Josh Q. Public: All I’m saying pretty baby. La la love you. Don’t mean maybe. -Pixies
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! Yesterday I wrote about Josh Hamilton. Yesterday, I told just one half of the story. Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Today, I got a new story. Today I got the story of Edinson Volquez. Come and listen to a story about a man named Jed. A poor mountaineer, barely kept his family fed. Oh sorry. Wrong story. Edinson Volquez. The man the Rangers traded away for Josh Hamilton. You may think it’s one sided. You may think it was unfair. You may think a position player is more valuable than a pitcher. Just like you thought Pedro didn’t deserve to be MVP back in 1999. Think again. Edinson Volquez is for real. Voltron is for real. Transformers. More than meets the eye.Yes,Hamilton leads the American League in RBIs. Yes, Hamilton is among the leaders in home runs and slugging percentage. Yes, he plays a dy-no-mite center field. Yes, he’s doing all that; but this Voltron character is tearing it up. Loaded for bearing it up. Haven’t got a prayering it up. Last night, Voltron allowed a meager one run in six innings. Big deal, you say. Who cares, you say. I say that ties a major-league record by allowing fewer than two earned runs in each of his first eight starts in a season. Yowza! I also say only three other pitchers have done that. Just one in the live-ball era, Mike Norris of the A’s in 1980. The others were Dana Fillingim of the 1918 Boston Braves and Dutch Leonard of the1914 Red Sox. Now that’s saying something. That’s saying a lot. I’ll say something else. I’ll say Voltron is 6-1. I’ll say he leads the National League with a 1.12 ERA. I’ll say he’s mixing in a 96-mph fastball with a sick change. An ill change. Most illinest, stealinest, villianest B-Boy change. Dare I say it? A Pedro change. It’s no wonder they call him Little Pedro. Everybody’s been yipping about Johnny Cueto. Everybody’s been yapping about Johnny Cueto. Where is the love for Edinson? Father, Father, Father help us. Send some guidance from above. ‘Cause people got me, got me questionin’. Where is the love?
Public Acknowledgements: Beatles, Beverly Hillbillies, Beastie Boys and the Black Eyed Peas
Josh Q. Public: Oh my starry eyed surprise. Sundown to sunrise. I dance all night, were gonna dance all night, dance all night to this DJ. -Paul Oakenfold
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! I know it’s early. I know pitchers and catchers barely just reported. I know. I know. But I’m like Rogers Hornsby. I’m like the Rajah. “People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.” Cincinnati Reds fans are staring out the window. Cincinnati Reds fans are waiting for spring. Hope springs eternal in the human breast. Hope springs eternal for the Big Red Machine, my surprise pick for 2008. Like my main man Gomer Pyle always says: “Surprise, surprise, surprise”! The first surprise was the signing of Dusty Baker. Three-time Manager of the Year. Get the papers. Get the papers. Get the papers. Five 90-win seasons. World Series experience. This cat turns things around. Turning things around is what this cat does. In 1993, he took over the Giants. Took over the Giants coming off a 72-win season. Skippered them to a remarkable 103 wins. Fast forward to 2003. Fast forward to the Cubs. Sixty-seven wins in 2002 without Dusty. Now this looks like a job for me. So everybody, just follow me. Cause it feels so empty, without me. 88 wins and the NL Central title with him. Now he’s taking over the Cincinnati Red Legs. That’s good news for the Red Legs. The Red Legs already have the bats. Already have the rat-a-tat-tats. The big ole cats. Big ole cats like the big bopper Adam Dunn. Big ole cats like Griff. If Griff stays healthy, look out. Big ole cats like Brandon Phillips. Breakout year last year. Broke out joining Alfonso Soriano as the only second basemen in major league history to hit 30 homers and steal 30 bases. Yowza! That’s a pretty good middle of the order. Middle of an order that finished third in the NL with 204 bombs. Bombs away, but we’re O.K. Bombs away, in old Bombay. Bombs away in old Cincinnate’. But, like the man says, you’re only as good as your next starter. The Reds next two starters are Aaron Harang and Bronson Arroyo. Now that’s a pretty potent one two. One two buckle my shoe. Matt Belisle and Homer Bailey behind them. Three four, closing the door. Closing the door just in time for Francisco Cordero. Newly signed stud closer Francisco Cordero. How do you spell relief? Yes, there are some glaring holes. Glaring holes at leadoff. Kenny Lofton anyone? Glaring holes at middle relief. Yes, there are holes, but there is joy in Mudville. Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright. The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light. I think that somewhere is Cincinnati.
