The Jose Offerman Rant - Completed
I had been feeling for a little while that this blog bullshit would not be complete without a Jose Offerman rant. I was waiting for a good opportunity to write such an entry when I read this morning's Boston Globe Sports Section and saw that Bob Ryan had written, "One man's trash is another man's treasure," in reference to former Sox back-up catcher, Scott Hatteberg.
Finally! I could talk about Jose Offerman.
Offerman is, quite possibly, the person I hate the most in the entire UNIVERSE. You know how little kids say that crap all the time about the universe, just to make their point? Yeah. Like that.
When I would watch baseball games - if you can even call them that when good ole Jose was playing - I would DIE every time that loser came up to bat. He was so bad! So bad! Hold on, I am going to check some statistics and stories to boost my argument and check my gag reflex.
So that took longer than expected. I got a little sidetracked by this amazing site, "Cracksmokers of Major League Baseball." Check out the deal on Carl Everett: www.cracksmoker.com/MLB/MLB%20EverettC.htm ... That guy is a madman!
But back to Jose. His numbers are misleading, because it says that his career average is .273. At some point, Offerman was actually an All-Star in 1999, which makes me think we really have to redefine what qualifies for the accolade, and it also makes me wonder where the 250,000 people are who voted him into the game and whether I can have them shipped off to some remote cell and have them be forced to watch footage repeatedly of the junior-varsity level baseball player they wanted to represent the American League. (As an aside, those prisoners should also be shot in the leg. I think that's a good punishment for the most moronic people, because it lets them know, "You are a moron," but nobody dies in the process. They just get a valuable lesson. Every time they want to be moronic and, for example, praise Jose Offerman, they can look at the wound in their leg and be reminded of their stupidity. Then they would stop being stupid. You could also tell who was moron by asking them if they had ever been shot in the leg. The concept really is innovative.)
Back to Jose. That All-Star factoid, in case you were wondering, was the first statistic that really gave the gag reflex a good test. Then I found out that the Sox were paying him $6.5 million. After going back over all of the baserunning erros, all of the failed double plays, all of his OWN double plays, I can only imagine that the Sox were paying him to stand out there at second base and physically look good. And the only reason they could even be doing that is because the only alternative was Mike Lansing, possibly the only Sox player who could give Rod Beck a run for his money in the "Who's the Ugliest Red Sox Player Ever" contest.
Basically, I hate Jose Offerman. If I hate a player, I refuse to root for them. EVER. It's a steadfast rule, one that my dad hates. When Jeremy "Please Let Genetics Work" Giambi replaced Brian Daubach, I decided to hate him. And I never, ever rooted for him. That turned out not to be very difficult, because he rarely played, and even more rarely gave me anything to have to question cheering about. Jose Offerman was basically the same, only he always played. Which drove me nuts.
I figure in the summer of 2002, I spent a good 15 minutes per Red Sox game carping about Jose Offerman to somebody. At some point, I remember hearing that Jose Offerman is an anagram for "Major Offense" which made me majorly laugh because that is about as close as Jose Offerman is ever going to get to actually being labeled that.
When the Sox finally let the old bag go, nobody was surprised or disappointed. I bet a lot of the teammates were even happy to see him go. Seriously. Having him on the team was an insult to the bat boys. Yeah. The bat boys.
I wish I had thought of this genius comparison: "Remember the scene in The Godfather, Part II, where Robert Deniro travels back to Sicily to avenge his father's murder? When he gets there, he finds a brokendown old man, confined to a chair, barely able to hear Vito say his name and the name of his father, Antonio Andolini. Vito is unmoved by Don Ciccio's condition and runs him through with a knife. This, thank God, is basically the course the Red Sox took with Jose Offerman today."
Dan Shaughnessy took a different approach. Unlike the sympathetic Godfather comparison, in which you have to acknowledge somebody's beleagured state, Shaughnessy had no pity. Possibly my favorite line from any sports article, ever:
"Let us consider for a moment the piece of junk that is Offerman."
Read it again.
