1. Henry the Horse, 2B
Mr. H. is pure velocity. Swift equestrian poetry in motion. Whether he’s turning a double play, legging out an infield single, or swiping two stolen bases in a row, the Horse (named so because of his large, protruding head and mouth, his bushy mane and tail, and his four-legged running style) is a ruckus-causer of the 10th degree. His only weakness: portions of The Godfather.
2. Rocky Raccoon, 3B
Rumors of Rocky’s demise have been greatly exaggerated. In fact, Rocky has spent the past few years working on his quickness, becoming an instant base-pillager in the process. His anger has been known to get the best of him at times (getting tossed by umps an average of five times a month), but when he does hit in the 2-hole, he provides them with one hell of a Dakota-born spark plug.
3. Mean Mr. Mustard, 1B
The ex-bum still carries a chip on his shoulder from his 60-plus years living on the street. Thus, he is prone to the occasional outburst of rage, and rarely partakes in small talk with opposing baserunners. He also never signs autographs. Even for little children. Which is just as well, seeing as he makes them cry.
4. The Taxman, LF
Completing the triumvirate of irate batters in the heart of the order, the Taxman don’t take no shit from no one. Especially from headphone-wearing fans sitting in the left-field stands, getting in the way of his foul balls. Or from fielders getting into his base path. Or from pitchers throwing balls over his plate.
5. Bungalow Bill, RF
Fresh from his Outback Adventures, Bill is the ultimate power hitter: striking out often, slow-footed in the field, domineering mother, and 40 to 50 home runs a year. Oh yeah, and he also often carries a gun onto the field, which is technically legal by MLB rules and standards. His elephant, however, has been restrained since trampling an anonymous bullpen catcher.
6. Polythene Pam, C
Previous to the MLB Players Association allowing women onto rosters, Pam played under the alias of Demetrius McMacEnroe. Those extra years of experience, unmatched by any other women in the league, has given her an explosive bat, a cannon arm, and an unfortunately deep voice. While she doesn’t call the most cerebral game behind the plate, her ability to block the Walrus’s wild pitches makes it worthwhile. She is, indeed, attractively built.
7. Eleanor Rigby, SS
Enigmatic, remote, and deceased. Yet still more productive than Rich Aurilia.
8. Rita the Meter Maid, CF
This lovely woman’s inclusion on the roster has nothing to do with her batting ability (her average routinely flutters around the Mendoza Line), and has everything to do with her amazing defensive ability. Most of this comes from her experiences of hunting down no-collar criminals and chasing away those buggy lil’ meter fairies. But some of it emanates from having to fend off the scores of horny boys who were attracted to her uniform, not yet realizing they were, in fact, quite gay.
The old grizzled warrior brings a sense of calm and veteran leadership to the squad. Sure, his preaching can get on some of the younger players’ nerves (an issue resolved by cotton earplugs or general ignorance), but his experience is priceless. He just needs to get laid now and then.
The Eggman pitches with the unpredictability of a Mad Lib. He mixes fastballs, changeups, curveballs, knucklers, yellow-matter custard, and sliders randomly at his will. Sometimes in midpitch. He is the pitching equivalent of Hunter S. Thompson or William S. Burroughs. Except on drugs. And without the curvy middle initial.
Tired of taking orders while sailing the open seas on that urine-hued vessel, this sinker-ball pitcher has quietly established himself as a dominant force. While lacking the know-how, confidence, or verbal knowledge of a number-one starter, he does have nautical experience, as evidenced by his peg leg.
The steadiest starter on the team, his ERA has never ballooned over 4.5 in his 10-year career. The lone, petite blemish on his record is that he dabbles in dealing drugs. But seriously, who doesn’t?
Another Social Security pitcher, the Pep doubles as both a bottom-of-the-rotation pitcher and a pitching coach. He is also a co-captain of the Dirty Limerick Foundation of America, focusing on political sexscapade humor.
Once the team’s closer (before relinquishing duties to his cousin), the Fool lost his job once he lost his mind. He still retains value, however, with his intimidating insanity. When the team needs a quick out or some instant retaliation, they send the Fool (and his 95 mph, zero-control fastball) up to the hill. And the batter’s heart tends to beat just a little bit faster. And his knees quiver just a little bit quicker. And his bladder becomes just a little bit more relaxed.
Who do you put in when it’s the bottom of the ninth, the bases are loaded, and you need either a quick punch-out or double-play ball? A blind vagabond, of course. Why? Because he just doesn’t give a shit.
The only problem with Lucy is her inability to control her drug habit. She has spent significant time in the past three years inactive because of mandatory drug suspensions handed down by the league. When she’s not walking around with kaleidoscope eyes, she’s actually quite productive, putting together a solid .302 average and some fantastic web gems. Unfortunately, due to her constant craving, she is only an occasional pinch hitter or defensive replacement.
First- and Third-Base Coaches
Desmond and Molly Jones
Sometimes teams are able to win in spite of their base coaches (ex.: Wavin’ Wendall Kim, Chicago Cubs). This is one of those cases. A game does not go by without Molly leaving early for band practice. Or with Desmond letting the children take over for a few innings. Or with the duo spending half an inning standing on second base, holding hands. Either way, the two of them will always hurt this ball club more than they help it. But, as long as the Joneses possess compromising photos of Manager Shears with Henry the Horse, they will retain a job.
With or without friends, or vocal range, he gets by. He gets by just fine.