Grip, Ray-Ray, Petey Feliz and I were sitting playing cards in the clubhouse while waiting for the old man to announce the lineup. Then fucking Omar Vizquel walks in, pants pulled halfway up his chest, carrying a big bag of something ( Read more... )

So today, Omar Vizquel comes up to me with a box of Krispy Kremes. "I want to have a team meeting in the clubhouse in ten minutes so we can all talk about the way things are going," he says. "I'll bring snacks!" He smiles with that sickening happy-go-lucky look of his and walks away. And I'm like, who the fuck do you think you're tempting with ( Read more... )

Fuck Jeff Weaver.