Joba Chamberlain phoned the Youk - (from now on, to separate him from his previous incarnation, I'm calling upon the Yankiverse to refer to him as "the Youk) - to talk about old beanings and misunderstandings. When they finally meet, I hope a camera crew from the YES News Network will be there to document it. And I hope the two players are willing to have some fun.
Joba could swipe his hand below the Youk's impressive second chin, as a gesture of the "music" that once played there. In turn, the Youk could flip an imaginary bat toward pitcher's mound and offer a fake staredown.
Joba could then pretend to be angry at the Youk, and make a motion suggesting that his new lockermate STFU and go to firstbase like the fat slug that he is (jokingly, of course.) Playing along, the exuberant Youk would take a menacing step in Joba's direction and thump his chest, gorilla-like, totally messing with reporters' heads.
The two could step nose-to-nose and - as The Master would say, "belly to belly" - and, hopefully they could pull this off without breaking up, throw a couple fake punches. The Youk would have a blood capsule in his mouth. Joba could keep one his nose, or just cut his forehead with a hidden razor, the way pro wrestlers do.
They could roll around on the floor, while people plead for them to stop. But they wouldn't stop. They would be having too much fun.
They could stop when both yelped together in pain. The Youk would hold his knee, and Joba would clutch his shoulder. The Youk would then announce, through his agent, that he'll be out until the all-star break. Joba could have fake surgery and miss the season.
By the way, has this practical joke been done to us in the past?
Joba could swipe his hand below the Youk's impressive second chin, as a gesture of the "music" that once played there. In turn, the Youk could flip an imaginary bat toward pitcher's mound and offer a fake staredown.
Joba could then pretend to be angry at the Youk, and make a motion suggesting that his new lockermate STFU and go to firstbase like the fat slug that he is (jokingly, of course.) Playing along, the exuberant Youk would take a menacing step in Joba's direction and thump his chest, gorilla-like, totally messing with reporters' heads.
The two could step nose-to-nose and - as The Master would say, "belly to belly" - and, hopefully they could pull this off without breaking up, throw a couple fake punches. The Youk would have a blood capsule in his mouth. Joba could keep one his nose, or just cut his forehead with a hidden razor, the way pro wrestlers do.
They could roll around on the floor, while people plead for them to stop. But they wouldn't stop. They would be having too much fun.
They could stop when both yelped together in pain. The Youk would hold his knee, and Joba would clutch his shoulder. The Youk would then announce, through his agent, that he'll be out until the all-star break. Joba could have fake surgery and miss the season.
By the way, has this practical joke been done to us in the past?
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I was over at the YES site and there was only one comment to the official Youkilis signing post. Paula asked, "What number will Youkilis wear?", and being a wiseguy, I answered, "666".
After, I was thinking. 6 is available, isn't it? Last worn by Joe 'tell Proctor to warm up' Torre. But one 6 is not enough to convey the dread many fans are feeling.
So then I thought, hey, how about 36? Three 6s. Ingenious. Dastardly. Kinda sneaky.
Last worn by Freddy Garcia, another short-term Yankee. More importantly, the number once worn by the great David Cone before he WENT to Boston. Oh, the irony.
By the way, Joba is always coming off the injured list. Think he might be able to pitch a little team b.p. as part of his next rehab? You know what I'm saying.
The hills may yet be alive with the sound of chin music.
See if we can get him to wear "18" !
Hey, "6" is MY number! Give him Bouton's "56".
I had it last, Cletis. Mickey Rivers telephoned to say that The Youk ought be "0" because that's all the ability Youkster's got left.
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