Public Acknowledgements: Jim Nabors, Alexander Pope, Eminem, The Police and Ernest Lawrence Thayer
Josh Q. Public: Don’t you know I’m still standing better than I ever did. Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid. -Elton John
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Like my main man Mark Twain always says: ”The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” The rumors of Ken Griffey Jr’s death has been greatly exaggerated. Don’t call it a comeback! I been here for years. Rockin’ my peers and puttin’ suckas in fear. Ken Griffey Jr’s been here for years. Ken Griffey Jr’s been rockin’ his peers. Puttin’ suckers in fear. What’s the frequency Kenneth? I’ll tell you what the frequency is. Ken Griffey Jr. just hit his 569th career homer. That’s what the frequency is. He just moved into a tie for ninth place with Rafael Palmeiro. That’s what the frequency is. Just four back behind Harmon Killebrew. Fourteen back behind Mark McGwire. That’s what the frequency is. Griffey has been on a tear since the Red Legs moved him back into his accustomed third spot in the order. Since the Red Legs moved him back into his accustomed third spot in the order, Griffey has hit safely in seven of eight games. Hit four bombs. I am the rock hard trooper. To the bone, the bone, the bone. Full grown. Consider me stone. I’m louder than a bomb. He was louder than a bomb when he was selected with the first overall pick by the Seattle Mariners. Louder than bomb tearing it up his rookie year. Rookie of the Yearing it up. Then it happened. Then the first of many. Griff slipped in the shower and broke a bone in his right hand. He got knocked down. But he got up again. You’re never going to keep him down. Throughout the nineties he was a beast. The high priest. The best from West to East. Junior was arguably the best player of the decade. Cashing that checkade. A one man wreckade. He produced runs. He hit for average. He hit over .300 in seven years of the ‘90s. He hit for power. It’s gettin’ it’s gettin’ it’s gettin’ kinda hectic. He’s got the power. He smashed 422 bombs during the decade. He was the best center fielder of the decade. Gold Gloves from 1990 to 1999. Great range. Sick range. Home, home on the range. Where the deer and the antelope play. Diving plays. Spectacular plays. Say Hey Kid plays. Wheaties boxes. Knock off your sockses. Bagels and loxes. He was the man. He won games with his legs. Saving baseball in Seattle with his legs. You remember. You remember Game Five versus the Bombers. Series even at two apiece. Bottom of the 11th against the Bombers. Junior on first. Edgar with the hit. Hit it just a little bit. Hit it lickety split. There goes Griff. He…could…go…all…the…way. He does! He does! He scores from first base! Mariners win! Mariners win! Then he moved to Cincinnati. Then the injury bug hit. The injury bug hit hard. From 2001 through 2004, Junior was plagued by an endless string of injuries. Season-ending injuries. The injuries lowered his bat speed, lessened his power and curbed his home run production. He slugged only .426 before going down in 2002. His lowest output in seven years. He’s never been the same. A candle without a flame. The glory gone out of his game. But not so fast. He’s back. Back again. Griffey’s back. Tell a friend. Yup, Griffey’s back. Tell a friend. Tell ‘em the Public sent ya.
Public Acknowledgements: LL Cool J, REM, Associated Press, The Cincinnati Enquirer, Wikipedia, Public Enemy, Rex Trailer, Snap and Eminem.
