I think now is about as good a time as any to familiarize our readers with a player who is not an ally of the blog, and in fact, this player in particular is an enemy. This player is Philadelphia Phillies scrub outfielder Jason Werth. Now I’m guessing from what ensued on saturday night with this guy, he’s the type to go out and search the web for anything written about his insignificant ass when he has a free minute away from hound-dogging every woman in sight the ballpark, so Jason if you’re reading this, you earned the reputation of jackass fairly. I’m glad you’re in Philly and not Cincinnati because you are “Werth-less” to any team that has you, and you do a ball club no good to anyone that has the unfortunate situation of taking up a spot on their 25 man roster. You’re simply collecting a paycheck to hit .246, look into the stands for more tail, and distract other players on the team that would normally be paying attention to the game.
So me and my buddy Justin, camouflage hat resting proudly on his head are sitting there watching a close game in about the 5th inning between the Reds and Phillies, and Justin leans over to me and says something that is somewhat surprising. The reason it was surprising is simple logic. Justin is a cool friend of mine. He’s also probably the most conservative friend I have. Of course, one could guess that by the fact he wears a camouflage ‘SCAGG Equipment’ hat everywhere he goes, right?
“I’ll tell you man, that Werth, on the Phillies, he’s NOTHING BUT TROUBLE.”
I started laughing my ass off, because he was dead serious, and usually he just doesn’t make snap judgements and outlandish statements like that without warrant. I asked Justin what he was talking about (after cracking up), and why he said something like that.
“Dude, just watch him. He could care about anything but the game. He’s not even watching the game. I mean, aren’t you taught in little league to keep your head in the game? Look at him, he’s looking up into the stands every few seconds, he’s laughing and joking about stuff, just could care less about what’s going on in the field.”
Now, I wanna give ballplayers the benefit of the doubt. I think my reason for this is because I was one at one time. I know what it’s like when you’re not playing unfortunately. That said, after studying Werth for about an inning, it was just ridiculous. He was openly just staring, tongue out of his mouth at anything in the stands with longer than shoulder-length hair. You could just tell, this guy is a man-whore of a player. After telling Justin that he was right-on about Werth, he offered a bit more.
“Yeah, I’m telling you dude, this guy is just awful, and he’s been distracting Howard; who’s actually trying to watch the game. Plus he’s just about the homliest-looking man I’ve ever seen. He’s just awful,” Justin added.
The next in-between innings, Werth turned around for about the 20th time. Relaxed and perched at his post, he was just looking right at a girl in particular directly in front of our seats. I decided to test the waters and see what kind of goof-ball we were dealing with here.
“Hey, Jason, the game is the OTHER way. Turn around, watch the game. You might have to player later,”
I could see that Werth was the type that didn’t like being called out when he was gawking at a woman. He also didn’t like to be told what to do. He mouthed something under his breath that looked like it involved the words ‘fuck’ and ‘motherfucker’ and then turned around back to the game. I didn’t appreciate being cussed at and stared down either, afterall, who the hell is he? He gets shit on everytime I’ve ever seen him hit.
“Good man. There’s plenty of time to hound-dog for women later. Just watch the game, like I said you might get in later,”
He then turned around and started going nuclear. The injured and former NL MVP Ryan Howard also turned around and stared me down hard. Howard pretty much stared all men, women, and children down hard anytime they said anything to him all weekend. Maybe it’s the pulled quad, or maybe it’s the reason why he has a son and no wife. I don’t know, purely speculation I guess. As he stared me down, I stared right back, trying not to show any sign of weakness. I gave him my best Clint Eastwood and then turned my attention back towards that facial hair-dominated hound dog.
Werth quickly snapped back:
“Worried about me playing asshole? YOU NEVER WOULD!”
I started laughing for a couple reasons, and hard. Now, even at the college level I was forced to eat shit from fans. Hell even in high school the dicks from Upper Arlington knew my parents name, knew what street I lived on and what car I drove. They told me everything short of that they were going to fuck my sister, but never, not even once did I respond to their banter. Proffessionalism. You’re above it. Here you’ve got a Major League ballplayer of several years and he can’t ignore a fan that notices his tongue hanging out of his mouth while checking out women? Was I wrong for telling him to get his head in the game? I mean, ever heard the statement ‘act like you been there before’? Usually it’s used in the context of someone hitting a homerun, but Werth would have to play to do that. In Werth’s case, I just wanted him to act like he’s seen a woman before. Take one look and be done with it, jeese.
I laughed and taunted back at his brutal comeback. Then the rest of the game he stared me down, and I stared right back with a look that says “You’re fucking lucky I can’t get over this fence without my press-pass, dickface.”
Needless to say, for the rest of time, Jason Werth can fuck a dick. He’ll be kicking around in the minors soon, but at least there he can stare at women from the playing field, maybe. I was lucky enought to get a rare picture of Werth at least appearing to watch the action on the field. Lucky me.