“The Yankees buy everything they got… Always have. They even bought Ruth from the Sox, for crying out loud!”
Del Danders pressed one of the flashing buttons. “Marty from Providence, you’re on the air.”
“How are ya, Del?” Marty asked in a thick New England accent.
“Great,” Del said in a tone of voice befitting of his great mood.
“Long-time listener, first-time caller,” Marty explained. After a brief but awkward pause he said, “Wanted to take issue with whatcha said about the Sox.”
“Uh-oh,” Del said in the stupid see-through manner in which most people utter that “word.”
“See, thing about the Sox is… They’re the best team in baseball. The Yankees buy everything they got… Always have. They even bought Ruth from the Sox, for crying out loud!”
“True, but don’t the Bo-Sox do the same thing? Curt Schilling, Manny Ramirez — ”
“Yeah, but c’mon,” Marty whined, since he had no “sensical” counter. “The Yankees are just a bunch of prettyboys and primadonnas. A-Rod’s a punk trash-talker that got what he had comin’ to him. Varitek’s the team captain and a class act and if the rest of the Yankees hadn’a rushed out on the field he would’ve cleaned A-Rod’s clock.”
“But the Bo-Sox have started every fight they’ve ever had with the Yankees, Marty,” Del argued. “I mean, what about when Pedro Martinez tried to take Karim Garcia’s head off with a fastball?”
“Bo-Sox rule!” Marty shouted before hanging up.
Del sighed. “I dunno, this whole thing brings to mind one of the great sports fights I’ve ever seen. Back in the fifties or sixties — I forget when exactly it happened — coaching great ‘Herc’ Broadsides was a ballplayer for the Cleveland Spartans. He may have been playing and managing at that time, actually. I don’t know. Doesn’t really matter. What does matter is that Sandy Koufax nailed him in the skull — and Broadsides was never one to wear a helmet, as I recall — with a fastball. Well,” Del paused to lick his lips. He was clearly relishing sharing this story with his audience. “Broadsides got up, dusted himself off and claimed he hadn’t been hit by the pitch at all. This despite the fact that he was bleeding from a huge lump on the side of his head. Somehow or another, he got to continue with the at-bat. Well, Koufax drilled him again, this time in the jaw. Broadsides hit the deck along with three or four of his teeth. About a half-a-minute passes, he gets back up, same thing. So finally he gets hit with a THIRD pitch — this one hit him in the ribs, I think — and Broadsides loses it… just freakin’ loses it! He starts yelling something about ‘three strikes and you’re out,’ picks up a ball covered in his own blood and throws it at Koufax, charges the mound… Let me tell you, he wailed on Koufax for what seemed like an eternity. I’m sure it seemed like even longer to Sandy. Ha ha ha. They don’t make ’em like they used to, I tell ya. And they sure haven’t made any more like ‘Herc’ Broadsides.”