concede nothing

Player: Roy Oswalt
Card: 2003 Donruss Studio #133

Errors: I hate to tell you this Roy, but there's a train driving through your head. Is that a baseball offering? Is the baseball too hot too handle? Furthermore, player appears to be a giant.

Comments:

Thank you. Thank you.

(Pause)

I want to thank all of you for coming out here tonight and waiting in what appears to be some sort of train depot in the sky. Folks, I'm sad to tell you we have reached the end of our journey tonight. My teammates have spoken and they have spoken clearly - they would rather keep this Rawlings baseball on the team than me. I have been sent packing.

But let me assure you all tonight, that it was not me who failed. It was you, mainly. And the liberal media, a bit. But mostly you kept me down. Staying home to watch SportsCenter rather than knocking on a few more doors; creating your own campaign literature that said "Vote Roy, if you aren't busy with more important things." You just weren't good enough.

Please, please. Booing's not necessary. Unless you're saying "Rooooooy." Are you saying "Roooooy?" No? Oh, OK.

A few minutes ago, I called Rawlings baseball and offered my congratulations. Shortly after dialing, I was told by my aides that Rawlings had blocked my calls and text messages. But had I been able to speak to this inanimate object, I surely would have told it of my great admiration for all it's work and fine stitching.

Rawlings baseball ran an honorable campaign. Although Rawlings was unable to hold conversations, never brought beer to any of the team parties, never purchased Rolexes for the infielders and never gave up the good parking spot, it's clear my teammates have chosen to keep this baseball. What's not clear is why. At least I have opposable thumbs, as you can see.

There are so many people to thank - the train engineers, the coal shovelers, the necklace makers. But I want to be sure to thank this woman standing next to me. I just met her, but she seems like a fantastic lady and she's a soccer fan, so that's great.

I also want to make mention of all the young people who got involved. Johnny the bat boy, I thought your vote should have counted. Don't give up that spirit. You are the future, even if you're not worth a hoot right now.

Well, folks, I will continue the fight to have fewer Rawlings baseballs on the team. In our time ahead, I hope Rawlings and I can work together to decrease the number of foul balls in the stands. In the meantime, I have filed an injunction to challenge the vote totals.

Who's with me?

Scoring: 8-5-2

long haired freaky people need not apply

Players: Pascual and Melido Perez
Cards: 1990 Fleer #358, 1990 Donruss #BC-13
Errors: Since his hair is unable to be contained by MLB hat, Pascual has also chosen to wear standard-issue white T and a jacket sized for little leaguer. Furthermore, he steals pens.
According to numbering, Melido's no hitter took place 13 years before the birth of Jesus. Also, apparently the 1990 baseball season contained no highlights greater than a rain-shortened 6-inning no hitter.
Comments: Attention. Ahem. Attention. Graduates, please. Take your seats. Sir! That squirt gun will be confiscated!
I'd like to welcome you all to the 2008 Uglee Cards Salute!...to hair graduation ceremony. It's been a long month and there were trying times. I can only thank Vidal Sassoon that we didn't see Jeff Parrett's chest hair.
We've gathered here today to honor all of you: Dave. Steve. Dickie. What you accomplished on the field is surpassed only by the vociferous hair-related endorsement contracts you have earned.
All we can say is: Thank you.
To honor your work, we've invited two very important people to this afternoon's ceremony.
They come to us straight from the Dominican Republic's House of Style.
Of course, they are brothers to each other. But I think during this long month they have also become brothers to much of the staff here. I know just the other day Dr. Ashburn remarked: "I'd no sooner jab a pen in his side than my own brother."
So, before they deliver their synchronized commencement addresses, I'd like to say a few words about Pascual and Melido Perez. And their hair.
Pascual, your scowl at fans stupefied and dumbfounded us at first. We wanted to ask: why the hatred while you're writing a number on your glove? But, as fast as we could ask, you'd answer: "This is not even my glove."
Well, done sir. Well done. You are so wise. Your hanging hair of Bablyon has given you many brain muscles.
Melido, your flowing, but somewhat sticky, locks dazzled the Yankees for six hitless innings. We can only imagine the various illegal substances you hid in plain sight, causing the ball to dip, dive and curve with a well-groomed panache.
Although the official scorers later disqualified your feat, you can be sure you've earned a place in our hearts, and hopefully the alumni donation book.
So, without further ado, on this beautiful and historic day, I present Melido and Pascual Perez.
Wild applause...
Scoring: 5-4-2

it's gold, jerry, gold!

Player: DeWayne Buice
Card: 1988 Donruss #58
Errors: Player could only afford half a sweatshirt. In lieu of belt, player given multi-colored elastic band. Background of card borrowed from Tron.
Comments: DeWayne stared at the letter. He allowed each word to burn. He let the hurt simmer and overflow. He was beyond pain.
"Dear Mr. Buice: Thank you for submitting your gold necklaces. While you show great talent, we regret to inform you that we are not hiring additional artisans at the present time. We will keep your letter on file. We have returned your work, as requested. Thank you and best of luck with your job search. Sincerely, Newton Designs, Inc."
DeWayne could only shrug. He had given up so much for his craft. He walked away from his parents during the rainy season, leaving them without his bamboo expertise. For three years, he had eaten only Ramen and corn flakes, saving up for his carving tools. He had stripped his own car to get metal for the DeWayne "UnDeNiable" collection. And Sharon. Poor Sharon.
What was the point?
Maybe even Sharon's death in the horrible smelting accident - it was an accident, dammit! - might mean something if a gallery would just give him a chance.
Instead, the rejection letters piled up like broken dreams printed on 8-1/2 by 11 pink slips. Bracelets would never find wrists; earrings would never dangle; necklaces would never highlight a nape.
"I have talent and desire," DeWayne thought to himself. "I need marketing. I need exposure."
Suddenly, DeWayne remembered that he could throw a fastball 93 miles per hour. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner?
DeWayne would play baseball.
There, in stadiums filled with thousands of people with expendable incomes, he would showcase his true love: jewelry.
Over the next 10 years, DeWayne underwent intense physical and psychological training.
In each game, he'd pitch his heart out - necklaces prominently displayed.
In Great Falls and Cedar Rapids, DeWayne dazzled. Fresno, West Haven. He always requested V-neck jerseys.
Of course, there were still nights when DeWayne would hold his necklaces and cry out Sharon's name. Why hadn't he checked the pressurization valve?!
DeWayne trudged on: Tacoma. Nuevo Laredo. Midland. Edmonton.
Then, finally, the big show. On April 25, 1987, Willie Fraser was struggling. Gene Mauch looked down his bench and his eye caught the glimmer of a 18K gold necklace, byzantine in style with a clasp in the back.
"Buice! Warm up!"
DeWayne took the mound against the Minnesota Twins, with 51,717 potential customers in the stands.
He pitched 2-2/3 innings that day, giving up just one run. Although the Twins would win when Gary Gaetti singled in the ninth, it was a short-term defeat for DeWayne. Later that night, he'd discover that his answering machine contained 16 new orders for the UnDeNiable necklace, all from people who were at the game.
But even that was secondary to what happened when DeWayne walked out of the Metrodome.
"Hey, nice necklace," a woman shouted from the sidewalk.
DeWayne looked over. It was Sharon's identical sister - the one who hadn't been killed in a horrible smelting accident. Things were beginning to look up for DeWayne Buice.
UnDeNiably.
Scoring: 3-1