Lenn Sakata just called and told me I had to check this shit out! Nothing like spring training, man. Lazing by the pool and youtubing it man! I love it.
By the way, JD Drew is a punk and we're better off without that pansy. All year, I told him he had to carry us. And where did he carry us? Nowhere, man, nowhere. He just carried his sorry ass self over to Beantown. Have fun, Franny with that one, cuz you got yourself a hot one on your hands tonite! Sheeeeeeaat!
Eddie Loves Mix CD's My friend Hot Tub Eric made me this amazing mix CD awhile back. I got a little pottymouth on this but here's the review I sent him. Just remember, I'm a family man now.
1. jimmy lewis - a message to the ladies fuck yeah! from the first fucking moments, this is clearly an eddie type mix. i liked listening to this song while watching some ho teabag t-bone shelby while lenn sakata took notes behind a two way mirror. A
2. curtis knight- the devil made me do it that’s what i always used to say when i would get thrown out of a game by that cocksucker of an umpire ken kaiser A-
3. velvet hammer - i’m the rock from 77-88, that was indeed mr. eddie murray. then the fans had to turn on me and i was out of baltimore and it was never the same again. B+
4. jerry washington - let me love you right or wrong i whispered this to cal jr on one sunny spring morning - may 82. the rest is history. A-
5. james rivers- bad bad whiskey “i’m going to beat on you until i get tired.” that’s what weaver used to say to palmer after a few too many. shit, i miss those days. A
6. ollie nightingale- a good woman at home (is better than two in the street) sometimes that is true but when you got hos in every port like t-bone did, it sort of blows this theory to shit. A
7. donald height - if it ain’t clean that scream reminds me of kenny singleton’s high pitched yap when i’d drive him in with a double in the gap. fuck yeah! A
8. ac reed - boogaloo tramp we used to listen to this after games won by 3 run homers in the late innings. A-
9. i like girls - jj jackson truer words have not been spoken. A+
10. bill moss - sock it to em’ soul brother i used to like to sing this song and shout my name out during the whole oj simpson, willie mays part. A+
11. slim harpo - i got my finger on your trigger i know this song is about sex and all but i like to think about it as me having my hand on the sweet bat handle and how it feels so good when i hit the ball on the sweet spot. A
12. jj barnes - chains of love disco dan ford used to like to listen to this song while doing lines after games back in ‘82-83. A-
13. syl johnson - same kind of thing once when i was listening to this in the clubhouse, don stanhouse came over and told me to turn off my nigger music. the next day, he was traded. A-
14. steve bishop - you got me once i hit a grand slam to win the game and then had a foursome in the clubhouse afterwords. what can i say, the ladies love eddie. this song reminds me of that. A
15. jesse james - ain’t nobody gonna get married that’s what i used to think. no more. i’ve mellowed. but man, i did live it up. A-
16. willie mitchell - everything is gonna be alright that’s what edward bennett wiliams told me before the 88 season but that wasn’t to be. and i’m still pissed the way they fucked over cal sr that year. how do you motherfucking fire a manager after 6 games? fuck. A
17. augie ramirez - back my bag you should have seen floyd rayford try to teach rick dempsey how to dance to this song. A
18. junior wells - up in heah that’s what what we used to sing about jim palmer’s tight little asshole. he didn’t like it much. A-
19. gentlemen and their ladies - party bump, pt 1. when we won in 83, i thought there would be more. but part 1 never turned into part 2. A-
20. the kicking mustangs - kicking ass this was the oriole way for a good long time. A
21. alvin cash - you shot me through the grease that’s what we used to call squeezing a rosin bag out of your anus for kicks A-
22. lowell fulsom - let’s go get stoned i’ve never touched the stuff. A-
Eddie Hates Sweeps God Damnit! I really thought we could do better than that. I'm too drained to get into it right now but I'm not too happy. I'll holler back at you all come November. Right now, I'm just going to be chillin' in front of my TV with my Vitamin water and my Sports Weekly watching some great baseball.
Eddie Doesn't Like Imposters It has been brought to my attention that there is an imposter on this blog. My good friend T-Bone Shelby posted a comment on here awhile ago. But I've been tipped that maybe it was some snot nosed New York lawyer instead. I won't divulge my sources but I'm not happy. While I won't comment about the content of T-Bone's comment, it did mention things that only he would know about.
Shit, the more I think about it, the more I'm not sure about this. T-Bone and I had plans to party for our birthdays this year - his is one day before mine (and fuck no, we don't celebrate with that punk Bobby Bonilla - also born on T-Bone's big day). But then I got the call from Tommy and was ready to bleed some Dodger blue, y'all. So we had to cancel our plans. Who would steal T-Bone's thunder? That is just jive, you know.
