In the
fertile year of 1956 on a spry March morning, a baby worked his way out of his
mother’s warm and cozy womb and into this cold world. After taking one look at
the massive baby, the doctors informed his parents that, scientifically
speaking, their baby would be the greatest human being to roam the world since
Arthur Granjean, the man who invented the etch-a-sketch. His parents,Mr. and
Mrs Showalter were young and passionately in love. They rightfully decided that
only name fit for such a mighty infant was William Nathaniel Showalter the 3rd.
It was only at William Nathaniel's 5th birthday party, after a bizarre
naked deer hunting excursion, that he earned
the moniker "Buck".
This wonderful babies journey
toward glory started in Florida where his parents resided.Young Nathanial
soaked in vitamin D from the sun and copious amounts of protein from his
mothers’ seemingly endless supply of breast milk. Buck's father, WNS the 2nd, had
just turned down an offer to play fullback (before those dang hippies and their
"spread offense" made the position as unnecessary as Katy Perry’s
appearance on this weeks College gameday) with the Steelers in the NFL to
become a high school teacher. What a decision that was! Secretly, his favorite
part of the job was delivering the "birds and the bees" talk to
wide-eyed freshmen every year (Mr.Showalter was never instructed by anyone to
talk to his students about this, he simply did so out of his love for the human
reproductive cycle). While he wasn't spending his time warning his students
about rounding the bases on dates, he was encouraging them to round the bases
on the diamond, as he was also the high schools baseball and football
coach.
When Buck was a child, his father found a near death,
malnourished stray mutt on the side of the highway. With a few trips to the
vet, a lot of whole milk, and tender love, the Showalters' were able to nurse
the dog back to health. They named the dog Adam, because he was always naked
and loved apples. Buck loved Adam and taught him how to field baseballs and
somehow pitch (he had a nasty spitball, in every sense of the word). Adams
favorite position was center field where he would chase down Bucks hits like
they were milk bones being flung from a rocket launcher in the sky.(Buck would
often soak the ball in his daddy’s bacon grease to make Adam love baseball as
much as he did.)
Buck listened to father time’s orders and
grew up beautifully. He earned a scholarship to Mississippi State and went on
to have an outstanding career there, both on and off the diamond. After years
of raucous Beatles themed parties (Buck was always Ringo Starr) and stealing
second base, Buck graduated with honors. He then enjoyed a wild seven-year
career in the Yankees minor league system playing first base. However, Buck
didn't take his fathers birds and bees talk to heart as he and and his saint of
a wife (what a lucky dame!) gave the world the gift of William Nathanial
Showalter the fourth, as well as a daughter a few years later,
finally silencing the vicious rumors of Infertility that had haunted Buck
for so long. Both children declined my request for an interview
(understandable) as well as my simple request for a video recording of their
father sleeping (where do they get off?!).
As Showalter's playing days
came to a finale, and his days as a father had just premiered, he knew he was
not ready to walk away from freshly cut grass and open showers just yet. He
began a career in coaching baseball and jumped through many hoops and
eventually ended up being cast as himself on Seinfeld, and on the side he
managed the New York Yankees. George Costanza and Monks Cafe were the main
reason Buck resided in the city that never sleeps, but he never stopped
yearning for simpler pastures.In 1981, he turned down a lucrative chance to
become business partners with Kramer selling left handed scissors (Lefties are
people too, jerry!)in favor of moving to the dessert of Arizona to manage the
Diamond Backs.For the next 30 years, Buck wore many hats. He managed the
Diamondbacks and Rangers, worked in the Cleveland Indians office of Baseball
operations, and also worked as the best-looking analyst on ESPN's Baseball
Tonight (the shows ratings among the female demographic never recovered after
his departure).
Buck the 3rd found his own malnourished pet when the
Baltimore Orioles offered him the job as manager in 2010.The Baltimore
Orioles hadn't made the playoffs since 1997.They had been the worst team in
the league for some time and there was no end to their dry nightmare in sight.The
Orioles had a roster with more holes than a Roger Goodell apology and their
clubhouse moral was similar to that of North Korea after the passing of the
honorable Kim Jung Il.The orioles had been so terrible, that most residents of
Baltimore were more proud of their native food seasoning, Old Bay, than the
Orioles they once passionately loved like newlyweds in a Tom and Jerry themed
honeymoon suite. Copious amounts of Natty Boh were being scoffed down in a
futile attempt to numb the pain of the 15 year playoff draught. Many nights I would wonder around the Baltimore Harbor after enjoying a few too many of these
beverages loudly and aggressively asking innocent bystanders things like "WHERE
IN THE HELL DID YOU PUT CAL RIPKEN?!, HE HAD SOME GOOD YEARS LEFT! YOU KNOW
THAT? HES THE IRON MAN, HE COULD'VE PLAY TILL HES 80, MAYBE 90!" and
"SCREW YOU, KEVIN COSTNER!"
Just like his father before him, Buck nursed the team back to health with
a steady diet of savvy personnel moves, thorough motivation, and sex
appeal. Buck managing baseball is as natural as Chef Boyardee in the kitchen,both pure bread geniuses. After just two full
years of rebuilding, Buck performed a Houdini esque magic trick that ended with
the Orioles miraculously appearing in the 2012 playoffs! Therapists in
Baltimore were loosing customers by the bushel, and crystal meth sales have
plummeted since Buck arrived in town. This, our third winning season in a row,
made me finally accept the fact that the iron man retired (who am I kidding?
SOMEBODY HOLD ME!) and I am now basking in the glow of the Orioles
success.Maybe one day, with Bucks help I can stop yelling at strangers and
sleeping with a life sized custom ordered Cal Ripken stuffed replica
doll. The funny thing about this story is that the Orioles best player and ball
hawking center fielders name is…..Adam. You just can't make ANY of this
stuff up.
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