Malapropping up A-Rod
Press conference flub in baseball's grand tradition and more items of disinterest
During his latest hummina-hummina-hummina in front of the massed gadgets of the media on Tuesday, Alex "Tommy Flanagan" Rodriquez echoed the old maxim that "ninety percent of the game is half mental" while trying to not explain whether steroids had actually enhanced his performance. A-Rod also evoked more than one Hall of Famer while saying, "I understand the questions and the doubt. And I laid my bed, I'm going to have to sit on it" -- a beautifully tortured way of saying he realizes that he's going to have to recline in this jolly little mess of his own making.
When it comes to mangling the language and common expressions, only politicians can rival athletes, especially baseball players. So, in honor of A-Roid's contribution to the catalogue, and in fond remembrance of George W. "There's an old saying in Tennessee -- I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee -- that says, fool me once, shame on -- shame on you. Fool me --you can't get fooled again" Bush and Dan "This isn't a man who is leaving with his head between his legs" Quayle, Getting Loose presents a small handful of its horsehide favorites:
"There's two heads to every coin."
"If Pete Rose brings the Reds in first, they ought to bronze him and put him in cement."
"I've made a couple of mistakes I'd like to do over."
"Contrary to popular belief, I've always had a wonderful repertoire with my players."
"How is our morale? Morality at this point isn't a factor."
"They're very much alike in a lot of similarities."
"A lot of people my age are dead at the present time."
Mickey "The Great Gozzlehead" Rivers
"Me and George and Billy are two of a kind."
"My goals are to hit .300, score 100 runs, and stay injury-prone."
"Some guys are inwardly outgoing."
"I think one of the most difficult things for anyone who's played baseball is to accept the fact that maybe the players today are playing just as well as ever."
"Reggie Jackson called himself the spoon that stirred the cup."
"We'll be right back after this word from Manufacturer's Hangover."
"A nickel ain't worth a dime anymore."
"If you come to a fork in the road, take it."
"You've got to be very careful if you don't know where you are going because you might not get there."
"We made too many wrong mistakes."
"The doctors x-rayed my head and found nothing."
"Fans, don't fail to miss tomorrow's game."
Weight of the Wii
This space can personally attest to the contraption's motivational mastery as it does bluntly assess your physical condition as soon as you enter your age, height and weight, and step on it. With this space's family looking on (and smirking), The Wii whirred, beeped and actually groaned before intoning its weedy little mechanical voice: "Jeez, try a salad once in a while." Getting Loose now reports the loss of 10 pounds, which apparently fell out of its pocket while riding the underground from East Ham to Pudding Mill Lane last week.
Unfounded Rumor of the Week
While the media, FBI, Interpol, Scotland Yard and Mossad were feverishly searching for A-Rod's needle-happy cousin -- now reported to be a chap named Yuri Sucart -- our sauces told us that he was hiding out in a big old house on Cemetary Lane in Miami with his Cousin Gomez, Uncle Fester and the rest of the family, leaving his most famous relative in the Lurch, if you will.
Newshounds were given the bum's rush by Sucart's wife, so Getting Loose generously releases this first photo of the Cousin-In-Question, which was conveniently left for this space (the photo, not the cousin) in a hollow stump on the front lawn in the dead of night. No need to thank us. Just doing our part to further the interests of journalism and help get to the bottom of a burning question that has been tormenting the world like a bad chili dog smothered in angry onions.
Another Dissatisfied Customer
Availing himself of the handy -- and completely free -- Epistle Portal (see below) reader Yurgus in JohnnyKnoxville, TN took umbrage at the photo in the Unfounded Rumor section of last week's edition.
Actually, fair Yurgus took umbrage at the entire shootin' match, scrawling:
"It's adding insult to injury that you had to appropriate a picture of the evolved man from "The Sixth Finger" ("Outer Limits") for this article...NOT funny or amusing...<yawn>...
Well, around here, the customer is king and the king is always right. So while Getting Loose wishes to plead guilty to being old and foolish and curious, this space -- which is totally amateur hour, we really don't know what we're doing -- hereby retracts the offending photograph for the actual, authentic shot of the top secret MLB steroid mutant who is reportedly squirreled away in an underground lab near Poofter's Froth, Wyoming. (Note: Bud Selig kindly directs your blame for this horror to the Players Association.)
Getting Loose now requests that you judge this space not on the what it has done or failed to do during the past five years, but what it will do from this day forward. Foul pole to foul pole, I think you'll agree we've been pretty, well, foul.
The Epistle Portal
Now that you've waded through this week's installment, we're sure you'd like to join Good Sir Yurgus, seize the torch of righteous indignation, and beseige the castle where this literary Frankenstein was stitched together from bits of moldering cadaver. After you avail yourself of a little wine and spongecake, why not direct your fiery wrath in the direction of the space-time portal conveniently located on your right? The tinkers and cobblers who render Getting Loose prone and inert each week read everything that comes their way -- and have the black eyes to prove it -- so who knows? It could be your scream of "Cease and desist you fiend!" that lends a gracenote of sanity to next week's proceedings.
And now...to the lumber yard!!!!