I postulate that it is just that T-Bone isn't quite as computer literate as yours truly. But nothing can take away his amazing throwing arm. Do you remember that perfect throw in that last series in '82? I still choke up sometimes when I think about that last weekend for Earl. That guy was a hardass but he expected things done the right way - the Oriole Way. And so do I. Get your ass ready Julio Lugo to do some serious pregame batting drills. I will turn that guy into the superstar he should be or my name isn't Eddie Murray.
Sorry to all my fans out there but it is hard to tutor 25 guys (well make it 23 - Kent is a bastard and Nomar doesn't need any help) and keep current on a mothafucking blog! I do want to write about the whole A-Rod quaqmire soon though. Man, that whole thing makes me chuckle.
Eddie Doesn't Like Motorcycles I know it is only 2/22 but I don't know how much more I can take of a certain mustachioed second basemen. Man, what an asshole. More later.
Eddie Loves His Birthday I've been much too busy recently to write. Learning about my new squad takes a lot of work and don't let it ever be said that Eddie Clarence isn't a hard worker.
But the reason I post now is to remind you that my 50th birthday is in three days!
Eddie Does Not Like Dumb Accusations But He Does Like the Seahawks Just killing some time before the big game today. And I was reading this article that Lenny Sakata just sent me. It is about greenies. The writer writes, "The result, however, is not one that most fans will like. The game is liable to become more sluggish. A discerning fan may notice it; a great many players will feel it." This jerk says the game will get boring and that most players use these things. I'll tell you one thing - Eddie Clarence Murray never used that shit. Never. I'm not going to get all Raphael Palmeiro on you or anything but I'll leave it at that.
F this writer you know! He doesn't know. He's not a player. Ballplayers know these things. This really has got me scufflin' right now. Truly.
Eddie Loves His New Job Man, it feels so damn fantastic to be back in the saddle. None of that pussy Eric Wedge type bullshit. First of all, I'd like to say thanks to my boy over there at Can't Stop the Bleeding for giving me more respect than 10,000 Mark Shapiros.
I'm going to be really busy this year. It has been awhile since I was in the NL so I've got some studying to do. Then again, I'm not going to do any of that number crunching bullshit that Shapiro had me do. You know what the key to hitting is? See the ball and hit the ball! Fuck. I'm not sure who said that but it might have been Ted Williams - another "surly" sweetheart who resides in the Hall of Fame!
Speaking of the Hall of Fame, I've got to tell my boy Rich Gossage to shut the hell up! You are on the cusp, man! Why are you bitching like George Brett after you hit him in the head with one of your fastballs. Look, I knew that those guys in the media hated me so I kept my motherfucking mouth shut until I got into the Hall. Do the same, and you'll see some positive results.
Can you believe that this is Eddie Murray giving guys advice on how to deal with the media? Shit, I know it is hard to believe too. But seeing as how no one seems to know about this blog, I can pop off here as much as I damn well please, you know.
Speaking of dealing with the media, how'd you like my brilliant nondescript Jeter-esque doublespeak the other day after I got my new gig.
Here are some translations but please keep this here. What is said at Eddie Murray, stays at Eddie Murray.
On the Dodgers: "It’s not an empty organization. They’ve got some good ballplayers here. There are strong veterans and a lot of interesting prospects. If this ballclub stays healthy, we could do some damage."
What I meant was: Don't fuck with me, media. If guys get injured, it isn't my fault. I'm glad Depodeesta was fired because he's worse than Shapiro. Bitchass Jeff Kent (he's damn lucky that I was traded eight days before he was acquired by the Indians in '95 because even then I would have taken him down a notch, I mean come on, I already had to play just a few feet from him during the entire '93 season with the Mets) better watch his back. He best not be trying to do me like he did Milton.
On getting fired from Cleveland, I said, “You’re hired sometimes to be fired. It wasn’t about anything that happened on the field. There are cases where you don’t get along with everybody.”
What I meant was: Victor Martinez is a primadonna baby. And Casey Blake doesn't know how to deal with stress. And Johnny Peralta has a problem with father figures. But Pronk is alright.
New manager Grady Little said this about not asking me about getting fired from Cleveland. “I haven’t asked him, and at the same time, he hasn’t asked me why I left Pedro Martinez in that game." His job will be mine by May 2007. Heh heh, just kidding. I wouldn't try to undermine Skip. Except for Eric Wedge, that is. And look where that got be.
Oh well, after a few months of R and R, I'm ready to be back. I'm at home, out of the stinking Midwest and I'm ready. Pitchers and catchers report on 2/15 but I'll be there early. Not only am I excited to get back on the field but I'm also excited to get back to the fantastic Applebee's they got there.
