Some Poor Busboy Just Got Waylaid

Had an odd, very late shift tonight. It was due to me being the Human Swiss Army Knife for what turned out to be the Padres Awards Banquent Slash Cerebral Palsy Fundraiser.

A hell of a lot of fun was had.

THINGS I LEARNED:
Ballplayers, past, present, or future, draw more dimes than a bank in a small town. It was like a All-Blonde-You-Can-Eat buffet with a few exceptions.

Dave Winfield? GOOD PEOPLE. That's right, motherbitches.

Cute girls can be hot wearing baseball uniforms. I don't know why, exactly, that's just how it is.

Doing the Christian pound-your-chest-and-point-at-random-"homie" to a mascot dressed up in a suit is comedy gold.

One of the local TV newscasters who's been on seemingly since before I was born is MAYBE five feet. When I dwarf somebody, to quote Sir Lewis of Black, thaaaaat's....fucked up.

Jeanne Zelasko cleans up nice.

Khalid Greene looks like Spicoli and is nowhere near as verbose.

But the highlight of the night...

Towards the end, Brian Giles gets an award. The man is a defensive wizard, in the running or perhaps has won the Gold Glove. An exceptional player on a good team. He grabs the award and goes to do the victory pose photo op.

It slips from his hands.

It is a big ass glass home plate.

*KEERASH*

I had the best vantage point, at the doorway looking dead center at the podium where the speeches and auction (surprisingly fun to watch) were held. Everybody in the room does the horrified gasp, which is the first time I can remember hearing that and not seeing it as a cliche in a flick or show. Ten seconds later, everybody from Tim Flannery to Randy Jones is laughing their ass off. I laughed so hard, the door I was leaning against went from autolock to self serve because I leaned against it so hard. Two minutes straight. From security to the cameramen from the local networks, just practically dying. It doesn't matter what Brian Giles does the rest of his life; hell, he could save Jessica Alba from a new millennium Armageddon, and every time I see him from now on it's going to be *KEERASH* *KEERASH* *KEERASH*

I say to the event manger afterwards "We need to pick up the shards and sell them on eBay"; sadly, she thought I was kidding.

And then, to conclude the night, in front of my boss I say to departing manager Bruce Bochy and general manager Kevin Towers, "I don't mean to tell you how to run your franchise or anything, but you might want to switch Giles to DH."

Towers was not amused. Everybody else thought it was hilarious, though.

I'm almost psyched for baseball season again. Who would thunk it?

Ambient music: Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam feat. Full Force - I Wonder If I Take You Home