Funny: post from another blog

I don't normally do this, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity of quoting this hilarious story from anther blog. The writer under the name "Schuyla" said the following (it's a bit long, but rewarding):

The Tom Glavine Renaissance experienced yet another phase on Tuesday night, as the veteran lefty vanquished the St. Louis Cardinals, pitching six innings for the win. All of this was due to what happened on June 19, 2005.
Tom Glavine faces the Seattle Mariners on the road. The lefty gets shellacked to the tune of 6 ER in 2 1/3 innings. He comes in to talk about the loss with Pedro.

"Dr. Pedro, why can't I pitch well?"
"Tom, I don't know. Why don't you ask DeJean?"

"Mighty Mike, why can't I pitch well?"
"Hang on Tom. WRIGHT DESERVED AN ERROR! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? BULL!"
"What?"
"Go see Zambrano."

"¿Hola, Victor, why can't I pitch well?"
"No lo siento. Throw more pitches that are out of the strike zone maybe? Hit some more batters?"
"I'm good, thanks."
"Dios mio. Go talk to Ishii."

"Kaz, I need to ask you a question. Why can't I pitch well?"
"I don't really know. Maybe you should throw more balloon-like curves."
"I don't have a good curve!"
"Well then go ask Heilman!"

"Aaron, why can't I pitch well?"
"Tom, you're a likely hall of famer and I'm Aaron Heilman."
"Oh, sorry."
"Talk to 'Bert. He knows what he's doing."

"Roberto, why can't I pitch well?"
"Well, do you have a 96 MPH fastball?"
"Uh, no."
"Well, then. You look a lot like Kris. Go talk to him."

"KB, why can't I pitch?"
"Well, have you already tried coming down with a bunch of minor injuries, blaming your collegiate and former team's coaching staff for ruining your arm?"
"No..."
"Try that then. If not, get a slutty wife. If you can't even do that, go talk to that chubby lefty who needs a haircut."

"Royce, my boy! Why can't I pitch?"
"Duuuuude, have you ever watched Dark Side of the Moon with Wizard of Oz in your record player?"
"Well this can't be helpful."
"Waiiiiit, dude, I totally meant the opposite of that. Okay, well, go talk to Piazza. I think he had a 40-win season once."
"You mean 40 homers."
"Yeah, sure."
"Thanks, Royce. Stay away from my kids."

"Mike, why can't I pitch?"
"I dunno, Tom. I try to help behind the plate."
"Well, sure you do, but sometimes you aren't very good at holding the strike zone! Or throwing out runners!"
"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm Mike friggin' Piazza! I don't have to take this! I'm going to go sulk! Ask Fran Healy!"

"Fran, why can't I pitch?"
"Tom, the reason why you can't Nikon pitch is because so many balls go over the Geico sign during the Amtrak Acela Home Run Inning! I don't like watching them sail into the Pepsi picnic area! And you know what happens when somebody hits the Budweiser sign."
"I know what happens. I've seen them."
"Here's one thing you should see: Jose Reyes run! He and David Wright are really exciting players!"
"Thanks, Fran..."
"Have you ever had one of those Primo Italian sausages? They're very good."
"I have to go..."
"Ralph Branca... Ralph Kiner... Johnny Olerud! VORP! Go talk to Rickey. He's still around."
"As an instructor. Thanks again, Fran."
"You're Chevy welcome, and that's a can of corn."

"It's Tommy. What can Rickey do for Tommy?"
"Rickey, why can't I pitch?"
"Well, Tommy gun, I'll tell ya a thing or two about pitching. It's easy. Rickey could pitch, but he's too busy being better than those pitchers he faces. Rickey can do it all, field, hit, run, play baseballs."
"But what's wrong with my pitches?"
"Well, Tombola, I think you don't throw enough pitches in the strike zone."
"But what about my change up?"
"Well, Tomfool, you don't know a change-up 'till you've partied through dawn with Greg Vaughn. Who you thought was straight-o, but no, TomTom Club, he's gayer than a banan-o."
"Excuse me? I won two Cy Youngs."
"Yeah, Rickey cares. You ever won an MVP, Tom Hanks?"
"No, can't say I have..."
"Go talk to Rey-O. He can help."

