Good morning. Early basketball for me (well for the kid) so I betcha you can find me tweeting away about now @metspolice
In the meantime, some randomness..
Robert John Valentine, born optimist, had not hit higher than .274 in any of the three major league seasons in which he had any appreciable playing time, nor has he been permitted — by managers or fate — to play a full season.
“That’s why this year is so big for me,” he continued. “I’m not going to come to spring training next year and be given an opportunity to play every day. Sure, I could stay in the big leagues another six, seven years as a utility player, but that’s not really playing the game.”
Bobby V was just warning up. Joe McDonald, the club’s general manager, emerged from a doorway and headed to his car. “What’s going on? Did you do something to deserve a one-on-one interview?” McDonald cracked as he got into his vehicle. Valentine merely smiled and continued talking.
The minutes ticked by. Valentine paused in mid-sentence. “Hey, what time is it anyway?” he asked his interviewer. I looked at my watch. “One twenty-five,” I responded.
We looked at each other. The Mets’ game against the Detroit Tigers was scheduled to start in five minutes.
“Hop in,” I told him. So Bobby Valentine, attired in pinstriped uniform and cleats, glove in hand, was a passenger in my rented car for the short drive to Al Lang Stadium. He thanked me profusely and we parted.
via The Day Valentine was Nearly Late – Weston-Redding-Easton, CT Patch.
