After yesterday's 11-2 stinkfest, it feels quite good putting up this post, illustrating some of the shitty relief-ers from the lost years.
I enjoyed the fact that Cito Gaston brought out of his shitties that were in his dog house to finish up the fucking mess of a game yesterday. It made me want to unearth some of the junk relief crew that we had years before, and start chanting their names:
"ADAMS! FILE! TAM! BORBON!"
That's right! This week is Pedro Fucking Borbon's!
I know, dear readers, that it may seem like I'm just going through the motions with this Shitty Blue Jay thing:
"This week, fill-in-the-fucking-blank, while I show you some numbers derived from Wiki and demonstrate my profanity-laden vernacular."
But I swear to you, dear readers, it's different from that. Not much, but so what?
Pedro Borbon is actually Pedro Borbon Jr. His father, Sr., was THE REAL DEAL, as a relief pitcher for the Cincinnati Reds of the, 'Big Red Machine,' era. He won two Worlds Series rings, before putting a voodoo curse on the Reds, supposedly inducing quite a losing streak, after terminating his services.
Jr., did come from his dad's balls. Although he had his own success, it didn't measure up to Sr.'s, as with all sons trying get out of Dads' shadow. He had made one appearance in the 1995 World Series with the Atlanta Braves, taking over for Mark Wohlers before Wohlers would lose his mind and never throw a strike again. Borbon would get the save, and Atlanta would eventually get the series.
Atlanta kept him until 1996, and there was a 3-year spell in-between Major League stints, when the Dodgers picked him up in 1999. God knows why. By the time we signed him in 2000, he was basically useless.
I remember one Opening Day in 2002. It was the year of Roy Halladay's resurgence. I recall Doc pitching a gem of a game. 8IP, 1ER, 7K, something like that, since memories of Halladay starts bleed over, and all numbers are of a similar theme. Anyway, Leroy pitches this beautiful game, and gets Borbon to come in and close it out for the win. What fuck!
If you have never witnessed Borbon pitch, I'm sorry. Sometimes it's a work of art, and most of the time, it's a piece of shit. I think his sidearm fastball clocked at 85-86 mph, and everything slowed down from there. He had a long, looping curveball, that made hitters salivate, and his fastball was slow and straight.
Anyway, it was excruciating. Having Borbon finish things up was just painful and anti-climactic.
He was labelled as THE closer for part of the 2002 season, before hitters woke up from their cocaine-booze-and-hooker hangovers and started to light him up like a Christmas Tree. He was traded to Houston, mid-season.
CURRENT WHEREABOUTS:
Last seen in 2003 in St. Louis, with an 0-1 record, and a bloated 20.25 ERA.
Can you say retired?
Maybe, dear readers (all 2 of you), you should fill in the blank!
Next Week: Tom Davey
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