Josh Q. Public: Wo! I feel nice, like sugar and ####e. I feel nice, like sugar and ####e. So nice, so nice! -James Brown
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Life got you down, Binky? You need a little pick me up? Need a little feel good? Need it real good? Better than a Ferris wheel good? Well, I got just the thing. Just what the doctor ordered. Like Wycleaf Jean, I am your doctor. Here comes the doctor baby worry no more. I will bring the remedy baby I will bring the cure. Give you what you want and absolutely I am sure. Like my main man Alexander Pope always says: “Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always to be Blest.” Three feel good stories of this spring. Three stories of hope springing eternal. Three profiles in courage:
Josh Hamilton:Athens Drive High School. Raleigh, North Carolina. Phenom. Phenomenal. High School All-American. Two-time winner of the North Carolina Gatorade High School Player of the Year Award. USA Baseball’s Amateur Player of the Year. Baseball America High School Player of the Year. All that and a bag of sunflower seeds. The kid had it all. Standing tall. The most exciting prospect in all of baseball. He had the intangibles. He had desire. He had drive. He had composure. He had competitiveness. He had coachability. This was the stuff dreams were made. First pick in the draft. Four million dollar bonus baby. The Devil Rays drafted him instead of taking Josh Boom Boom Beckett with the overall top pick. Played some minor league ball. Got hurt. Got hooked on the horse. Oh, and I guess that he just didn’t know. Lost three years of his life. Lost three years waiting for his man. Lost three years twenty-six dollars in his hand. Lost three years up to Lexington, 1-2-5. Lost three years feeling sick and dirty, more dead than alive. Lost three years waiting for his man. But like Jack Torrance, he’s baaack. Back and as good as ever. Back with the Cincinnati Reds. Back with a vengeance. Back into spring training batting .476 (20-42). He has launched a 500-foot bomb. By April 1, he should be the Reds starting centerfielder. Pushing Junior to right. Look at me, I can be, centerfield. Teammate Ryan Freel: “He’s a great story.” He certainly is Ryan, he certainly is.
Jon Lester: Bellarmine Preparatory School. Tacoma, Washington. Another Phenom. Another Phenomenal. Another Gatorade State Player of the Year. Tore up the minor leagues. Portland Sea Dogs. League-leading 2.61 ERA. League-best 163 strikeouts. Eastern League Pitcher of the Year. Red Sox Minor League Pitcher of the Year. Left-handed pitcher on the Eastern League’s year-end All-Star team. Year-end Topps AA All-Star squad. On top of the world looking down on creation. Best young pitcher in the nation. More fun than 101 Dalmatians. The rookie lefty made his Major League debut in June. The rookie lefty went 7-2. The rookie lefty threw sixty Ks in eighty innings. The rookie lefty contracted the cancer. On August 27th, 2006 Lester was scratched from his scheduled start due to a sore back. The following day he was placed on the 15 day disabled list. Three days later, it was reported that Lester had been diagnosed with a treatable form of anaplastic large cell lymphoma. There it was. There was a kind of hush all over the world. A deafening hush. Made my insides turn to mush. Another dream crushed. But this kid’s a fighter. He fights. He fought off the cancer. And just like Josh Hamilton, who just like Jack Torrance, is baaaack! On March 5, Lester made his first appearance in a 2007 spring training game. He threw 8 pitches and retired the 3 batters he faced. Good news. Real good news. Oh my baby’s comin’ home tomorrow, ain’t that good news, yeah, ain’t that news. My baby is coming home tomorrow, ain’t that news, yeah, ain’t that news. Diana Ross & the Supremes style.
Cooper Brannan: Cooper Brannan, San Diego Padres. Cooper Brannan, United States Marine Corps. First to fight for right and freedom, and to keep our honor clean. We are proud to claim the title of United States Marines. Fighting for right and freedom in Falluja, Iraq. Squad leader. Second tour of duty. He noticed that one of his Marines was missing a grenade. He moved to lend one from his own supply. Brannan: “I reached back on the left side of my flack. I had an extra one. And as I handed it to him, it just went off in my hand.” Went off in his hand and blew off three fingers. Purple Heart. The doctors were able to save all but his pinky on his glove hand. You’re in the big leagues now. His fastball touches 93 mph, but a curve ball’s what his pitch is. So here he comes, like dum ditty dum. He keeps all five boroughs in stitches. Cooper Brannan will try to distinguish himself once again. This time in a different uniform. This time in a Padre uniform. Another uniform he is proud to wear.
