Oh, to be a fly on the wall in baseball purgatory
Somewhere between heaven (a baseball diamond fashioned from a corn field in Iowa) and hell (the players union offices in New York), suddenly retired reliever Jason Grimsley walks into a place that has the vague feel of some sort of purgatory ...
RAFAEL PALMEIRO: "Hey, look who's here! The Feds finish searching your house yet?"
JASON GRIMSLEY (dazed): "Dude, I can't believe how much time they spent just going through my underwear drawer alone."
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| Don't mind Jose Canseco, Grimsley. He's busy with his writing career. (Getty Images) |
GRIMSLEY: "I didn't testify in front of Congress, but I think I may have worse trouble."
PALMEIRO: "Worse than being stupid enough to get yourself into a situation where the Feds intercept a package of Human Growth Hormone shipped to your house? What'd you do? Name names?"
GRIMSLEY: "Well, ah, I, uh ..."
JOSE CANSECO (sitting at a corner desk, writing): "Shhhhh!"
GRIMSLEY: "What the --?"
PALMEIRO: "Don't mind Ernest Hemingway over there. He's working on another book. Thinks he's Papa himself. He's even taken to cigars."
SAMMY SOSA: "Hey Grims, what's that bat doing in your hand?"
GRIMSLEY: "Oh, this? Albert Belle's. Remember? Chicago? When I crawled through the ceiling and took it out of the umpire's room after they confiscated his corked bat? I kept it."SOSA: "Aw c'mon. Nobody corks their bats."
PALMEIRO (laughing): "Hey Jose, his English is pretty good when he's not in front of Congress, isn't it?"
CANSECO: "I said quiet!"
GRIMSLEY: "Raffy, you've got to help me. You came back to play last year after your steroid suspension. Do you think they'll take me back in the future?"
MARK McGWIRE (waking up from a nap, startled): "The future? Huh? Hey ... I'm here to talk about the future!"
PALMEIRO (angrily): "Don't say "steroid suspension!" It was vitamin B-12. And shut up, Rain Man!"
GRIMSLEY: "Rain Man?"
PALMEIRO: "McGwire. Have you ever seen a grown man cry the way he sobbed in front of Congress?"
ALEX SANCHEZ (calling out cheerfully from the kitchen, mop in hand): "Who's hungry?"
GRIMSLEY (looking perplexed): "What's HE doing here?"
PALMEIRO: "Housecleaner. Cooks, too. What do you think, we can just go out to Outback every night? Forget working in baseball. We can't even get served in public. You're not in heaven anymore, kid. Though Larry King calls every now and again. Guy gives me the creeps. Looks just like an owl."
CANSECO: "Anybody know how to spell "hormone"?
GRIMSLEY (pulling out his copy of the government search warrant): "H-O-R-M-O-N-E."
PALMEIRO: "If only I'd have taken that human growth stuff. Then they never would have caught me. (Stops suddenly, and wheels around toward Grimsley.) Now what were you saying about names?"
GRIMSLEY: "Well, in the beginning, I told the investigators some things. They promised if I told them the names of other guys who were using, they'd buy me ice cream and stuff. But then they never bought me ice cream, even after I told them how much I love that Cherry Garcia. So I stopped talking."
SOSA (mumbling to himself): "Chicken and rice. That's what I eat. Chicken and rice. Makes you strong."
McGWIRE (pleading): "Can't we just have a discussion about the future? How do you think the Cardinals will do in 2012?"
PALMEIRO: "So how many names did you give them?"
GRIMSLEY: "I dunno. Lost count."
PALMEIRO: "Boy did I catch hell last summer for mentioning Miguel Tejada. You would have thought I said it was St. Peter giving me the B-12. Tejada, the rat. Guy's always borrowing books and not returning them, and everybody's all over me."
CANSECO: "Borrows books? What's his e-mail? I'd like to tell him about the novel I'm writing."
GRIMSLEY: "Stupid, stupid, stupid. Everybody will hate me now."
PALMEIRO: "Know the big problem? Beds. We just don't have any more beds in here. Those other guys you mentioned get busted, they'll all be fighting over where they're gonna sleep. And I'll tell you this: I'm not sleeping on the floor."
CANSECO (fountain pen in hand, still hunched over a legal pad at the desk): "A little help, please? Syringe? I can never remember if it starts with an "s-y" or an "s-i."
SOSA: "Y, you moron!"
CANSECO: "You had that stupid home run hop. I make the New York Times bestseller list. And you're calling me a moron? Please."
GRIMSLEY: "Why doesn't the government go sniff around the NFL and leave us the hell alone?"
PALMEIRO: "Come on, Jason. You know the NFL has had a strict steroid policy in place for years. All those guys who are 6-8 and weigh 430 pounds and run the 40 in two seconds flat, it's because of Power Bars and weight rooms."
GRIMSLEY: "I guess. But it's still not fair. And what about Barry Bonds? Why's he not here?"
PALMEIRO: "He'll be here soon, don't worry. (Studies Grimsley's stats in the Baseball Encyclopedia.) Hmmm, let's see ... Jason, you broke in in 1989? And played with seven teams since then? Philadelphia ... Cleveland ... California Angels ... Yankees ... Kansas City ... Baltimore ... Arizona. That's a lot of names you could have dropped, my boy."
McGWIRE: "The future! I can help with that! Let's talk about when those names you mentioned that are blacked out of the court records will leak! I bet it will be sometime by the end of the month!"
GRIMSLEY (groans): "Don't remind me. I'll still be home weeding my garden then."
SOSA: "But at least you'll have the muscles and stamina to weed for hours!"
PALMEIRO: "Damn. Human Growth Hormone. Why didn't I think of that?"
GRIMSLEY: "It's undetectable, bro. Steroids are so 1990s. They show up in your urine. HGH doesn't. You think word isn't out around the league? Steroids to HGH, as simple as switching from Coke to Diet Coke."
SANCHEZ (calling from the kitchen): "Dinner's ready! Who likes hush puppies?"
