Put Your Pants On, It’s Time To Fight!

Alright, Dodgers bullpen! This is what we’ve been training for. They hit our guy. This is not a drill. I know it was an accident. I know it would have been the world’s worst time to throw at a hitter, down by a run in the fourth inning, a runner already on base, ahead in the count with the platoon advantage, unprovoked. But none of that matters right now. It’s time to look tough.

Everybody crowd up against the fence like you can’t wait to burst through the door. Time to posture. Strike a pose. This moment right here? This is the reason we watched The Warriors so many times. It’s time to get mean. It’s time to maybe, possibly, not really but you never know just in case, shove somebody a bit. We’re ready to jog out there. We’re ready to flex. Everybody ready for a fight?

Lou Trivino, I see you. I love what you’re bringing to the party here. Mean-mugging is an important part of the job, and you’re bucking for employee of the month. Step right up. I’m not sure why you’re holding a baseball with a curveball grip in your left hand. Maybe you’re teaching yourself to become a switch-pitcher, and if so, I would really love to hear all about it once we’re finished looking tough, but right now, just keep up that nasty energy.

Michael Kopech, I see you too. First through the door! You’re leading the charge. They’ve got tickets to the gun show and you’re making sure they get their money’s worth. Time to show those Padres who’s boss. Father’s Day was yesterday, am I right? No, seriously. Was yesterday really Father’s Day? I forgot to call my dad. Ugh. He’s never going to let me hear the end of it. Last year I got him this whole barbecue kit, and now I feel like if I don’t keep getting him stuff like that he’ll think I don’t care anymore. He’s definitely going to know I forgot. Um, sorry. Fight time.

Everybody else, you’re doing great. Give ‘em that thousand-yard stare. Jack Dreyer, I’m confused about why your hat is sitting so very high on your head, but you’re doing great too. OK, I have to ask. Why aren’t you pulling your hat down more? It’s like a full inch above your ears. Did something happen? Did they give you a youth size? There’s a whole box of regular hats somewhere around here. Did you get bumped on the head and now you have one of those gigantic, paraboloid Looney Toons protrusions? Sorry. Doesn’t matter. We’re all doing our jobs here. We’re nailing it. We’re looking tough. We’re the Dodgers bullpen, and we’re ready for a fight.

***

Alright, Padres bullpen! Everybody up! We just hit their guy. We may have to go out there and engage in some light shoving. We may just have to intimidate them from here, Padres style. No, I don’t think he meant to hit him either. Yeah, just doesn’t really make sense given the situation, and like, why would we pick on Andy Pages? Doesn’t matter. Let’s get mean. It’s game time. (Well, not actual game time. We’re going to stop the game for a while so we can stand around looking fierce. Yes, I understand that’s confusing, Jason Adam. It’s time for the game of looking fierce, which means it’s time to pause the actual baseball game. Just put your hands on your hips and scowl, OK?)

Hold up, why is Heberto the bullpen catcher the first one out of the door? Look at the Dodgers bullpen; they’ve got Michael Kopech out front! He’s 6’3” and he’s flexing those biceps like crazy. He’s pacing like a caged tiger. How are we supposed to look tough when we’ve got a 59-year-old in shin guards running point on this operation? Oh my God, Heberto, at least take off your reading glasses. We’re getting ready to brawl, not checking the menu to see if the chicken parm has any allergen warnings.

Why is everybody so far from the fence? We’re supposed to look like we can’t wait to get out there. Look tough! This is why we watched West Side Story so many times.

There’s my guy. Wandy Peralta, you’re looking harsh. Hands on your hips, shoulders way back like you couldn’t care less. That’s what I’m talking about. You just stand there next to Scotty and get it done. Stare ‘em down. Yuki Matsui, you’re doing great. So impatient for a fight you didn’t even bother to put your hat on.

Wait. Who’s that in the back with their pants down? What is happening, Sean Reynolds? Yes, I noticed. Everyone has noticed! Put your pants on, it’s time to fight! No, this is not the same as Matsui. He was in such a rush that he forgot his hat. Pants are not the same. Because it’s just a hat! It’s purely decorative! Everybody needs their pants all the way on.

Robert Suarez, I love what I’m seeing from you. Can’t wait to get through the door. Keep that energy up. Sean, we talked about this. We talked about it a lot. You’re the tallest player on the field. You weigh 250 pounds. We want you out front. You’ve got five inches on Kopech, man. You’re supposed to be our intimidator, and your hands are fully in your pants right now. Did you lose something in there?

Well boys, it looks like cooler heads have prevailed. We can all stand down. No fight this time. I think we can all agree that we’ll need to work on this before Tuesday’s game though. Looks like we’ll have to watch West Side Story again. Maybe the Spielberg one this time.