. The ball goes over the wall.
Gone! Home run!
Quick montage of at-bats, possibly to “You Got The Touch” from Transformers: The Movie, or something equally awesome yet inspiring song.
1. Young hits a hot ground ball to short. SHORTSTOP dives for the ball, comes up with it, but as he’s about to throw to first, he vanishes; the ball and glove fall to the ground, Young is safe at first.
2. Young bunts down the first base line. Ball is about to go foul, but before the UMPIRE can call it foul, Young waves his arms in the air; UMPIRE vanishes, Young is safe at first.
Music stops. Delmon Young at the plate. His statistics briefly flash on the bottom of the screen: he’s batting 1.000 with 85 home runs and 500 RBIs.
Oh, what a game! Bases juiced, bottom of the 9th, D’Rays down by three, and up steps Delmon Young. Here’s the pitch.
Young barely hits the ball. Rest goes exactly as announcer says.
A weak groundball back to the pitcher, but wait, what’s this? Yes, the pitcher has vanished! The pitcher has dissipated into the moist Tampa Bay air, oh, doctor! One run scores, two runs score, three runs score, and in comes Delmon Young! D’Rays win! D’Rays win!
We hear the crowd chanting M-V-P! M-V-P! as the dream fades. Back to a sleeping Delmon Young in the clubhouse, with Joe Maddon hovering over him.
YOUNG (mumbling in his sleep)
M-V-P. M-V-P. M-V…
Young wakes with a start.
It’s game time, Delmon.
Young closes his eyes. Maddon shrugs, erases his name from the lineup card, walks off
YOUNG (closing his eyes)
Batting title, here I come.