The Big Sambino Strides to the Plate
AP: WASHINGTON DC, AUGUST 16, 2005
The Met’s strapping young left fielder, built solid as an oak tree, has stepped up to the plate.
“It’s time,” the Sambino said. “I’ve been going and back and forth on this, but its time to s--t or get off the pot. It’s time to take my cuts.”
As opposed to his brother, rightfielder Josh Jiminez, a singles hitter known for his meticulous preparation and studious observation of tendencies, opponents and teammates (as well as for his six drug suspensions), the slugging Sambino relies on what he calls a “feel” approach to hitting.
“If it ‘feels’ right, I do it” he said.
“Does this feel right?” he was asked.
He grabbed his bat. “It’s time. Speak softly and carry a big stick, that’s all I can say. Actually, better if you speak loud and enunciate clearly, and repeat yourself on occasion, but the stick part stays the same. The big stick part. What was the question?”
Mr. Sambino has hit forty-six home runs this year, all of them to left. He threw his bat at Roger Clemens during a series in June, but claims it was an accident.
“The bat slipped,” he says, “and flew sixty feet and hit Rocket in the head. Weird.”
Sambino has gone through some prolonged slumps, marked by strings of strikeouts, most recently when he whiffed on an easy BMW pitch with the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth against Baltimore. But he always comes out of his slumps strong. Last year, for example, stuck in a rut, he engineered an ingenious trade from his corrupt New York team mired in the basement to a rising world economic power. (No one knows what I’m talking about, but that’s ok.)
“You never know what you’ll get from him,” said his manager, Willie Randolph. “But you know it will be exciting.”
“What did Willie say about me?” Sambino asked. "I didn't know she was his daughter."
When it was time to walk to the plate, he turned back to this reporter.
“Tell Alison I’m going to hit one out for her. Tell her, I’m going to hit it out of the park. Tell her: straight to the moon, Alison.” Sambino then walked by a mirror to check his hair.
Sambino’s brother Zevro Martinez has been showing his support for Sambino by wearing an orange suit, adopting lost dogs, and buying exotic cheeses from all over the world, which he then cuts.
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Sam’s surgery is set for Thursday morning. Good luck to him. He is, honestly, a righteous man. This ear business hasn’t been easy for either of us -- though I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, there’s no one else I’d rather go through it with. Hope all goes well.
The Met’s strapping young left fielder, built solid as an oak tree, has stepped up to the plate.
“It’s time,” the Sambino said. “I’ve been going and back and forth on this, but its time to s--t or get off the pot. It’s time to take my cuts.”
As opposed to his brother, rightfielder Josh Jiminez, a singles hitter known for his meticulous preparation and studious observation of tendencies, opponents and teammates (as well as for his six drug suspensions), the slugging Sambino relies on what he calls a “feel” approach to hitting.
“If it ‘feels’ right, I do it” he said.
“Does this feel right?” he was asked.
He grabbed his bat. “It’s time. Speak softly and carry a big stick, that’s all I can say. Actually, better if you speak loud and enunciate clearly, and repeat yourself on occasion, but the stick part stays the same. The big stick part. What was the question?”
Mr. Sambino has hit forty-six home runs this year, all of them to left. He threw his bat at Roger Clemens during a series in June, but claims it was an accident.
“The bat slipped,” he says, “and flew sixty feet and hit Rocket in the head. Weird.”
Sambino has gone through some prolonged slumps, marked by strings of strikeouts, most recently when he whiffed on an easy BMW pitch with the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth against Baltimore. But he always comes out of his slumps strong. Last year, for example, stuck in a rut, he engineered an ingenious trade from his corrupt New York team mired in the basement to a rising world economic power. (No one knows what I’m talking about, but that’s ok.)
“You never know what you’ll get from him,” said his manager, Willie Randolph. “But you know it will be exciting.”
“What did Willie say about me?” Sambino asked. "I didn't know she was his daughter."
When it was time to walk to the plate, he turned back to this reporter.
“Tell Alison I’m going to hit one out for her. Tell her, I’m going to hit it out of the park. Tell her: straight to the moon, Alison.” Sambino then walked by a mirror to check his hair.
Sambino’s brother Zevro Martinez has been showing his support for Sambino by wearing an orange suit, adopting lost dogs, and buying exotic cheeses from all over the world, which he then cuts.
------
Sam’s surgery is set for Thursday morning. Good luck to him. He is, honestly, a righteous man. This ear business hasn’t been easy for either of us -- though I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, there’s no one else I’d rather go through it with. Hope all goes well.
posted by Josh at 9:00 AM
1 Comments:
actually the other side looks pretty much the same, except for the midgets
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