When I first read it, even I was taken aback. I almost started defending Offerman, but then I remembered every stupid time I had to watch that stupid jerk go up to bat. And honestly, "stupid" and "jerk" are just replacements for other words that, for some reason, I can't bring myself to write in this blog. Blog is a stupid word by the way.
Anyway, Shaughnessy did take some heat for his statement. Anybody who drives a dump truck should be offended, because the cargo they carry is definitely more precious than Jose Offerman, and I think that anybody who works in a junkyard would have claim for their outrage, because after all, sometimes trash can be useful. According to Bob Ryan, Scott Hatteberg is just like good trash: he can be recycled and refurbished. Hatteberg left the Sox as a back-up catcher and returned to Fenway as a starting first baseman for the Oakland A's, batting third. Other common trash items potentially more useful than Jose Offerman: old clothes, leftover food, broken machinery, toothpicks, Gigli, gum wrappers. The list goes on. Basically, anything is more useful than Jose Offerman.
I was just about to end the rant on Jose Offerman when I realized I forgot to include the most imprtant part! The story that made me really feel that I needed to rant in the first place.
The Sox played in California, near Jose Offerman's million dollar beach front estate courtesy of the Red Sox, and then traveled to Texas. During that roadtrip, the Sox got Cliff Floyd and Bob Howry. So, Mike Port, the interim GM after Dan Duquette FINALLY got fired, came down to Texas to get rid of Duquette's $26 million dollar error (Jose Offerman). When he told Offerman he was designated for assignment (i.e. Triple A or home), Offerman not only chose option B, but he punctuated his choice with a profanity-laced tantrum that sealed his already-inevitable fate as the top spot on my list of all-time most hated Red Sox players, as well as on the much more elusive "most likely to have my shoe thrown at them while on the TV screen" list.
Offerman slammed his bat and his glove on the ground, probably the most action either saw during the season, and then he feebly tried to kick over a water cooler and went up against the clubhouse equipment (Jose 0, Clubhouse 2). But worse than his sorry excuse for a tantrum (please see the "cracksmokers" link to read about much better rages), he started screaming about how ridiculous and thoughtless it was of the Red Sox not to let him go when he was back in California, when he was already at home. He didn't want to have to travel to Texas, then go through the hassel of opening his $26 million dollar checkbook to book a first-class flight back to Loserville.
Well well well. Jose didn't want to be inconvenienced! He thought the Sox should have just let him go in California, saving him an extra plane ride. Let me tell you, I'd rather the Sox have let him go then too. Every game that he played in was an embarrassment to the team, so if it were up to me, and up to anybody with a working brain, Jose would have been gone long before California. We had to watch that guy mess up countless plays and opportunities, and so for him to have to sit an extra six hours on a plane, in first class, en route to his mansion estate, I really don't care! (PS - does anybody remember the saying "I don't give"? It was just left at that. Nobody said what they don't "give" but it was really popular when I was about twelve... or ten? I have this image of my neighbor's brother sitting at the dinner table, and his mom told him that he had to eat his green beans, or no dessert. And the kid went, "I don't give." And then his mom got all mad and said, "Daniel, do not speak to me like that." Looking back, the kid looked ridiculous. "I don't give." You don't give what? Ridiculous.)
But I digress. Jose was being ridiculous. I still have difficulty putting into words the outrage I felt over his outburst. Here's a guy who was universally LOATHED by everyone, and nobody - NOBODY - started crying after he was packing his bags, and yet he thought he deserved a more ceremonious send-off. If I were there, I would definitely have given him one of those. What an asshole. Really. And you know what really gets me? Where was he running to? I don't recall Steinbrenner knocking down Jose's door to bring him to New York. In fact, I believe he played in the Independent League (i.e. Washed Up Old Guys Unqualified for Real Jobs) before the Twins took pity on him this year. I mean, I hate to say it, but the only place Jose really needed to get to after Texas was his local unemployment office, and I'm pretty sure they're open 9-5, Monday through Friday.
I had written this entry a few days ago, but I got too many negative comments about comparing Jose Offerman to Mary-Kate Olsen. People were really - and perhaps rightfully - offended that I would make fun of an eating disorder. Plus, I was so disgusted with myself for even coming up with a joke about anorexia that I ended my rant prematurely. After this edit, however, I can say that I am satisfied.
