"And it is only after seeing man as his unconscious, revealed by his dreams, presents him to us that we shall understand him fully."-Sigmund Freud
She said, "I'm pregnant, and it's yours," but before I could hash out the details (I didn't even know her) I was jolted awake feeling like I was holding a pinless grenade in a fog before habitually turning on some early morning Japanese baseball. Did I just dream that? Next to the bed was a table with a half-eaten banana split and a few other examples of neurotic excess. There's the culprit...beer cans and junk food. I think my reptilian brain was trying to tell me something, but what do I know?
Ex-Oakland Pathetic Sheldon Neuse (Noisy) stepped into the box batting a cool .246, just one point below Kris Davis' mystical and magical average of .247, which he batted an astounding four years in a row. Baseball is an incredibly strange sport, and sometimes you need a sherpa to escort you through its weird-ass peaks and valleys.
Neuse now plays for the Hanshin Tigers who were beating the Yomiuri (Tokyo) Giants and were currently battling for first place. I then recalled that he tore up the PCL in 2019, sending 102 hombres home and sporting an outstanding, 939 OPS. Of course, his numbers were inflated by the warm and humid air in Las Vegas, presumably why Neuse didn't win MVP. Ty France of the Mariners holds the honor. It took a few years for the A's and the Dodgers to figure out Neuse lacked power and was a AAAA player at best--so off to The Land of the Rising Sun he fled, seeking riches and sushi he could never achieve in the bush leagues.
I suppose writing this is an attempt and trying to make sense of things, and even if that sense is scatterbrained, at least I have an incredibly stupid, albeit funny narrative. The game was fun. I made coffee. Life was ok with the understanding that it only takes a small drift of wind to push our ship this way or that.
