Jobu’s Chrystal Ball for 2012

I have taken to closet drinking. It is sad but true. My buddy Jobu drinks rum while I sip the elixir of life, Crown Royal on the rocks. Every morning around 11AM I drag my pitiful body out of bed, hung over like a mofo. First thing plug in the coffee and punch in SF Giants, Yahoo.

I read Grant religiously even though he kicked me off his website for being a massage artist. It was something like that. I even read (D)errick when he is coherent, which is not often. Hell the comments are worth the mispelling and dangling modifiers. Well enough of that.

As I said Jobu and I drink. Yes I went to India and had a local artisan create a bobble head of my god and friend. He is a very interesting character with superb insight into the wonderful game of Giant’s baseball. You notice I say Giant’s baseball not major league baseball. It has been that way in my household since I was five years old. I grew up with Willy sey hey Mays, Jim Ray hands of stone Hart, Orlando Cepeda and Willy McCovey. But best of all I grew up watching the Dominican Dandy Juan Marichal. I emulated that high leg kick playing sandlot and little league. My high school coach, tyrant, decided to rid me of the trait.

So here is how it goes. About four shots to the wind Jobu starts to speak. He is a scurrolous character, who is a cross between a Voodoo God and Aqualung. If he had his way he would be “sitting on a park bench eyeing little girls with bad intent”. If that makes me ‘massage on istic’ the rest of your perverts need to look in the mirror. So be it.

Jobu talks baseball like no other. He wants to punch Grant in his snot-locker for his cheerleading the Brandon Belt debacle.
“Quit making excuses for the sulking albatross playing left field.” Jobu chimes.
“Rub my belly and, I will make Barry Zito sprain his ankle.” One of my favorites.
“Miguel Tejada resembles an oak tree at shortstop. I think I will pull his groin.” Treading the line there with the authoritative censors of free speech.
“Hell I wouldn’t mind having my groin pulled more often.” OK. OK. Now I’ve really crossed the line.

So here is a more realistic outlook on the upcoming 2012 season. First and foremost Jobu says, and I quote,

“Brett Pill will tear the cover off the ball this spring and Aubrey Huff will develop a mysterious foot injury aka Pat Burrell. Huff will rehab for two months while Pill drives in runs galore and stuns the league with 40 rbi’s in his first forty games. The consumate professional will end up in the fifth spot and lead the team with over 100 runs batted in”

“Brandon Belt will realize he can’t turn on that 95 mph inside fastball and get an early ticket to Fresno. Not because he can’t hit but because Bochy tires of his whining, poor pitful me attitude.” Can you say trade bait?

“Freddy will come back and handle the bat and glove with his usual professional acumen. He will manage at least 120 games and we will all talk after the season that Panik is not yet ready.”

“Buster will start slowly but by the end of the first month he is pounding the ball and driving in runs from the fourth spot in the lineup. What collision? We will all be singing, Hosanah, Hosanah, Hosanah, Ho.”

“A sveldt Pablo will turn into the hitting machine and fielding star we all want so desperately to see. This will be his first golden glove season. Batting 335 with 85 ribbies.”

“Nate, I like Nate. He is a very good defensive outfielder. He will hit about 280 and drive in fifty from spot number seven. He will never be ‘Nate the Great’ but he will be more than adequate.”

“Angel will lead off and actually have a solid year. I expect a 285 average and a top ten leadoff position on base percentage. Willy will talk to him about his agressive outfield play and two errors for the season will be the result.”

“Crawford will bat eighth because he is the Judy in Punch and Judy. Batting a stellar 235, he will learn to move runners and play the field like Ozzie.” Somewhat wishful thinking.

“Well that leaves us with Melky. Batting number six, his numbers won’t be that impressive. Afterall, Pablo, Buster and Brett cleared the bases before him. But he will catch fire at the right time and his name will go down in Giants lore.”

The magic number is 95 people. This lineup will do it. Next time I will bring in my wicked uncle Ernie to expand on the STAFF. Jobu may be sitting on that park bench.


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