I'm done now.
Finally! I could talk about Jose Offerman.
Offerman is, quite possibly, the person I hate the most in the entire UNIVERSE. You know how little kids say that crap all the time about the universe, just to make their point? Yeah. Like that.
When I would watch baseball games - if you can even call them that when good ole Jose was playing - I would DIE every time that loser came up to bat. He was so bad! So bad! Hold on, I am going to check some statistics and stories to boost my argument and check my gag reflex.
So that took longer than expected. I got a little sidetracked by this amazing site, "Cracksmokers of Major League Baseball." Check out the deal on Carl Everett: www.cracksmoker.com/MLB/MLB%20EverettC.htm ... That guy is a madman!
But back to Jose. His numbers are misleading, because it says that his career average is .273. At some point, Offerman was actually an All-Star in 1999, which makes me think we really have to redefine what qualifies for the accolade, and it also makes me wonder where the 250,000 people are who voted him into the game and whether I can have them shipped off to some remote cell and have them be forced to watch footage repeatedly of the junior-varsity level baseball player they wanted to represent the American League. (As an aside, those prisoners should also be shot in the leg. I think that's a good punishment for the most moronic people, because it lets them know, "You are a moron," but nobody dies in the process. They just get a valuable lesson. Every time they want to be moronic and, for example, praise Jose Offerman, they can look at the wound in their leg and be reminded of their stupidity. Then they would stop being stupid. You could also tell who was moron by asking them if they had ever been shot in the leg. The concept really is innovative.)
Back to Jose. That All-Star factoid, in case you were wondering, was the first statistic that really gave the gag reflex a good test. Then I found out that the Sox were paying him $6.5 million. After going back over all of the baserunning erros, all of the failed double plays, all of his OWN double plays, I can only imagine that the Sox were paying him to stand out there at second base and physically look good. And the only reason they could even be doing that is because the only alternative was Mike Lansing, possibly the only Sox player who could give Rod Beck a run for his money in the "Who's the Ugliest Red Sox Player Ever" contest.
Basically, I hate Jose Offerman. If I hate a player, I refuse to root for them. EVER. It's a steadfast rule, one that my dad hates. When Jeremy "Please Let Genetics Work" Giambi replaced Brian Daubach, I decided to hate him. And I never, ever rooted for him. That turned out not to be very difficult, because he rarely played, and even more rarely gave me anything to have to question cheering about. Jose Offerman was basically the same, only he always played. Which drove me nuts.
I figure in the summer of 2002, I spent a good 15 minutes per Red Sox game carping about Jose Offerman to somebody. At some point, I remember hearing that Jose Offerman is an anagram for "Major Offense" which made me majorly laugh because that is about as close as Jose Offerman is ever going to get to actually being labeled that.
When the Sox finally let the old bag go, nobody was surprised or disappointed. I bet a lot of the teammates were even happy to see him go. Seriously. Having him on the team was an insult to the bat boys. Yeah. The bat boys.
I wish I had thought of this genius comparison: "Remember the scene in The Godfather, Part II, where Robert Deniro travels back to Sicily to avenge his father's murder? When he gets there, he finds a brokendown old man, confined to a chair, barely able to hear Vito say his name and the name of his father, Antonio Andolini. Vito is unmoved by Don Ciccio's condition and runs him through with a knife. This, thank God, is basically the course the Red Sox took with Jose Offerman today."
Dan Shaughnessy took a different approach. Unlike the sympathetic Godfather comparison, in which you have to acknowledge somebody's beleagured state, Shaughnessy had no pity. Possibly my favorite line from any sports article, ever:
"Let us consider for a moment the piece of junk that is Offerman."
Read it again.
When I first read it, even I was taken aback. I almost started defending Offerman, but then I remembered every stupid time I had to watch that stupid jerk go up to bat. And honestly, "stupid" and "jerk" are just replacements for other words that, for some reason, I can't bring myself to write in this blog. Blog is a stupid word by the way.
