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jewish_smores: Bobby, I love starting. You know that. But I'm a realist. We need help in our bullpen. |
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jewish_smores: If you want, I'll go back to closing. Anything to help us win. |
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bobby-coxer: It's a great gesture, it really is. But you need to think long and hard about it. It's not something I'd ask you to do; you have to make the decision on your own. |
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bobby-coxer: Perhaps you should speak to some old friends of mine before deciding. Go to the ex-Brave Relief Pitcher Chatroom, and listen to what they have to say. |
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**OnlineHost** You have entered the Atlanta Braves Reliever Alumni chatroom. |
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jewish_smores: Hey. Anyone in this room? |
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jewish_smores: Hello? |
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jewish_smores: All right, this room is dead, I'm out. |
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ShutUrFuckingFace_Assenmacher:
HALT! |
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jewish_smores: AAAHH |
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ShutUrFuckingFace_Assenmacher:
GREETINGS! my friend, and take a knee
Before the BEARDED RELIEVERS THREE.
We finish what we did not start,
Burdened with our absurd art.
|
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ShutUrFuckingFace_Assenmacher:
For we are born, and then we die
And in between throw changeups high.
Giving spin and changing speed
And then the FATES beckon and lead
Us away to the other mound
That they have laid upon foul ground.
There we soft-toss, and there we pray
That they'll need us again next day.
|
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jewish_smores: /pause |
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ShutUrFuckingFace_Assenmacher:
Hello, old FRIEND! ; you may know me
As the first of the BEARDED RELIEVERS THREE.
The scoreboard called me Assenmacher,
The hitters named me "motherfucker".
I pitched here in the Middle-Eighties
Then cast to FIERY HELL with Hades
Who sent me packing to Chicago
Then
a Cleveland imbroglio. |
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ShutUrFuckingFace_Assenmacher:
The World Series of '95
Muddled my guts into a hive
Of buzzing bees and lack of ease.
I stood and listened to the breeze: |
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ShutUrFuckingFace_Assenmacher:
"ATLANTA-FULTON STADIUM
KNOWS WHEN YOU START AND WHEN YOU'RE DONE.
ONCE MY FRIEND, YOU'VE NOW RETURNED
DESPITE A SPORTING COMPLEX SPURNED.
WITHIN I'LL GRANT YOU NO SAFE HAVEN
FROM AVERY, MADDUX AND GLAV'NE." |
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ShutUrFuckingFace_Assenmacher:
I once warmed this grass and concrete
With BULLPEN-DEPTH! She now depletes
My soul, wrest'd cruelly and conquered.
In but an inning and a third:
A loss, a hit, three walks, a run
A clumsy at-bat, and I was done
with Atlanta-Fulton forevermore.
Baerga flies out, Atlantans roar.
Celebration strikes a noisy din,
But I am now not one of them.
Chipper Jones hugs O'Brien.
But I am now not one of them. |
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ShutUrFuckingFace_Assenmacher:
Lemke, Blauser, Mordecai
pop some champagne. I sit and die.
Somehow, somewhere, deep within
My heart I do produce a grin.
Then heart and soul collapse again
For I am now not one of them. |
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jewish_smores: Are...are there more of you? |
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**OnlineHost** ChristDiedBedrosian has entered the chatroom. |
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**OnlineHost** To be continued... |