Josh Q. Public:When the day is long and the night, the night is yours alone. When you’re sure you’ve had enough of this life, well hang on. Don’t let yourself go, everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes. -REM
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! A long one today. It started as five for Friday. Then went to four. Still too long. Cut it down to three. Hope you have some time today. Three for Friday. Let’s give this a try day. Easy as pumpkin pie day. Never say die day. Oh, what could have been. So my Red Sox signed JD Drew. Nancy Drew. DL Drew. In his rookie year, as a Cardinal, he was drawing comparisons to Stan the Man and the Mick. Then the injuries began. It got me to thinking. Yes, I do think sometimes. I got to thinking who else never realized their full glory due to injuries. Not career ending injuries. Not Cam Neeley injuries. Not Robert Edwards injuries. Not Dennis Byrd injuries. Darryl Stingley injuries. Not them. Nagging injuries. Always hurt injuries. Injuries that hampered what could have been the greatest of them all injuries. All right. Lets get started. These guys fell aparted. If it was war, they would have been purple hearted. Three injury riddled careers. (In no particular order.)
1. Ken Griffey Junior: Selected with the first overall pick by the Seattle Mariners. Just tearing it up his rookie year. Rookie of the Yearing it up. Then it happened. Then the first of many. Griff slipped in the shower and broke a bone in his right hand. He got knocked down. But he got up again. Chumbawumba style. Throughout the nineties he was beast. The high priest. The best from west to east. Junior was arguably the best player of the decade. He produced runs. He hit for average. He hit over .300 in seven years of the ‘90. He hit for power. The man of the hour, tower of power, he’ll devour. He’s gonna tie you up and let you understand that he’s not your average man when he’s got a baseball bat in his hand. DAAAAAM!!!!! He smashed 422 bombs during the decade. He was the best center fielder in the bigs. Gold Gloves from 1990 to 1999. Great range. Sick range. Diving plays. Spectacular plays. Say Hey Kid plays. Wheaties boxes. He was the man. He won games with his legs. You remember. You remember Game Five versus the Bombers. Series even at two apiece. Bottom of the 11th. Junior on first. Edgar with the hit. There goes Griff. He…could…go…all…the…way. He does! He does! He scores from first base! Mariners win! Mariners win! Then he moved to Cincinnati. Then the injury bug hit. The injury bug hit hard. From 2001 through 2004, Junior was plagued by an endless string of injuries. Season-ending injuries. The injuries lowered his bat speed, lessened his power and curbed his home run production. He slugged only .426 before going down in 2002. His lowest output in seven years. He’s never been the same. A candle without a flame. The glory gone out of his game. Griff will still go down as one of the all-time greats, but, oh, what could have been.
2. Eric Lindros: The Big E, Easy E, EL88, The “E Train”, The Next One. Another first overall pick. Picked first by the Quebec Nordiques. Pulled an Eli Manning. Refused to play for Quebec. Demanded a trade. Done. Traded to Philly. Herschel Walker style. The E Train was big. The E Train was strong. The E Train could make plays. The E Train could rack up the points. For much of his first five seasons in the NHL, Lindros hovered around 4th all-time in points per game. Showing no shame. Say my name! He led the Legion of Doom line. He led theFlyers to the Stanley Cup finals in 1997. Philly fans were in heaven. Got their engines revin’. He scored over 40 goals in each of first two seasons. He won the Hart Trophy. Man Child. Running wild. Leaving foes beguiled. But his tough style took its toll. Eric spent many a game on the injured reserve. Eric suffered a series of concussions. During a game against the Nashville Predators, he suffered what was diagnosed as a rib injury. Later that night, teammate Keith Jones discovered Lindros lying in a tub, pale and cold. Not a rib injury at all. A collapsed lung. A collapsed lung caused by internal bleeding of his chest wall. He’d bled out more than half his body’s total blood volume. Egads! More concussions. His toughness now in question. The C ripped off his jersey. Lindros still leads his team to the Eastern Conference Finals. Then The Hit. The Scott Stevens hit. Another concussion. The beginning of the end. He played for the Rangers for the next three seasons. In 2004 he sustained his eighth concussion. Two doctors advised him to retire. Things were getting dire. But he still had that desire. The Toronto Maple Leafs. Torn ligament in his left wrist. Out for 27 games. Just not the same. He re-injured the same wrist while taking a slap shot in a game against the Ottawa Senators. Season over. He’s on the Stars now. You wouldn’t know it. A shell of the man he once was. Oh, what could have been.