Eddie Loves the Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name I love that Brokeback Mountain movie. Just back from the multiplex and damn that movie was refreshing. I'm so sick of that Hugh Grant bullshit type romantic comedy. "Love, Actually" my Hall of Fame ass! Shit.
Brokeback Mountain is heartbreaking, man. Heartbreaking. Listen, I don't swing that way (even though I was one of the best hitters who could swing the big lumber from both sides of the dish, you know what I'm saying?) but this movie knocked me on my ass.
I don't know. Some people at church hate this movie but they won't even see it so what do they know? I'm not going to out any brothers or nothing, but have you noticed that the most pious amongst us are the ones with the skeletons in the closet?
Anyway, this movie got me to thinking about why I loved it so much. And I realized it is because I identify with Ennis Del Mar. You know, the strong silent type who has a hard time sharing his feelings. That's me. I always have been the one to speak softly but carry a big stick. Just ask Bert Blyleven. And I guess I also really liked this movie because Jack Twist reminded me of my boy Cal Ripken. Always goofing around, always wanting attention. Man, that scene when Ennis and Jack were goofing around wrestling back in '63, all I've got to say is 'Ol Blue Eyes Ripken, Tiger Stadium - 1982. 'Nuff said. I'm not saying nothing, just good clean American fun. But damn that young man was rambunctious.
On a sidenote, I'd like to thank Denny Martinez for teaching me how to put links on here. Ever since he got off the sauce, he's been nothing but a stand up guy.
Eddie Loves Project Runway I bet you are surprised about that, aren't you? I always struck you as super serious, right? Hey, don't let those pencil pushers in the media trick you. I'm just a regular guy. Well, as much as a guy who has 504 homers and 3,255 hits can be a regular guy. And you got to know - I did that without any supplements or any of that jive shit. Not even any greenies.
Anyway, I'm late to this game. I didn't watch the first season but it got such tremendous buzz, you know what I'm saying? So I decided to give this season a shot. And let me tell you, I'm hooked! That shit is gold. Man!
You also are probably surprised that my favorite is Andrae. I know. I know. You're saying, "But Eddie, that guy is such a crybaby! Eddie, you always exuded such calm and class. How can you like that chump?" Heh, heh. No problem answering that question. First of all, you are right, I was calm and collected - except when that fatso Ken Kaiser got in my face. I mean, seriously what was wrong that guy? Some umps think that the fans are there to see their out of shape asses. How wrong could that be? That guy needed some serious therapy.
But I digress. Yes, I didn't necessarily start crying to sway an ump or anything like that. Remember that movie? That one about no crying in baseball? Hah! That is so true. But then again, there weren't hot chicks like Geena Davis and Madonna knocking around in major league clubhouses in my playing days. I'd squirt a few for them! Then again, it has been too long since I've been in a major league clubhouse (5 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days to be exact) so maybe things have changed since I last suited up. Man, I'm cracking myself up TO- NITE!
So yeah, Andrae! Man, that guy is great! If you haven’t watched the show yet, do yourself a favor. That guy is from LA so you know that I’ve got to get him some props, dig? LA in the house! Hell, yes. And when that conniving fool Santino started crying, the show couldn’t be any finer. He’s lucky I wasn’t running that show because I would have kicked him out faster than you could say “You got me scufflin’!”
Andrae kinds of reminds me of my last year with the Orioles in ’88. Billy Ripken was just a young snot-nosed whippersnapper in those days, not the polished radio star of today. He used to come up to me with tears in his eyes and say, “Eddie, my brother doesn’t have time for me and I’m having doubts if I can make it as a major leaguer.” I took that boy under my wing. It was the least I could do. He was so sad. Look, I helped Calvin out by instilling my strong Eddie Murray work ethic in him. But he didn’t quite get my lectures about sensitivity. And he let his younger brother twist in the wind.
Listen, I love Calvin. I really really do. He’s a good boy. But let’s just say that he was never really the same when there weren’t cameras around. A little aloof, you know. Whereas, I didn’t really shine unless the cameras were off – on a personal level. So I helped young William out that year. Granted, there was only so much I could do. He only hit .207 that year in over 500 at-bats. But I kept his head above water. And he played stellar defense. That was his one real chance in the majors. He never had 500 at-bats again but let’s be real, that motha just couldn’t hit a curveball.
That 1988 team was the one that started the year with 21 straight losses so who gave a rat’s ass who we put out there? I still can’t believe the poor rap that Calvin Sr. got for that. Fired after only 6 games! What a bitch that was! Can you believe Frank Robinson is still managing? How is it that I can’t get a job to save my life but that ornery mofo keeps plugging away?
