Results tagged ‘ Chet Lemon ’

Warm and a Bit Too Fuzzy (or How to Overuse Italics)

achtung.jpgAchtung!  For my esteemed yet often misguided colleague, Mr. Allen Krause has finally done what no one ever thought possible: he emptied his soul of memories sweet and dear to his heart, thus proving that indeed, he does obtain some semblance of emotion, a hint – albeit faint — of feeling.

But just who knew his heart was set on Alan Trammell?

Well, actually, I did… but that’s only because I’ve been listening to Mr. Krause’s Ode-to-Trammell for over eleven years now.  Trammell this and Trammell that… Trammell and Whitaker and Lemon and Gibson and Parrish and Trammell and Trammell and TRAMMELL!

Alright.  I get it.  We get it.  Mr. Krause is in love with Alan Trammell

Fine.  There’s nothing wrong with that, Al.  And I especially applaud you for realizing that despite your ongoing man-crush and ever-growing infatuation with all things #3, that you are still able to logically conclude that Trammell has no business in the Hall of Fame.  Because he doesn’t.  If you really want to argue the HOF case of a deserving ex-Detroit Tiger, come to your senses and rally behind the Jack Morris train. (*for more information on the blasphemous errors of Mr. Krause’s ways regarding HOF worthy Tigers, click *here*)

What I (and most probably all RSBS readers) can’t seem to understand is why, if Alan Trammell and Lou Whitaker remain so dear to thy heart, Mr. Krause, could you not find a better picture of this treasured double-play combo than this:

trammell and whitaker.jpgIt’s 2008, Al, and with the advent of the interweb, CNN’s ability to “beam” people “up” on live television and the fact that a black man will be the president of US America, one would think you’d be able to find at least one decent picture of your childhood sweethearts.

The one you provided looks awfully similar to this anomaly of reality:

bigfoot.jpgOr, this:

ufo.jpgEither way, they’re all too fuzzy… too fuzzy to be considered anything but fantasy.

And you’re right, Al, the possibility of Trammell ever donning his face on a Cooperstown plaque is about as possible as Bigfoot piloting a UFO over Detroit during a World Series championship parade.

It just ain’t gonna happen.

So go ahead.  Do what you do.  Hate me.  Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeffy

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 67 other followers