So the big news floating around Boston this morning is that Red Sox relief pitcher Joe Kelly agreed on a 3 year, $25 million deal with the LA Dodgers late last night. If you’re like me, you probably have some mixed feelings about this news. For starters, I think we can all agree that Kelly was as inconsistent as fountain Sprite from McDonalds last season. When he was on he was great, but when he was off he made everybody collectively scream at their TV’s. He finished the year with an ERA of 4.39, but his ERA jumped up and down throughout the season more than a fat pair of tits on a trampoline. His ERA in May was an impressive 0.63, whereas his ERA in June and July were 8.35 and 8.31 respectively. In short, that is fucking terrible. He was eventually able to right the ship and closed out August with an acceptable ERA of 1.41, but most people’s minds were made up about him and didn’t trust the guy as far as they could throw him. However, he was crucial in our World Series run, allowing only 1 run with 13 K’s and 0 walks in 11 1/3 innings. For that reason, along with the fact that Craig Kimbrel is leaving, myself and many others just figured that Joe Kelly would be staying around as one of our go-to guys. As of now, Barnes and Brasier, the latter of which was a huge breath of fresh air, seem to be our key guys late in the game. These changes mean that the depth in the Red Sox bullpen is in even more jeopardy that it was previously, and to avoid mass hysteria and panic, I would like to calm the city of Boston down by officially announcing my availability to step up and help out in the Red Sox bullpen next season.
Now I should probably preface this with the fact I haven’t thrown a pitch in an organized baseball game in atleast 10 years, but that’s an irrelevant piece of information if you ask me. Back in my prime (Ages 10-12), I was without a doubt a top 50 pitcher in my Little League program. Opposing dugouts dropped to their knees and begged for mercy upon seeing my brace-faced self walking out to the mound, for what was sure to be yet another 1-2-3 inning followed by high fives and the coach taking the entire team to Dairy Queen for ice cream. Dads cheered, and whether they want to admit it or not, all of the mom’s pant’s got so wet you would have thought somebody pushed them in a pool. I was lights out. Unstoppable. The Randy Johnson of pre-pubescent boys. For these 100% factual reasons, I think I could easily shine in the Big Show by building off of my past achievements alone. For those that still doubt my abilities and want some more recent examples of my dominant arm throwing strength, consider these 2 tales.
I went to Canobie Lake Park last summer, and they had one of those pitching games set up. At the bargain price of $5 to throw a baseball a couple of times, I couldn’t resist. It’s safe to say that word got around the park quickly, and by the time I was done painting the corners, there was a small crowd gathered behind me taking videos and basking in this moment they would undoubtably tell their kids about someday. I was consistently throwing in the mid 60’s, even hitting 70 once on a pitch that was atleast 15 feet high and away.
Still not convinced? Well allow this story about my friends and I at Nantasket Beach over the summer to sway your opinion. In a fit of drunken competitive spirit, we decided to see who could throw their empty beer bottles the furthest. Needless to say I was chucking my bottles so far into the ocean that they’re probably in a whale’s stomach as we speak, and I also sniped a seagull out of the sky with one which displays my accuracy. Slam the gavel folks, because when it comes to if I could hang in the MLB, the case is clearly closed.
Some of you might think I’m laughing as I write this, but I actually have the facial expression of a doctor that’s telling a kid his parents are dead. I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life, and I even just got finished curling a 10 pound dumbbell a few times to get my arm ready for what’s to come. I’m easily the most overlooked unrestricted free agent out there right now, and it’s sad that a scenario such as this one is what it’s gonna take to finally give me a shot in the big leagues. If anybody has any connections within the Red Sox organization please do me a favor and pass this information along so they’ll know to get into contact with me. Just make sure they give me a heads up for when the physical and whatnot is coming because I might have to secure some clean piss if you catch my drift. That’s all for now, but I just wanted to let everybody know there is nothing to worry about. Have no fear, a washed up little league pitcher is here! And lastly, thanks for bringing the rivalry back Joe
PS: Does anybody have a glove I can borrow? I can’t seem to find my old one on the front porch, so I’m starting to think my mom threw it away.