"You know man, I hit the ball, I run the bases, I swing and hit the ball."
"Jose, why can't I pitch?"
"You know man, you pitch the ball, you run the bases, you throw and pitch the ball, you know?"
"I don't think I follow. Should I throw more curveballs?"
"You know man, you throw the curveballs, you run the bases, you swing and hit the ball, man."
"What?"
"You know man, you hit the ball, you run the bases, you hit a triple."
"I don't hit triples."
"You know man, go talk to Matsui, he's a man among men."

"Kaz, why can't I pitch?"
"NO!"
"What?"
"(through interpreter) I'm very sorry. I will try my hardest to do my best. I respect the fans of New York and I think they are great people who just want to see good baseball."
"Well, maybe I shouldn't be asking you."
"I respect your opinion!"
"Okay..."

"Oh, lonesome Glavinely soul, whoever shalt I talk to? Whatever can I do to save myself? I'm Tom friggin' Glavine!"
"Yes. Mahalo."
"Agbayani?"
"No, Tom. It's the ghost of Tyler Yates, who is sort of the ghost of Mark Guthrie who is the ghost of David Justice who is the ghost of Robin Ventura."
"What?"
"Fine. It's Tyler goddamn Yates! I can help, I swear."
"How so?"
"I know a guy. He's a man trained in all sorts of pitching. I can give him a heads-up if you want."
"Tom Emanski?"
"No. They call him a healer. I call him 'the jacket.'"
"Oh no. Not him. He really creeps me out."
"Tom, you have to talk to him. This is what they pay him to do."
"He couldn't fix you!"
"Well, in case you joined us late in this conversation, I'm Tyler Yates."
"He couldn't fix James Baldwin!"
"Fluke."
"He couldn't turn Dae-Sung Koo into a lethal lefty!"
"Fluke."
"Hell, he actually managed to make Kaz Ishii and Victor Zambrano into worse pitchers than they originally were."
"Fluke. Fluke. The man fixed Barry Zito!"
"Barry Zito was never broken."
"He fixed Tim Hudson!"
"Huddy is one of the most consistent pitchers in all of baseball."
"He made Billy Koch look like Billy Wagner and Billy Taylor look like Jason Isringhausen, who used to look like Billy Taylor, but then he didn't, and now he does again."
"Listen, Tyler, I don't think I can go through with it. Last time he tried to put my pitching arm on a Jose Cuervo drip."
"It's called alternative methods of teaching pitching."
"Well do I really have to go by it? I'm Tom Glavine!"
"Well, Tom, you can toil in mediocrity until that aged left arm of yours falls off and nobody sheds a tear, or you can take a gamble on Slick Rick and his jacket of pitching skills. Your choice."
"Thanks, Yatesy, you've been helpful."
"You're welcome, Tom. Could you foot the bill for my next Tommy John surgery? I want Don Ho to perform it, but apparently his fees are a little out of my price range."
"No."
"Okay... Aloha, my buddy!"

TOM GLAVINE KNOCKS ON THE JANITOR'S CLOSET. THE DOOR IS EMBLAZONED WITH A PLAQUE THAT SAYS "CEO OF PITCHING"