3. Bill Walton: Made his mark at Pauley Pavillion. Made his mark playing for Wizard Wooden. Made his mark winning the National Title game in 1973 over Memphis State. Made his mark nailing 21 of 22 field goal attempts and scoring 44 points. The greatest ever offensive performance in college basketball ever. He didn’t stop there. No siree, Billy. Yet another number one overall pick to make this list. You getting the gist? The injuries came fast and furious. It was curious. How could one guy be so injurious? In his first two seasons, he broke his nose. He broke his foot. He broke his wrist. He broke his leg. Goodness. He didn’t get hurt his third year. He made that loud and clear. Portland fans could stand and cheer. Big Bill led the NBA in boards. Big Bill led the NBA in blocks. Big Bill made the All-Star team. Big Bill made the NBA’s First-All Defensive Team. Big Bill made the All-NBA Second Team. That was just the regular season. In the post-season, he led Portland to a 4-0 sweep of the Lakers in the conference finals. In the post-season, he led Portland to the NBA title in over the heavily favored Seventy-Sixers. In the post-season, he was named the Finals MVP. The next year he took over where he left off. The Blazers won 50 of their first 60 games. Then the broken foot. The first in a long string of foot and ankle injuries that would plague his career. Year after year. One giant punch in the ear. He still was named league MVP. He still got to play in the All-Star Game. He still was named to both the NBA’s First-All Defensive Team and the All-NBA First Team. He still was able to return for the playoffs. Not for long. Not so strong. Things went wrong. Bill was re-injured in the second game against the Seattle Supersonics. Without Walton, Portland lost the series in six games. Big Bill would never play for the Trail Blazers again. He was in and out of action with Clippers for about five years. But he was resurrectd by Red. Lazurus style. His last hurrah. His last hurrah with the Boston Celtics. World Champion Boston Celtics. Resurrected and winning a ring. Resurrected and earning Sixth Man of the Year. Resurrected and playing on the best basketball team I ever saw. The 1986 Boston Celtics. But that was it. His ankles couldn’t hold out and he was forced to retire. Retire a champion. Oh, what could have been.
Others of Note: Grant Hill, Teemu Selanne, KiJana Carter, Barbaro, Freddy Lynn, Bernard King, Nomah, Correll Buckhalter, Mantle, Ted Johnson, Kenyon Martin and Kerry Wood who just fell getting out of the hot tub and is hurt gain.
josh q. public. For the public, by The Public. Irreverent sports opinion from a Bostonian in New York. The one blog to read, when you’re reading more than one. Good to the last drop!
American League in RBIs. Yes, Hamilton is among the leaders in home runs and slugging percentage. Yes, he plays a dy-no-mite center field. Yes, he’s doing all that; but this Voltron character is tearing it up. Loaded for bearing it up. Haven’t got a prayering it up. Last night, Voltron allowed a meager one run in six innings. Big deal, you say. Who cares, you say. I say that ties a major-league record by allowing fewer than two earned runs in each of his first eight starts in a season. Yowza! I also say only three other pitchers have done that. Just one in the live-ball era, Mike Norris of the A’s in 1980. The others were Dana Fillingim of the 1918 Boston Braves and Dutch Leonard of the1914 Red Sox. Now that’s saying 
something. That’s saying a lot. I’ll say something else. I’ll say Voltron is 6-1. I’ll say he leads the National League with a 1.12 ERA. I’ll say he’s mixing in a 96-mph fastball with a sick change. An ill change. Most illinest, stealinest, villianest B-Boy change. Dare I say it? A Pedro change. It’s no wonder they call him Little Pedro. Everybody’s been yipping about Johnny Cueto. Everybody’s been yapping about Johnny Cueto. Where is the love for Edinson? Father, Father, Father help us. Send some guidance from above. ‘Cause people got me, got me questionin’. Where is the love? 
