If you’re waiting for “Get Your Picture Taken With the 2008 MVP Day,” that’s only on Wednesdays.
We’re actually lookin’ for yer roommate. Is he around?
Probably upstairs tuggin’ on his jay-jay. Want me to get him?
That was fast.
Ah. Mornin’, there, Jacoby.
We understand that you’ll be wearin’ a new number next season.
That’s right. Number two.
I see. Ya know, sometimes wearin’ the number two can get you into all sorts of trouble.
What my brother’s tryin’ to say is that some cultures consider the number two to be a little unlucky, heralding the arrival of all sorts of bad stuff. Like plague or pestilence or a new John Mayer album.
You’re a pretty good lookin’ guy. I mean, just imagine if you was running after a pop fly and fell and smashed your face into a pile of bricks or, say, the side of someone’s gun. I mean, that’d hurt, mate. You follow?
Or let’s just imagine, for a moment, that summa that bad luck followed you home. I mean, that’s a nice lookin’ award you got there for most stolen bases by a Red Sox player. But, y’know, things break.
Are… are you guys threatening me?
Threatenin’s a strong word, mate. We’re just makin’ sure you’ve properly considered all the other numbers out there. Y’know, besides the number two.
Anyways, our boss is the only one who does the threatening. He’d like a word with you, too.
Remy! I… I–
You what? You gonna tell me how you weren’t on the phone the minute Brad Mills left town so you could snag number two all for yourself? ::Casually tosses beer bottle to the side of the room and starts to roll up sleeves::
::moving back:: No, no. It’s just… I’ve always wanted to wear number two, and–
And you think just like that we have to give it up?
No. I mean–
Look here, pretty boy. Number two ain’t just something you inherit. It’s something you earn. Something you fight for. Think you’re man enough to wear it?
Back in the day, when I wanted to wear number two, think they just handed it over to my rookie ass? Feck, no! First I had to pay off Mikey Andrews and Doug Griffin, because that’s just what you did. Are you ready to pay?
Then Dewey and Butch Hobson put the number two jersey on a Bengal tiger and locked me in a cage with it, saying that whoever comes out wearing the jersey gets to keep it. And that’s why, to this day, I’m the only major leaguer with a pair of Bengal Tiger slacks. BECAUSE I WANTED IT MORE THAN THE TIGER.
You’re frightening me.
Not to mention the game of “Find the key hidden somewhere on Bob Watson’s body” that I was subjected to if I wanted to get into my locker. I won’t sicken you with the details, but it was probably the most romantic night of Bob’s life.
::Covering his ears:: No more. Please.
Then, just when I thought the number two was finally mine, Yaz came up and kicked me square in the nuts. And when I asked him why, you know what he said?
He said he did it BECAUSE HE WAS YAZ. And as I writhed on the floor, clasping my onions, he pointed and laughed before walking off in a cloud of cigar smoke and teenage girls. But the very next day, when I got to the park, that number two jersey was hanging in my locker. Because I earned it. So now it’s your turn to earn it. ::strips off his clothes:: You think you’re man enough for number two? Kick these nuts. Just you try to kick my nuts!
::Shielding his eyes:: Please, Remy, put your pants back on. I don’t want to see your nuts and I don’t want to kick them and I don’t want your number. You can have it.
Yes. Just take it.
Well that was easier than I thought. Come on, boys. Let’s roll.
Boss, don’t you want to put your pants back on first?
I’m Jerry Remy, motherf#$ker. I wear pants only when it’s convenient for me to do so.
::sidles over to Jacoby:: Dude, that was awesome.
Glad you were amused.
Also, you’re kind of a pussy.
:: The Next Day::
Well, since I couldn’t be number two, I just decided to take the two and add a one to it. So my new number is twenty-one.
Alls well that ends well. Time to call some hookers.
::knock at the door::
Why don’t you get that first. I’ve got to fill out my licensing paperwork.
It’s for you.
What’s up, peckerhead?
* * * * * * * * * *
Interestingly, only three Red Sox players have worn the number two for more than one season since Remy left the Sox: Luis Rivera, Damon Buford and Carl Everett. Coach Millsy has worn it since 2004.
Oh, and if you didn’t know this, the theme for today’s episode was shamelessly cribbed from this Monty Python classic: