He had just taken a foul ball to the bilge pump, a pain that withers the hearts of all men everywhere, except in the Yankee dugout, where his teammates were nervously grinning.
The poor fellow could barely hobble to the clubhouse, where he'd spend the next 12 hours icing down his joystick.
T'waz a moment frozen in time - and pain. Today, of course, the nattering nabobs of the nanny state want every player, everywhere, to immediately don plastic cups, clamping down on our God-given freedom to romp across fields of blooming nipples. It raises the ultimate question for modern man:
To cup, or not to cup?
Do you wear personal armor, knowing it might protect your billiards from a seeing eye grounder, or a surgically applied tag at home plate. But nothing can save you from a Paul Skenesian 102-mph direct hit? In simple terms, the system will not protect you.
So, do we go free, assigning the safety of our precious family jewels to the whims of the fates and juju gods?
For me, it's all about the C-word.
The Chafing.
Yes, in the matter of cups, the unspoken question down the ages remains:
How much chafing can a guy endure?
I'm talking about fiery rings of redness that no ointments or baby powder can sooth. I'm talking about pure, unadulterated chafing: With each step, each movement, the region where your groin intersects with the outside world becomes a volcano of spouting pain, until the skin around your domain seems to be bathing in acid.
Yes, I suppose if you endure the chafing long enough - until the skin is like the underside of a Naugahyde recliner - the pain will subside. Maybe.
Honestly, I don't know. I was never able to make it.
It's the chafing, Mr. Kurtz. And I hereby nominate Jazz Chisholm for some award in the Manoverse. He has chosen not to run the bases in a plastic codpiece the size of a bear trap? No way. He is going to let his spirited onions run free. And he is sending a message to us all.
Life, my friends, is not meant to be lived in a cage. You cannot protect yourself forever. Get out and expose yourself to the world - discreetly, of course. Let your seeds be sown where they are not planted. And in the case of Jazz, steal more bases!
And happy Father's Day to all.
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I think this column should be nominated at some literary organization for the award for Most Euphemisms for Penis and Testicles in a single article.
Although I did not know it beforehand, I apologize to my fellow members of the recon team for the placement of that row of seats. It was quieter than last time, but it was also oddly prone to garbage. At least three times, I was hit by flying debris. One could posit that it was the flotsam caused by the departure of the Juju Gods.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CpiP_jN1Pv4
seems appropriate
And while you're at it, sun your balls as well...
Into each life a little garbage must fall. No problem, sir. It was great to be there with all of the assembled geezers. And with Ranger, who is not a geezer, but a young and talented IT professional.
"Balls," said the queen. "If I had 'em, I'd be king."
If it chafes, you have to find a way to prevent that. Wear a codpiece over boxer shorts. Have some armor panels sewn into special linings in the pants. We went through this with all the shots Cam Schlittler was taking to the shins. Be creative. There are lots of ways to don armor and padding for the groin, for the legs, for the knees. I wouldn't play hardball without some kind of armor for the groin. (Though I have to confess that I did spar in the boxing ring without any groin protection. I always wore my mouthpiece and headgear, but skipped the cup or groin protector for sparring. Because in boxing, hitting below the belt is illegal. And I do have a martial arts background so that I'm always very aware of protecting the groin. But I always don groin protection for real bouts.)
Especially for an infielder, playing without wearing a cup seems like a pretty crazy risk. But you'd expect that from Jazz, eh?
I saw photos of Jazz outside of baseball, and he was wearing glasses. Hopefully, he wears contact lenses when he plays. If he plays baseball without any corrective lenses, that might explain a lot of the insanity. How old is Chisholm? 28 years old? He should get laser surgery over the winter and ditch the glasses or contacts.
In America, every man is free to risk his dingle dongles as he sees fit. As we well know, Jazz has a tendency to swing away.
I remember Reuben Sierra wasn't hitting too well for the Yankees. After a while, they find out he couldn't see the eye chart. Needed glasses. So he got his prescription and played with contact lenses. It didn't seem to make that much of a difference, though. Wasn't long before he was washed up.
Seemed like a good guy. Don't really know why Tony La Russa called Sierra "the Village Idiot" when Sierra played for him. At least that was the rumor.
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