Marge Schott owned the Cincinnati Reds when we were little. Never far in between the stories about Marge being a racist; or her smoking an entire carton of Marlboro Reds by the 7th inning stretch, was a story about Marge’s affection for her beloved St. Bernard Schottzie.
Just a thing real quick on St. Bernards. Anyone here own one? I’m sure everyone knows of Beethoven; the cute and cuddly big ass leopard bodied dog who movies were made about. Well yeah, they’re nothing like that. They’re completely fucking psycho. Something in their gene pool was pissed in during their creation. This guy lived down the street from our family. Owned a pair of twin St. Bernards his whole life. They were giants. Probably over 200 pounds each. After being a kind and dutiful owner to them, one day out of the blue they turned on him in his back yard. Both of them decided to attack the guy. He ended up in the hospital and almost died. Sweet pet.
Another story is our father was a cop for a long time. One day he got a call that this guy’s dog was in his car and he couldn’t get it out. Our dad is thinking what the fuck but shows up to the gentleman’s driveway. He arrives to see this monster in the back seat of a station wagon and it’s pissed for no reason at all. Once again, out of the blue it snapped. Sure enough it was a St. Bernard. Our dad calls for backup. Soon six to eight officers are there trying to devise a way to get this big fucker out of the car. It’s clearly going to kill anyone it gets ahold of just because. After an hour long standoff with the monster they subdue it into the back of a dog catcher’s van with several poles.
And after that, I just assumed that each and every St. Bernard on earth was capable of being that fucked up. Now back to our story.
Now Bip Roberts wasn’t hideous. He actually was quite good. He was one of our favorite players growing up. We liked his name. We liked that he looked a little bit like a miniature Barry Larkin. We liked that he could play virtually anywhere on the field. We liked that he was a tough out and that if you had a favorite team he probably played for them for a stint.
But what happened to Bip during the 1993 season definitely qualifies, as hideous. And it led to him no longer being a member of the Cincinnati Reds, which sucked.
An article ran in the Cincinnati Enquirer. Marge’s dog had been getting all kinds of bad press to begin with; you know for shitting on the field, and basically having no fucking business being anywhere near a Major League ball club. Bip told a reporter that Marge’s dog Schottzie had bit him. Soon thereafter, Bip was dealt back to San Diego. This was after he finished 8th in MVP voting in 1992 and made his only All-Star team.
God forbid you put the worthless dog down like you should have Marge. Instead you ship out an All-Star player. Hideous.