In effort to attract more guys to my blog, I present the following post about a now former Toronto Blue Jay player (bluejays.mlb.com), a DH no less, named Shea Hillenbrand.
Turns out Shea, a early season hitter who tails off after like April, took some time off from the team so he and his wife could adopt a child – yay, Shea!
Then upon returning to the team 2 days ago he was not in the lineup, nor was he in the line-up tonight, so he refused to come to the dugout and made the following statement,
“I love my teammates here, but I’m waiting to be traded,” Hillenbrand said during a profanity-filled tirade before the game. “I should have been traded two months ago.”… “They wonder why they are not winning,” Hillenbrand said. “It’s the atmosphere.”
So the Jays “designated him for assignment”, meaning they have 10 days to release him, trade him or send him outright to the minors. Considering the Jays could use a shortstop or pitcher, he might be marketable.
But for those who know me, and my love of playing sports and watching them, will know that there are a few things one can do in organized sports that REALLY pisses me off. Number 1, is quitting on a team. You just don’t do that. Successful players and teams never quit. The Jays might be a better team now that this whiner is gone. If you quit, you will never lose that tag and there is no coming back. One season while running my ball-hockey team, I brought on 3 friends, of which only one was semi-good enough to play. Of the other 2, one was eager to learn and the other, well he ran a lot and sometimes remembered he was playing hockey and use his stick. Them one game late in the season this player tells me if he doesn’t get more playing time he is going to run on the floor when we are winning a game and cause us to get a penalty for having too many players on the surface. Upon hearing that, I immediately asked him for his jersey and booted him off the team. Quitter. Was going to cause the penalty, then go home. No way.
So Shea, I know you a big reader of this blog, and I want to wish you and your wife a big hearty “Mazel Tov” on the adoption of your daughter and let you know that if you need help packing you shit up, I’ll call 1-800-got-junk and help you get the fuck out of town.