things around. Turning things around is what this cat does. In 1993, he took over the Giants. Took over the Giants coming off a 72-win season. Skippered them to a remarkable 103 wins. Fast forward to 2003. Fast forward to the Cubs. Sixty-seven wins in 2002 without Dusty. Now this looks like a job for me. So everybody, just follow me. Cause it feels so empty, without me. 88 wins and the NL Central title with him. Now he’s taking over the Cincinnati Red Legs. That’s good news for the Red Legs. The Red Legs already have the bats. Already have the rat-a-tat-tats. The big ole cats. Big ole cats like the big bopper Adam Dunn. Big ole cats like Griff. If Griff stays healthy, look out. Big ole cats like Brandon Phillips. Breakout year last year. Broke out joining Alfonso Soriano as the only second basemen in major league history to hit 30 homers and
steal 30 bases. Yowza! That’s a pretty good middle of the order. Middle of an order that finished third in the NL with 204 bombs. Bombs away, but we’re O.K. Bombs away, in old Bombay. Bombs away in old Cincinnate’. But, like the man says, you’re only as good as your next starter. The Reds next two starters are Aaron Harang and Bronson Arroyo. Now that’s a pretty potent one two. One two buckle my shoe. Matt Belisle and Homer Bailey behind them. Three four, closing the door. Closing the door just in time for Francisco Cordero. Newly signed stud closer Francisco Cordero. How do you spell relief? Yes, there are some glaring holes. Glaring holes at leadoff. Kenny Lofton anyone? Glaring holes at middle relief. Yes, there are holes, but there is joy in Mudville. Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright. The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light. I think that somewhere is Cincinnati. 
What’s the frequency Kenneth? I’ll tell you what the frequency is. Ken Griffey Jr. just hit his 569th career homer. That’s what the frequency is. He just moved into a tie for ninth place with Rafael Palmeiro. That’s what the frequency is. Just four back behind Harmon Killebrew. Fourteen back behind Mark McGwire. That’s what the frequency is. Griffey has been on a tear since the Red Legs moved him back into his accustomed third spot in the order. Since the Red Legs moved him back into his 
knocked down. But he got up again. You’re never going to keep him down. Throughout the nineties he was a beast. The high priest. The best from West to East. Junior was arguably the best player of the decade. Cashing that checkade. A one man wreckade. He produced runs. He hit for average. He hit over .300 in seven years of the ‘90s. He hit for power. It’s gettin’ it’s gettin’ it’s gettin’ kinda hectic. He’s got the power. He smashed 422 bombs during the decade. He was the best center fielder of the
decade. Gold Gloves from 1990 to 1999. Great range. Sick range. Home, home on the range. Where the deer and the antelope play. Diving plays. Spectacular plays. Say Hey Kid plays. Wheaties boxes. Knock off your sockses. Bagels and loxes. He was the man. He won games with his legs. Saving baseball in Seattle with his legs. You remember. You remember Game Five versus the Bombers. Series even at two apiece. Bottom of the 11th against the Bombers. Junior on first. Edgar with the hit. Hit it just a little bit. Hit it lickety split. There goes Griff. He…could…go…all…the…way. He does! He does! He scores from first base! Mariners win! Mariners win! Then he moved to Cincinnati. Then the injury bug hit. The injury bug hit hard. From 2001 through 2004, Junior was plagued by an endless string of injuries. Season-ending injuries. The injuries lowered his bat speed, lessened his power and curbed his home run production. He slugged only .426 before going down in 2002. His lowest output in seven years. He’s never been the same. A candle without a flame. The glory gone out of his game. But not so fast. He’s back. Back again. Griffey’s back. Tell a friend. Yup, Griffey’s back. Tell a friend. Tell ‘em the Public sent ya.
