December 3, 2009:
1995 Score #209 Darryl Strawberry
Somewhere in San Francisco, Summer, 1994...
Dusty Baker (Giants Manager): I don't care how the Mets dealt with that shit, you do not bring cocaine onto San Francisco Giants property.
Darryl Strawberry: I don't wanna play baseball today.
DB: That's fine with me... there ain't no damn way you were getting in tonight's lineup anyway, no way, no how!
DS: I don't wanna be a baseball player. You're a baseball player!
DB: Now that doesn't make any damn sense.
DS: You're a damn sense! You're a poopy head!
DB: Now you done it. You didn't need to go there, but you took it there. Go sit in the Uncooperative Chair.
DS: You're a un-cop-a-tive chair! Go be a poopy head! I don't wanna play baseball anymore!
DB: Don't you make me go and get Dick Pole. Do not make me get Dick Pole. Dick Pole does not need some getting, but if you make me, I will go and get Dick Pole.
DS: You're a Dick Pole! Dick Pole poopy farts! Poopy farts! Poopy farts! Poopy farts! Poopy farts! Poopy farts! You are a poopy fart!
DB (to himself): Lord, what am I gonna do with this boy? They best cancel this whole damn season, far as I'm concerned.
Thus endeth the set-up for the greatest pouting session ever documented on cardboard. So much for three days in a row of smiling baseball players. Makes me wonder who tomorrow's malcontent will be.
You keep reading, I'll keep writing. See you in 24 or less!