My mother hated Brian Fuentes.

fuentes cc use“Goddamn it, they put his dumb ass in there again… I’m going to bed!” my mother says as she jumps out of her La-Z-Boy and tosses the remote control at me.

“He might do it this time,” I say as he meticulously blows another tightly contested/hard-fought contest in the ninth. There is nothing worse in the baseball world than a closer who embodies a dumpster fire.

Mom by no means is a knowledgable baseball fan, but she knows what she doesn’t like…and she didn’t like Brian Fuentes. I knew how she felt. It got to be frustrating sitting there for 3 hours and change just to see this big-eared, goatee’d goofball with a lame-duck delivery and an inflated contract desecrating your team’s chances of winning. It hurt even more to know that he was forsaken by the Angels, the terrible team from Orange County that famously sticks with terrible closers. If that smug blockhead Mike Scioscia is fed up with a reliever than there is reason for panic.

I had been to the Oakland “Mausoleum” merely days before, proudly sporting my green cap with the gold, gothic “A” on the front. The night began with a few nips from a flask at the BART station and ended with fans staying after the game to verbally try to rip Fuentes a new asshole as he blew yet another save; becoming the physical incarnation of our dwindling hope as fans. I sat there stunned, giving in to shikata ga nai: the japanese habit of surrendering to fate. When the A’s finally released Fuentes (STILL paying that contract off by the way) my mother could only say with a dismissive wave, “Well, you can’t make chicken salad outta chicken shit.”

6 Comments

They’ll break your heart, those Closers.

So many closers are one year wonders. Others are no year wonders. Then there are the gifted. Not many of the latter. Fuentes wasn’t one. I understand your Mom’s frustrations.
v

I can’t believe I had forgotten about that guy and it’s not even that long ago. Poor bastard.

I think I like your mom- even tho she tossed the remote at you, rather than to you. Just trying to help you keep your reflexes sharp, I presume.

Ha!My dad had that same disdain for Luis Castillo when he played for our Mets. He used to call him “plasta”,which translates to “pile” in English.I,being the apologist,would stick up for him and explain to my dad that he was aging,that’s all.A few weeks later Castillo would drop A-Rod’s routine infield pop up.What a plasta!

This is funny. Got a kick out of this.

Glen

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