Last week you got a glimpse at how unoriginal I can be, now check out the first real Byron Magrane original. It's a play on perceived notions. Our hero, Eddie thinks he's the next Dominican slugging superstar. His buddy, Kurt, shows him otherwise.
I think at one time or another everyone has delusions of grandeur and for the most part they always run contrary to another's same delusions. No matter whom you are, you're not going to win every single time. That's just the way life is sometimes.
There are two things that I really like about this strip, the chair (which is the exact same chair that I'm sitting next to now) and the whole Wiffle Ball scene. Charlie Brown has football, Dagwood has golf, Eddie Verde is going to have Wiffle Ball.
BTW, if you happened to have found this site without seeing the strip, you can go to: http://www.room19comics.com
Why Wiffle Ball? Quite simply it's the greatest game ever invented. It's sort of like one-on-one hoops, except with baseball. You don't have to worry about breaking stuff, finding 18 guys, etc. You and a buddy can just grab a yellow bat, a couple of balls and a chair and you're ready to go.
I still try and get a couple of games in every summer, but with work, relationships, and other real-life stuff, it gets harder and harder to squeeze in a few hours. My apex was the late 90s, I had my fastball flying, my knuckler knuckling and I could hit the ball a mile.
My main protagonist in this sport of kings was none other than Steve Brown. He had the patience and batting eye of Tony Gwynn, so he was a tough man to strike out and oftentimes he'd foul off pitch after pitch after pitch until he found one that he loved.
Now that he lives in Waltham, we don't play as much as we used to, but throw us back on the field and you'll see some stars shine.
BTW, I was originally going to have Kurt say "Pedro Martinez" instead of Roger Clemens, but I wrote this around the time when Clemens got his sixth Cy Young and I wanted to send a shout out to the old man, I don't hate him nearly as much as I did when he was a Yankee.
Speaking of baseball and Brownie, last night he and I, and Aly and Cindy took in a game between the Sox and the Indians. They lost 7-0 as Bronson Arroyo was the recipient of some bad luck. It wouldn't have mattered if he had all the luck in the world, because Kevin Millwood was mowing the Sox down. That ended their seven game win streak.
Tonight the Sox gave up at least five runs in the ninth and are losing (and have probably lost to the Indians) 12-8. Foulkin' Foulke. Unbelievable.
Speaking of streaks, I had four and a half Fenway Franks last night. Needless to say, I felt like total dog shit last night and today.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
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