Josh Hamilton: Athens Drive High School. Raleigh, North Carolina. Phenom. Phenomenal. High School All-American. Two-time winner of the North Carolina Gatorade High School Player of the Year Award. USA Baseball’s Amateur Player of the Year. Baseball America High School Player of the Year. All that and a bag of sunflower seeds. The kid had it all. Standing tall. The most 
exciting prospect in all of baseball. He had the intangibles. He had desire. He had drive. He had composure. He had competitiveness. He had coachability. This was the stuff dreams were made. First pick in the draft. Four million dollar bonus baby. The Devil Rays drafted him instead of taking Josh Boom Boom Beckett with the overall top pick. Played some minor league ball. Got hurt. Got hooked on the horse. Oh, and I guess that he just didn’t know. Lost three years of his life. Lost three years waiting for his man. Lost three years 
twenty-six dollars in his hand. Lost three years up to Lexington, 1-2-5. Lost three years feeling sick and dirty, more dead than alive. Lost three years waiting for his man. But like Jack Torrance, he’s baaack. Back and as good as ever. Back with the Cincinnati Reds. Back with a vengeance. Back into spring training batting .476 (20-42). He has launched a 500-foot bomb. By April 1, he should be the Reds starting centerfielder. Pushing Junior to right. Look at me, I can be, centerfield. Teammate Ryan Freel: “He’s a great story.” He certainly is Ryan, he certainly is. 
Jon Lester: Bellarmine Preparatory School. Tacoma, Washington. Another Phenom. Another Phenomenal. Another Gatorade State Player of the Year. Tore up the minor leagues. Portland Sea Dogs. League-leading 2.61 ERA. League-best 163 strikeouts. Eastern League Pitcher of the Year. Red Sox Minor League Pitcher of the Year. Left-handed pitcher on the Eastern League’s year-end All-Star team. Year-end Topps AA All-Star squad. On top of the world looking down on creation. Best young pitcher in the nation. More fun than 101 Dalmatians. The rookie lefty made his Major League debut in June. The rookie lefty went 7-2. The rookie lefty threw sixty Ks 
in eighty innings. The rookie lefty contracted the cancer. On August 27th, 2006 Lester was scratched from his scheduled start due to a sore back. The following day he was placed on the 15 day disabled list. Three days later, it was reported that Lester had been diagnosed with a treatable form of anaplastic large cell lymphoma. There it was. There was a kind of hush all over the world. A deafening hush. Made my insides turn to mush. Another dream crushed. But this kid’s a fighter. He fights. He fought off the 
cancer. And just like Josh Hamilton, who just like Jack Torrance, is baaaack! On March 5, Lester made his first appearance in a 2007 spring training game. He threw 8 pitches and retired the 3 batters he faced. Good news. Real good news. Oh my baby’s comin’ home tomorrow, ain’t that good news, yeah, ain’t that news. My baby is coming home tomorrow, ain’t that news, yeah, ain’t that news. Diana Ross & the Supremes style.
back on the left side of my flack. I had an extra one. And as I handed it to him, it just went off in my hand.” Went off in his hand and blew off three fingers. Purple Heart. The doctors were able to save all but his pinky on his glove hand. You’re in the big leagues now. His fastball touches 93 mph, but a curve ball’s what his pitch is. So here he comes, like dum ditty dum. He keeps all five boroughs in stitches. Cooper Brannan will try to distinguish himself once again. This time in a different uniform. This time in a Padre uniform. Another uniform he is proud to wear.
