Today my fantasy team jettisons Jeff Weaver for the second, and absolutely last, time.
I paid a lot for him in 2003 (7-9, 5.99 ERA, 1.62 WHIP, thank you very little). I paid only a small sum for him this year as an "end-gamer" (after last night's shelling at home against the Royals, 0-4, 18.26 ERA, 3.09 WHIP).
This time I mean it. Never again.
Here are just some of the things I would do rather than own Jeff Weaver again:
- Swan dive from the "Monster Seats" at Fenway
- Re-enact the "hotel scene" in Borat opposite Bob Wickman
- Inject my eyeballs with Barry Bonds' cattle-muscle steroid
- Hitch a ride with Tony LaRussa in a bar parking lot
- Root for the Yankees
- Call Delmon Young out on strikes
- Let Gary Sheffield use my head as a batting tee
- Invest money with the M's exec who gave Dream Weaver $8 million this season
- "Take one for the team" with Joel Zumaya on the mound
- Schedule my summer vacation in Iraq
- Call Ron Artest a "punk" and lie that I slept with his sister
- Get between C.C. Sabathia and his next meal
- Own Jorge Julio on my fantasy team
- Refuse to tell Jack Bauer what he wants to know
- Have my head nailed to the floor by Dinsdale Pirhana
- Hand the ball to Bob Stanley Mitch Williams Byung-Hyun Kim with the World Series on the line
- Negotiate a trade with Albert (guy in my fantasy league)
- Go hunting with Vice President Cheney
- Tell Joe Pesci to go home and get his shine-box
- Wear a Johnny Damon Yankees jersey at the L Street Tavern in Southie
- Live in a nuclear war aftermath dystopia hiding from H-Ks and terminators
- Be reincarnated as Tony Conigliaro's left eye
- Play catcher without a cup
- Let my kids spend time with Peyton Manning
- Own Jae Seo on my fantasy team
- Plunge the jagged edge of my Alex Gonzalez broken bat through my corroded artery
- Eat a meal at Mendy's with Kenny Bania
- Watch a ballgame at The Trop
I'm not saying I hope he accidentally walks into an open manhole cover. Let's just say if it happens, the Weaver Family won't be receiving a condolence card from me.
Good riddance, Jeff. I hate you with a passion that blazes with the fire of a thousand suns.