Alright, people. I’ve got some nonsense to address. This Yoenis Céspedes troublemaker has been moseying into Mets camp everyday, riding an obnoxious assortment of horses and luxury cars.
Why are we applauding this behavior?
On my first Spring Training beat down in Sarasota in 1964, I’d ride the crosstown bus alongside the good working men and women of the community. You know else who rode this bus? Skip Kittles. And he hit .300 that season.
Meanwhile, this showboat on the Mets is too busy investing in hot rods to invest in his swing; too busy pulling up to ice cream shops and inviting nice young ladies to go for a ride in his Cadillac to pull a fastball over the left field fence; too enamored with champion hogs at the state fair to seek a championship of his own.
I say bologna. Yoenis, I’ve got a proposal for you: hop on the Treasure Coast Connector tomorrow morning, and mix it up with the good people of Port St. Lucie. Ask Janice about her job at the City Parks division. Offer Louie Jones a bite of your egg-and-cheese. And say hi to Old Hank.
Because all these years later, I still ride the bus. And if you don’t get your act together, I’ve got a feeling you’ll be riding the bench.