Another Distraction in Badassery

The baseball world had another bi-monthly steroid colonoscopy this week when the startling news surfaced that Sammy Sosa may have had a little juice boost when he and Mark McGwire were launching homeruns off stadiums’ third decks. The sports world hasn’t happened upon a piece of news this startling since we found out that Billie Jean King was into chicks. (Ed. Note: apologies to my lesbian readers. Lesbian jokes in back-to-back posts is insensitive).

Roids? Nah.

Butch? Nah.

The news that everyone already knew about Sosa shooting up Mexican donkey show drugs brings us to another episode of “Distraction in Badassery”. Cubs’ fans can be an insufferable bunch. It’s hip to love the Cubs. It’s fun being the “lovable loser”. Its fun moving to Chicago, living in the largely gay and overpriced Wrigleyville neighborhood, and declaring yourself a lifelong Cubs fan. I think there are eight kids from my high school that did this. If the Cubs ever stumble into a World Series championship their fans won’t know what to do with themselves. They groveled and played the victim for so long as the “storied franchise that can’t catch a break” that their fans might turn into… wait for it… Red Sox fans.

Jimmy Fallon in the cinematic gem "Fever Pitch"

I am not condemning the organization itself. It’s hard to crack on a franchise that spawned the likes of Ron Santo, Billy Williams, Ernie Banks, Andre Dawson and Ryne Sandberg. It is also hard to rip on a franchise that gave microphone carte blanche to a half-wit alcoholic in Harry Carey. Before the days of Sosa knocking beisbols out of Wrigley with corked bats, there was an old-school badass holding down first base by the name of Mark Eugene Grace.

Gracey was a fixture in the Cubs’ (and later Diamondbacks) lineup for over a decade. The guy collected doubles the way Kirstie Alley collects cellulite (Ed. Note: KA is a slumpbuster. Keep reading!). As his career progressed and modern training methods for athletes such as yoga, flexibility, and sobriety became commonplace, Grace stuck to his roots. While many players traveled with personal trainers and masseuses on the road, Grace was vocal about his post game routine of a steam, a cigarette, and a Budweiser. Grace wasn’t wearing batting gloves when wearing batting gloves was cool. Grace used enough pine-tar to kill an Austrian forest. Grace once shoved an apple in the mouth of an opposing team’s bat boy and smoke-cooked him in his backyard. In short, Mark Grace was John Wayne in baseball spikes. Let’s take a gander at some of the legendary quotes from Gracey over the years…

On the feeling of playing in and winning a World Series, October 2001... "If you only understood how great this is for me. It was better than anything I could've imagined. It is better than sex. But then again, I'm kind of lousy at that."

On the accuracy of his bobblehead doll, given away at Bank One Ballpark on August 18, 2001... "I'm a pretty ugly guy, and it's a pretty ugly doll, so I think they did of good job of capturing my likeness."

On the definition of a "slumpbuster", after being pressed by to clarify the baseball slang term... "A slumpbuster is when you have to take one for the team. It's finding the biggest, nastiest, fattest broad, and you put the wood to her to come out of your slump. Also known as 'jumping on a grenade for the team'."

Hey Kirstie! Mark has been in a bit of a slump at the plate. Free tonight?

Send all proceeds to the Mark Grace Slump Busting Fund

Would this badass be friends with A-Rod? Hell and No. Would he be the Best Man at Ben Franklin’s wedding? You’re damn right.

Some media outlets are assessing the Hall of Fame credibility of Sammy Sosa. How this is even up for discussion is beyond me. He’s out with Clemens and company. Make room for more guys like Mark Grace who’s Major League career matched his remarkable personality. Cheers to you, badass.