Anyway, Shaughnessy did take some heat for his statement. Anybody who drives a dump truck should be offended, because the cargo they carry is definitely more precious than Jose Offerman, and I think that anybody who works in a junkyard would have claim for their outrage, because after all, sometimes trash can be useful. According to Bob Ryan, Scott Hatteberg is just like good trash: he can be recycled and refurbished. Hatteberg left the Sox as a back-up catcher and returned to Fenway as a starting first baseman for the Oakland A's, batting third. Other common trash items potentially more useful than Jose Offerman: old clothes, leftover food, broken machinery, toothpicks, Gigli, gum wrappers. The list goes on. Basically, anything is more useful than Jose Offerman.
I was just about to end the rant on Jose Offerman when I realized I forgot to include the most imprtant part! The story that made me really feel that I needed to rant in the first place.
The Sox played in California, near Jose Offerman's million dollar beach front estate courtesy of the Red Sox, and then traveled to Texas. During that roadtrip, the Sox got Cliff Floyd and Bob Howry. So, Mike Port, the interim GM after Dan Duquette FINALLY got fired, came down to Texas to get rid of Duquette's $26 million dollar error (Jose Offerman). When he told Offerman he was designated for assignment (i.e. Triple A or home), Offerman not only chose option B, but he punctuated his choice with a profanity-laced tantrum that sealed his already-inevitable fate as the top spot on my list of all-time most hated Red Sox players, as well as on the much more elusive "most likely to have my shoe thrown at them while on the TV screen" list.
Offerman slammed his bat and his glove on the ground, probably the most action either saw during the season, and then he feebly tried to kick over a water cooler and went up against the clubhouse equipment (Jose 0, Clubhouse 2). But worse than his sorry excuse for a tantrum (please see the "cracksmokers" link to read about much better rages), he started screaming about how ridiculous and thoughtless it was of the Red Sox not to let him go when he was back in California, when he was already at home. He didn't want to have to travel to Texas, then go through the hassel of opening his $26 million dollar checkbook to book a first-class flight back to Loserville.
Well well well. Jose didn't want to be inconvenienced! He thought the Sox should have just let him go in California, saving him an extra plane ride. Let me tell you, I'd rather the Sox have let him go then too. Every game that he played in was an embarrassment to the team, so if it were up to me, and up to anybody with a working brain, Jose would have been gone long before California. We had to watch that guy mess up countless plays and opportunities, and so for him to have to sit an extra six hours on a plane, in first class, en route to his mansion estate, I really don't care! (PS - does anybody remember the saying "I don't give"? It was just left at that. Nobody said what they don't "give" but it was really popular when I was about twelve... or ten? I have this image of my neighbor's brother sitting at the dinner table, and his mom told him that he had to eat his green beans, or no dessert. And the kid went, "I don't give." And then his mom got all mad and said, "Daniel, do not speak to me like that." Looking back, the kid looked ridiculous. "I don't give." You don't give what? Ridiculous.)
But I digress. Jose was being ridiculous. I still have difficulty putting into words the outrage I felt over his outburst. Here's a guy who was universally LOATHED by everyone, and nobody - NOBODY - started crying after he was packing his bags, and yet he thought he deserved a more ceremonious send-off. If I were there, I would definitely have given him one of those. What an asshole. Really. And you know what really gets me? Where was he running to? I don't recall Steinbrenner knocking down Jose's door to bring him to New York. In fact, I believe he played in the Independent League (i.e. Washed Up Old Guys Unqualified for Real Jobs) before the Twins took pity on him this year. I mean, I hate to say it, but the only place Jose really needed to get to after Texas was his local unemployment office, and I'm pretty sure they're open 9-5, Monday through Friday.
I had written this entry a few days ago, but I got too many negative comments about comparing Jose Offerman to Mary-Kate Olsen. People were really - and perhaps rightfully - offended that I would make fun of an eating disorder. Plus, I was so disgusted with myself for even coming up with a joke about anorexia that I ended my rant prematurely. After this edit, however, I can say that I am satisfied.
I'm done now.
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