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SBN - Around the Horn (Special "Ben's on the Lam" Edition)

Where in the hell have I been? I've been wondering that, myself. But the truth of the matter is I've been involved in a series of questionable adventures the past few months that have limited my sweet, sweet LonestarBall time. But just like my feelings for sweet lady nicotine, I have a psychological and physiological need for you, the LSB community, even to the extent that I would try to sneak you into a jail facility secreted in my buttcrack.

Jail facilities and sneaking things into them being on my mind, of course, because one of my recent adventures involved ... well... See, it's like this. I was wrongly detained by, as they say in Eastside, the "po-po." Despite my grim-faced protestations, the police refused to acknowledge their error. Even, in fact, when they released me the next day, they were curiously silent as to why I had to be detained overnight only to be released without having to see a judge or post bond. Verily, indeed, there couldn't have been any error involved on the part of North Texas' finest, the Tarrant County Sheriff's department! However, there were a few things to be learned in custody.

First, a fine gentleman who insisted that he knew me because he used to work at a fried chicken place near Dunbar High School, upon finding out that I was a smoker, asked me if I would lend him a hand by helping him "keister" some cigarettes into general population. Now, I don't know the precise mechanics of sneaking contraband into jail (for instance, I know not whether "the ball breaks the plane," so to speak, or whether the cigarettes simply rest between the buttocks like a hot dog in a bun), but because there was nothing else to do I read the jail rule handbook 4 or 5 times and sneaking tobacco into the jail carries the same punishment as attempting to escape or "making or wearing a disguise or mask." So, I did not "keister" any cigarettes, as appealing as ass-sweat flavored smokes sounds.

One other thing of note: the phones in the holding cells do not have a handset. They are similar to a drive-through in that you yell at a speaker and the speaker yells back at you. I had called my girlfriend upon being placed in the cell at 1:30 p.m., who told me that my attorney indicated there was no reason for them to detain me. So I called her back at 11:00 p.m. to tell her the sheriff's deputies sure didn't seem to agree with her and the attorney. Her response: "Oh, Scoon... I'm so sorry. Listen, picture the Holy Spirit as a white ball of healing energy... wrap yourself in the healing energy of the Holy Spirit." Because of the design of the jail phones, her advice to me was heard by ... well, everyone in the cell. So, fixing my features with steely resolve, I said, "Okay, baby." That was also my response to everything else she said for the next few minutes, including "I'm going to get some Virgin Mary candles from Wal-Mart right now so I can burn them for you" and "Well, do you want me to burn St. Jude candles or Virgin Mary?" My advice to you aspiring criminals out there: if you want to give yourself jail cred, make sure your cellmates overhear your insane conversations with your girlfriend. They'll respect you for it.


I seem to remember a few people saying last season that Ron Washington needed to get ejected to fire up the team. Over at Beyond the Boxscore, RJ Anderson has an interesting analysis of that belief, which can be summarized "it's poopycock!" That's not to say that I'm not still a firm believer in Padilla's value to the team. Team feuds that span several series are worth more to my enjoyment as a fan than win-loss records can truly capture. Plus, Nick Swisher is a douche.

I still like Brad Wilkerson, if only for the paroxysms he would send XXXMuscleFag into every time he came up to the plate. If someone like Jay Buhner terrified Ranger fans in a manner completely out of proportion to his actual greatness, Wilkerson is the flip side of that: terrifying Ranger fans every time he came up to the plate completely out of proportion to his actual suckiness. Anyways, Jeff Sullivan has some thoughts about bringing Wilkerson aboard, concluding that despite talk about Wlk's versatility, he's going to be the starting right fielder. Part of me hopes, in a lost season for Ranger fans, Wilkerson posts an .850 OPS just so that LBrooks has something else to gripe about.

I was kind of curious to see what they had to say at the Orioles blog about picking up Adam Jones, et al. And I was interested to see that Rangers fans and Orioles fans have a lot in common. "Truthfully, I've always sort of hated the Mariners." Or this: "I'm honestly looking forward to watching the O's this year. They might lose 100 games. It's a very real possibility. But I get the feeling it'll be a lot more enjoyable to watch a team that is at least trying to point themselves in a direction lose 100 games than it is watching a rudderless mess of a team lose 90. There will be days when Markakis and Jones and all the rest really look like a team that could be going somewhere. And that'll be exciting." Kind of sounds like how I feel about this season.

By the way, if the cops come by tell them you haven't seen me.