Eddie Likes Other Sports Some people might not know this but one of my best friends in baseball is none other than the Venezualan Viceroy - Alvaro Espinoza. While he wasn't blessed with the skills that I was, Espinoza managed to put together a major league career that spanned over thirteen years. All heart that guy. And let me tell you something - anyone who could put up with the drunken outbursts of Joey Belle, the preening of Kenny (Never Met a Mirror I Didn't Loooooooove) Lofton, and the lobotomized Mike Hargrove is alright in my book.
But the main reason I'm thinking about Alvy today is soccer or as my South American fans refer to it - futbol. I must admit, before I met Alvy, I was very American-centric in my sports tastes. But back in '94, lil' Alvy Espinoza went freakin' nuts during the World Cup. You see, the World Cup is like the World Series of baseball but even classier. It only happens every four years so you can imagine how exciting it is for people all around this great big world of ours. In 1994, the World Cup happened in our country! I bet most Americans don't even remember that! But I do.
In fact, when the Indians were playing in Baltimore in that spring of '94, we had an off day. Did I want to go visit Sharon again? Did I want to go to the aquarium for the 50th time? Hell, no! I wanted something new. And thanks to Alvy, I discovered it at RFK Stadium. That's right, that was me, Eddie Murray, right up front at the World Cup. Shit, that day was fantastic. So much action, so much drama, so much singing. I'm a firm believer that our great sport of baseball would be better if there was just a little more singing in the stands. I bet that surprises you because it seems like I'm so quiet and staid. But just because I take my job seriously doesn't mean I'm boring. Far from it.
So thank you Alvy for introducing me to such a wonderful sport. Go Team USA this May in Germany. I'll be there cheering you on against the Czech Republic! I know no one is giving you a chance against one of the best teams in the world, but I have faith in you. Hell, who would have thought that a humble boy named Eddie Clarence Murray would make it to the Baseball Hall of Fame? You've got to believe boys. I'll be there come May sitting in the front row with a big 'ol soda in one hand and Cherry Vines in the other cheering you on! Eddie is one with the World!
Eddie Says Hey It has been awhile since I've posted but I've been a busy man. You might ask, "Eddie, what does an out of work hall of famer do to keep busy?" First of all, I'll take that as an honest question rather than a rude one. Second of all, resumes don't write themselves, you know what I'm saying?
But sometimes, you miss the forest for the trees. And I have. I have been so into Eddie Murray stuff recently that I haven't kept in touch with all my peeps. For example, my good friend Sharon has been woefully (not as woeful as the '88 Orioles but who's keeping score other than Phil Itzoe?) neglected by yours truly.
So when I saw this comment to my Thanksgiving post (Man, I couldn't get off the couch for three days, screw you Floyd!) I felt awful.
"Hey what's up? Hope you and the family are doing well. Give me a call when you get a chance would love to hear from you. Everyone on the east coast is doing well and Kim got married this June in Jamaica.
Sharon 3369596"
As soon as I get off the schneid here, I'm going to get on the horn and rectify the situation - like the time I rectified my '79 World Series slump by hitting my name off the mothafucking Vet (what a dump that place was) scoreboard in the '83 Series. Sharon, I love you woman, I'm calling right now!
What time is "Tom and Jerry" on again? It's hard to tell when it is on. You can't rely on it - unlike me - Steady Eddie. I was always there. Always. Except that one time in '86. But that's another story. Don't even get me started on that cracker Jim Traber.
Eddie Likes Hot Rods Have you seen that movie "Boyz in the Hood"? What's up with that shit? Those kids are from my old neighborhood but they just don't respect their elders. I like fast cars as much as the next hall of famer but I just can't get with those big dumb wheels and all of the bouncing.
In my day, when I wasn't improving my eyesight by staring at a candle ala Joe Jackson (shit, that movie "Eight Men Out" is good), bagging groceries at the Shop Rite, or throwing the old pill around with my brother Rich, I was cruising the strip in my souped up engine. And what a ride it was!
Bright yellow, the Jackson 5 on the AM, and me, Eddie Murray, enjoying life.
But I still respected my mom and pop. I was a good boy. I just don't get the youth of today with their big gold chains, their constant frowning, and those dumb looking Adidas tennis shoes.
Eddie Finishes a Book I love that John Grisham. Just finished "The Firm." He's a true professional, that Grisham. He writes the way I played the game - the right way. No dangling participles or any of that shit. Just straightforward suspense and tight drama. He may not win any awards but he always is clutch.
Just like me -- Steady Eddie. I didn't win any awards but I did have the most MVP votes in the 1980's. Solid.
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