Right. Okay. Well, then....
So I've been mulling over this latest development at Camp Cardinals, and trying desperately to put into words all that I'm thinking, but (as you might imagine) it's pretty difficult.
I love Big Mac.
No, not the sandwich. (I actually don't like Big Macs.)
I don't really care what you think of me regarding that love, and I completely understand that I'm in the minority with my feelings.
But still, I love him.
I've written about this before, and I don't particularly want to revisit it right now, especially considering that the 2010 pre-season promises to be chock full of MacGoodness until we're all vomiting blood and cursing the national sports media with our dying breaths. So there's no need to burn it all out this early. Best to save some bile for later.
Don't get me wrong, I like Hal McRae. I like recognizing him when his infamous "Royal Rant" is played on the "Top Most Outrageous Sports Meltdowns". I like seeing his hat perched precariously on the peak of his head, ready to fall at any moment. I like his enormous and slightly mischievous smile. Unfortunately, when you're the hitting coach and your team gets swept out of the playoffs due largely to a complete lack of hitting, you probably shouldn't make any plans for redecorating your office.
Mark McGwire may not be the answer, but the better half of the Bash Brothers belongs in a Cardinals uniform for the rest of time, as far as I'm concerned, and if he has to actually wear the uniform for the rest of time to make that a reality (rather than the immortalization I'm hoping for), well, then, so be it.
If nothing else, I guess this effectively settles the question of who will next wear number 25. It will be none other than number 25 himself.
Welcome back, Mac.