"Who's there?"
"Rick, it's just me. Are you... making... meth?"
"No, I just enjoy the taste of boiled Sudafed and Windex. It cleanses the palette."
"This was a bad idea."
"You're not going to tell Wilpon, are you?"
"No, I guess I won't. But you have to help me first. I'm having trouble pitching."
"Hah. If that isn't the understatement of the year..."
"I resent that. I won two Cy Youngs!"
"Listen, I spoke with the ghost of Jerry Garcia three weeks ago. He said 'Driving that train, high on cocaine, Casey Jones YOU BETTER watch your speed. Trouble ahead, trouble behind, And you know that notion just crossed my mind.'"
"You've been incredibly helpful, Rick."
"No, Tom, you don't get it! I want to help you! I really do. Did you ever try the Tequila drip? That's the kind of thing that worked for Barry Zito and that's what's going to work for you."
"Rick... I'm not Barry Zito. I'm Tom Glavine and I want to be treated like I am Tom Glavine."
"Well then, Tommy, in the words of Mike Breen, let's go to the videotape."
Out of a pocket in Rick's ubiquitous nylon-polyester jacket, he whips out a tiny cassette. Rick inserts the videocassette into the nearby player.
"It's 1995. Game 6. I threw eight innings of shutout baseball. We won, 1-0. Clinched the series. I remember it like it was yesterday."
"Well, it's not like you're throwing any harder. It could just as well be yesterday."
"But I was pitching like that every year with the Mets! First I do what Vern "The Golden" Ruhle tells me to do and throw all of these curveballs, and then they get hit hard..."
"Tom, it's just me now. You have to listen. I promise we can work on whatever without Wilson Betemit seeing a thing."
"Betemawhoseawhatsit?"
"That's just your problem, Tom. You have to respect your opposition. He's Wilson Betemit, and according to the resident Mets blogger at Crosstown Rivals, he will do all he can to singlehandedly destroy the Mets. And he, more so than any other Brave, is capable of doing it."
"You can't mean that. What about all the good players I played with? Chipper Jones, Brian Jordan, Rafael Furcal, Andres Galarraga, Javy Lopez, Eddie Perez, Bret Boone, Walt Weiss and Ryan Klesko? Do they not exist? I'm freaking out about the mere concept of keeping Andruw Jones, Gerald Williams and Otis Nixon in check on the basepaths. And that Hank Aaron is closing in on Babe Ruth's all-time home run record."
"Well, I thought you were the enlightened one, but apparently you're just like all of the others. I will educate you with these NL East flashcards I have. This is Wilson Betemit. He's the best player in the NL East. The Braves also have Jeff Francoeur, a good young slugger. Ryan Howard, Bobby Abreu, Chase Utley and Pat Burrell can hit it far for the Phillies-"
"But what about Mike Schmidt? He's a tough one. They have Doug Glanville too. And have you heard about this kid Rolen that's coming up? He's supposed to be the next Schmidt. And if you forget about John Kruk and Len Dykstra, well then, you're in for a world of hurt."
"No, Tom. That was a long time ago. Anyway, this is Alfonso Soriano. He plays second base for the Nationals. And here's Miguel Cabrera. He plays for the Marlins."
"The who and the whats?"
"They're new teams in the NL East. The Marlins have been around since 1993, so I expected you to know that one. And the Nationals, they showed up in 2005, so I can't really fault you there. They used to be called the Expos."
"Oh, the Expos! Tell Rusty Staub I said hello. Oh that Grande Orange!"
"Anyway, Tom, I think I know what to do about your problem. I figure that if you just throw these cheesy changeups and fastballs to the outside of the plate, you're only using half of the plate. Hitters can lean out over the plate. Have you considered using a cutter and/or inside fastball?"
"Wait, Rick. Are you serious? You actually know how to coach pitching? I thought you were all about karma and reformation of the country's 'archaic drug laws.' This is a really surprising development, especially since I heard all you told Victor was 'just do it' and you gave him a bunch of Nike memorabilia. Then, according to legend, you drugged him, stole his arm tendons and replaced them with those Paul Wilson's old arm that you found in the basement."
"I am a licensed medical professional. I can perform Tommy John surgery and, according to recent studies, peyote and Rohypnol can be an effective anesthetic. And furthermore, I don't appreciate you impugning my methods. I fixed Barry Zito."
"For the last time, Barry Zito was never broken. I'll try to take your tips into account. Do you have any other suggestions?"
"I have one final idea. I learned it when I took Tai Chi with Bill Lee and Horacio Ramirez. It's called beating the snot out of Tom Glavine and getting those replacement teeth back in your head."
"Okay, Rick. Any better ideas?"
"I have this jacket..."
"I'm leaving."
"No, just wait. It has strong ionic currents running through it that can turn your arm into a fusion of Brad Lidge and Randy Johnson during their primes. You can throw high-90s with an unquestionably lethal slider."
"I think you're deceiving me."
"Listen, Tom. I wear this jacket for strictly ridiculous purposes. Call it superstition, but I do think it seriously brings me luck."
"Are you sure it's not just a placebo jacket?"
"I toured all of 1997 with Placebo! I earned that jacket!"
"Jeez, Rick. I'll wear the damn jacket. Only when I'm not pitching, though."
"Glad we're on the same page."