DISCLAIMER: If you wanna know what this madness you'll be reading in this post is all about, you should check out Nachos Grande and see the details on his bracket contest I'll be participating in for the next few weeks. It's gonna be huge. This is just the prelim round, by the way. It'll get way sillier as it goes on. That's a promise.
This is Carlos.
For whatever reason, Carlos is not happy today.
Just look at that peeved expression. Look at that unenthusiastic stance. Look at that Astros logo. You can tell without evidence that Carlos just isn't into things today.
You can hardly blame him. Carlos is going through the absolute worst day of his life today, as depicted by this stunning display of $1 cardboard from Topps. It can be argued that he's having an awful day BECAUSE he's on a Topps Attax card, but I beg to differ; children of 2011 got to all wonder in unison who the heck Carlos Lee was, before pulling cards of Jeter, Ortiz and Halladay in the same pack as him and showing them all to dad. Carlos Lee could secretly live for that kind of recognition, therefore we're just going to assume that he does.
Here now, in bulleted form, because that is how I roll--unless I'm in a wheelbarrow or at a Stones concert, in which case, that would be how I roll-- are some other reasons why Carlos is having the worst day of his life. And yes, today is worse for him than the day he was traded to the Marlins.
- Right there on the card it says he is in the same company as Alex Rodriguez. Alex Rodriguez took steroids. Now all of these people reading the card associate Carlos with steroids, which he denies ever taking. For the only time in his life, he knows how OJ feels. The jury is still out on how.
- There appears to be a horizontal flame going through Carlos' torso. This does not fit Carlos very well, as he requires his torso to play baseball. Someone who is rich in the art of puns would call what is depicted on the card a rare form of heartburn. Someone standing next to someone who is rich in the art of puns would slap that person for such an awful joke.
- Carlos has gone through an entire at-bat without realizing that someone has sawed his bat in half. This explains the 0-2 count, he reassures himself, all the while knowing that he is Carlos Lee, who struck out a million times on a consistent basis, before Mark Reynolds made it a classy move.
- He's playing under a red sky. Either he is on Mars or he's posing for the cover of a U2 album. Either way, this maddens him deeply, as he dislikes both interplanetary travel and 80's rock bands that go soft over time.
- He doesn't know what the numbers floating below his belt mean, nor why they are floating below his belt, yet he is pissed off nonetheless, as they're scaring him.
- Carlos is saddened yet again when he realizes the floating colored balls below his belt are not, as he initially was led to believe, skittles. Carlos is mad that he cannot taste the rainbow, not now, not ever.
- The 45 on his uniform seems to be sliding downward. Carlos is led to believe he is in a Salvador Dali painting. Carlos despises Salvador Dali paintings.
- Carlos does not understand how doubles can magically transform into singles, as is directed on the card. This is bad for him, because nobody else in his team hits anything above a single.
- It's halfway through the season and Carlos just realized that he's still on the Astros.
- Carlos is batting against Aroldis Chapman in the bottom of the ninth, and he knows he has absolutely no shot. Then again, no mere mortal has a shot against Chapman in the bottom of the ninth.
Likewise, he's also close to a day where he'll never have to bat against Aroldis Chapman ever again, at which point, it will be a very, very good day indeed for Carlos Lee.
Especially if that day involves Skittles.