Egghead and Hothead

It finally boiled over. The tension between Carlos Zambrano (Dem Rebels) and Michael Barrett (David’s Copperfields) came to a head at Wrigley Field. It has been simmering a while now, 23 years to be exact.

“They’ve been kicking our ass in the standings every doggone year,” states Head Rebel Bentel. “And all with ‘class and charm’, those damn top hats, tails and walking sticks. It’s over! Something had to be done. Barrett has been embarrassing my team all year long with his passed balls and throws into the outfield on stolen bases.”

Zambrano backs up his boss. “When I approached egghead (Barrett) in the dugout to ask him why he can’t catch anymore he looks at me with this dumbass lost look in his eyes. Then he points to the sky saying that he was watching an airplane in the sky while I was pitching. I couldn’t help it, I had to deck him.”

Barrett provides a different version of the story. “Big baby Z, as in last in the alphabet – as in last in all pitching statisitics, comes at me asking me why I missed his latest weakass offering. I pointed to the sky and said ‘I called for a fastball and you throw a wobbling butterfly.’ Then he gets this Pierzynski look in his eye and he throws down. What’s up with that?”

Dugout management tried to break things up and ushered the players into the clubhouse. “I’m minding my own business,” claims Barrett, “popping in Sade into my CD player and then Mr. I Only Care About My Batting Average comes over and sucker punches me, splitting my lip. So off I go to the hospital and now I’m talking like I’m doing Bill Cosby’s dentist routine.”

Copperfield Management has this perspective. “This all goes back to the Mount Olympus days,” says Copperflop. “When Bentel and I shared an apartment he was on my last nerve. Never doing the cleaning, never doing any cooking and always playing that hillbilly music. I mean c’mon, how many times can you listen to Rocky Top? I’ve had it.”

Bentel retorts, “He says it’s from Mount Olympus days? Well he’s probably right. Did he mention how many freaking times I had to double back to the apartment to let him in because he locked his keys inside? Christ, if I had a nickel for everytime that happened I wouldn’t have to work my finely toned ass off running this club. I’d be independently wealthy.”

Mahlan laid out the final word. “I’m sick of being the nice guy all the time. Remember, they attacked us. I called my buddy Sean Connery for some advice. He suggested this: ‘They put one of yours in the hospital; you put one of theirs in the morgue. That’s the Chicago way.’”