Bombers. Series even at two apiece. Bottom of the 11th. Junior on first. Edgar with the hit. There goes Griff. He…could…go…all…the…way. He does! He does! He scores from first base! Mariners win! Mariners win! Then he moved to Cincinnati. Then the injury bug hit. The injury bug hit hard. From 2001 through 2004, Junior was plagued by an endless string of injuries. Season-ending injuries. The injuries lowered his bat speed, lessened his power and curbed his home run production. He slugged only .426 before going down in 2002. His lowest output in seven years. He’s never been the same. A candle without a flame. The glory gone out of his game. Griff will still go down as one of the all-time greats, but, oh, what could have been.
first overall pick. Picked first by the Quebec Nordiques. Pulled an Eli Manning. Refused to play for Quebec. Demanded a trade. Done. Traded to Philly. Herschel Walker style. The E Train was big. The E Train was strong. The E Train could make plays. The E Train could rack up the points. For much of his first five seasons in the NHL, Lindros hovered around 4th all-time in points per game. Showing no shame. Say my name! He led the Legion of Doom line. He led the Flyers to the Stanley Cup finals in 1997. Philly fans were in heaven. Got their engines revin’. He scored over 40 goals in each of first two seasons. He won the Hart Trophy. Man Child. Running wild. Leaving foes beguiled. 
But his tough style took its toll. Eric spent many a game on the injured reserve. Eric suffered a series of concussions. During a game against the Nashville Predators, he suffered what was diagnosed as a rib injury. Later that night, teammate Keith Jones discovered Lindros lying in a tub, pale and cold. Not a rib injury at all. A collapsed lung. A collapsed lung caused by internal bleeding of his chest wall. He’d bled out more than half his body’s total blood volume. Egads! More concussions. His toughness now in question. The C ripped off his jersey. Lindros still leads his team to the Eastern Conference Finals. Then The Hit. The Scott Stevens hit. Another concussion. The 
beginning of the end. He played for the Rangers for the next three seasons. In 2004 he sustained his eighth concussion. Two doctors advised him to retire. Things were getting dire. But he still had that desire. The Toronto Maple Leafs. Torn ligament in his left wrist. Out for 27 games. Just not the same. He re-injured the same wrist while taking a slap shot in a game against the Ottawa Senators. Season over. He’s on the Stars now. You wouldn’t know it. A shell of the man he once was. Oh, what could have been.
3. Bill Walton: Made his mark at Pauley Pavillion. Made his mark playing for Wizard Wooden. Made his mark winning the National Title game in 1973 over Memphis State. Made his mark nailing 21 of 22 field goal attempts and scoring 44 points. The greatest ever offensive performance in college basketball ever. He didn’t stop there. No siree, Billy. Yet another number one overall pick to make this list. You getting the gist? The injuries came fast and furious. It was curious. How could one guy be so injurious? In his first two seasons, he broke his nose. He broke his foot. He broke 
his wrist. He broke his leg. Goodness. He didn’t get hurt his third year. He made that loud and clear. Portland fans could stand and cheer. Big Bill led the NBA in boards. Big Bill led the NBA in blocks. Big Bill made the All-Star team. Big Bill made the NBA’s First-All Defensive Team. Big Bill made the All-NBA Second Team. That was just the regular season. In the post-season, he led Portland to a 4-0 sweep of the Lakers in the conference finals. In the post-season, he led Portland to the NBA title in over the heavily favored Seventy-Sixers. In the post-season, he was named the Finals MVP. The next year he took over where he left off. The Blazers won 50 of their first 60 games. Then the broken foot. The first in a long string of foot and ankle injuries that would plague his career. Year after year. One giant punch in the ear. He still was named league MVP. He still got 
to play in the All-Star Game. He still was named to both the NBA’s First-All Defensive Team and the All-NBA First Team. He still was able to return for the playoffs. Not for long. Not so strong. Things went wrong. Bill was re-injured in the second game against the Seattle Supersonics. Without Walton, Portland lost the series in six games. Big Bill would never play for the Trail Blazers again. He was in and out of action with Clippers for about five years. But he was resurrectd by Red. Lazurus style. His last hurrah. His last hurrah with the Boston Celtics. World Champion Boston Celtics. Resurrected and winning a ring. Resurrected and earning Sixth Man of the Year. Resurrected and playing on the best basketball team I ever saw. The 1986 Boston Celtics. But that was it. His ankles couldn’t hold out and he was forced to retire. Retire a champion. Oh, what could have been. 
