Tagged: Washington Nationals

Goodbye, Brian Anthony Bruney

With today’s news that Bruney was traded to the Nationals for a draft pick (please let whoever it is be good), I thought we should give the former Yankee a nice send-off.
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He came to us after having been DFA-ed by the Diamondbacks and left by the side of the road somewhere in Arizona.
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After a stint in the minors, he arrived in the majors looking downright flabby.
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A reliever who was used in several situations, he was impressive but inconsistent and I, for one, got tired of hearing about his “good stuff” because he always seemed to walk the leadoff batter. He decided to go on a diet in the off-season and showed up in Tampa 20 pounds lighter.
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He pitched well – so well that he was supposed to be Mo’s 8th inning set-up guy. But then tragedy struck: the same dreaded lisfranc injury that had robbed us of poor Wang.
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He avoided surgery and returned to the team, but he was never the same. He tried shaving his head. He tried changing the number on his uniform. He tried biofeedback, acupuncture and psychic intervention. He even tried visiting a faith healer.
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(See him standing off to the right, behind the guy in white?) Despite his best efforts, he was relegated to the role of mop-up man.
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Frustrated and unhappy, he lashed out at K-Rod after the Mets closer gave one of his “performances” on the mound.
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“A tired act” is what Bru called K-Rod’s celebration, verbalizing what most Yankee fans were already thinking. The remark came back to bite Bru the next day while the two teams were warming up on the field.
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K-Rod took exception but no punches were thrown, and Bruney eventually apologized.
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And now Brian Bruney is gone. Yes, he has become a Nat.
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I wish him the best of luck with his new team and urge him to remember the great times he had as a Yankee whenever he gets sad. I mean, he did win the World Series. That’s nothing to sneeze at.
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This Really Happened (Warning: Not for the Squeamish)

While the rest of the country has been getting blitzed by snow and ice and frigid temps, we’ve been spared here in Santa Barbara. But it’s been unseasonably cold – in the 30s at night. Brrr.

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My husband Michael and I decided to make a big, steaming hot pot of chili for a chilly night. Perfect, right?
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Hmm. 
A roaring fire…
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some red wine…
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a little shredded cheddar on the chili…
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and we were all set. The meal was so delicious that we didn’t even talk. We just stuffed our faces and every few minutes went, “Wow, this is good.”
When we were finished, Michael turned on ESPN and I started to put the leftover chili away in those Tupperware bowls.
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I was placing one of the bowls on the shelf in the refrigerator when I heard someone on ESPN say, “The Nationals may have upped their offer to Mark Teixeira in an attempt to land the free agent first baseman before Christmas.”
O.K. I was clearly stunned by this news and what happened next was all my fault. Still, I blame Tupperware for not having tighter lids.
Yes, the bowl slipped out of my hands, bounced onto the hardwood floor and splattered chili everywhere – onto the walls, onto the furniture, even into the air conditioning ducts.
Picture this…
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covering every surface imaginable.
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If it weren’t for the kidney beans, you would have thought it was a bloody crime scene.
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Next came the accusations, the recriminations, the “It’s your fault”s.
“If you hadn’t gotten all distracted by the Teixeira thing, we wouldn’t have to spend the next four hours cleaning this up!” said Michael.
“It’s the Nationals that caused it, not me!” I countered.
I suggested we call in the professionals. I mean, the white walls were now stained a revolting orange-y red. There wasn’t enough Fantastik on the planet to spray it off.
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But my ever frugal husband said we had to to handle this on our own.
Which, of course, meant that I had to handle it on my own.
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I didn’t know which part of the evening upset me more – the Teixeira news, the mess, or the fact that my leftover chili was no longer on the menu for tomorrow night. Although Michael did suggest that I save it off the floor. The barbarian.
It was nearly midnight when I’d finished cleaning. As I passed out from sheer exhaustion, I remember wondering, Is Mark Teixeira worth this?
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