Jose Offerman: Still a Creep Who Will Murder You in Your Sleep
Sometimes it’s nice to go through life knowing certain constants remain… constant. You know, like the sun will always rise in the east; Republicans and Democrats will always hate each other; Jose Offerman, as a player, coach, manager, whatever, will do everything possible so that he can continue to assault people on the baseball diamond.
Oh sure, this time the weapon has changed — preferring a clenched fist over a maple bat. And the victim is one of the men in blue instead of the opposing pitcher. But the one reassuring constant in this matter is that no one in professional baseball seems to care that Jose Offerman is a complete psychopath.
If I were running a team in the Dominican Republic or the Independent Leagues or even the Majors, and Jose Offerman was involved with my club somehow, I would make sure that he always remained secure in one of those Hannibal Lecter type restraining device get ups.
I would let him take his swings or go out to the mound to talk to his pitcher or argue with an umpire if a play called for it; but I would definitely make sure the creep was strapped down to a board so tight that his every word would just barely squeak out.
Pedophiles are strongly advised to stay away from playgrounds.
Washed up, asinine, troglodyte excuses for baseball players who can’t resist attempted murder during a game should be kept just as far away.
Don’t hate me. ‘Cuz you know I’m right.