Monk-ey Business
As Vice-President Lepa eluded to in his in-depth interview .... there is a scandal being reviewed by the highest levels of the TOT brain trust. At some point the tough questions will have to be asked and this last bastion of journalistic integrity will never be afraid to put the truth in it's proper place. Of course, that means nowhere near this BLOG which will continue to be full of half, quarters and 1/8th truths.
My job is not to spoon feed you. No, it's to give you enough crap to absorb that you can make up your own lies for yourselves.
And here is what we know so far ....
As usual, it's always the innocent looking ones that escape our scrutiny. But when things unravel, they unravel FAST. Unfortunately, with speed comes volume and I'm afraid that this story will be a multi-part endeavor.
Everyone knows Double "E", Emeil Edwards. His bouts of berating umpires, executives and captains are well documented. His intolerance of other players that don't play to his level are regarded as 'motivation' by some, but borderline bullying to others. His utter contempt for outfielders that refuse to dive for each and every ball has become the stuff of legend.
Probably the most disturbing part is the diving. We've all seen players make spectacular plays as they seemingly defy gravity and fly gracefully through the air. Sometimes they get the ball, and other times, just the effort of the attempt is a thing of beauty. Double "E" has no patience or admiration for the attempt. Nor does he have anytime in his day for a conventional catch. Emeil quite literally insists that every outfielder dive on every single fly ball. I've seen balls hit directly to him, that he'll back up 10 steps on, just so he can take a run at it and dive at the end.
Fucking hero complex.
It's hard to say where this all stems from. Some say that Emeil was so pissed off with Scott Barton winning all the batting championships that he decided that he'd make his name defensively. Possibly. Some say that the genesis was local noted tough guy Darryl Gaudet stretching out his glove which Emeil had been left behind after t-ball practice. Emeil still uses that glove to this day, and still hasn't fully grown into it.
From an outsider looking in, it seems to me that Emeil's spiral into the darker recesses of the game, coincided with Edwin Encarnacion appropriating his nickname of Double "E". I'm old enough to remember when Dominican's used to be monks, it's sad to see them now just whimsically stealing nicknames from guys in beer leagues. Ironically, (actually, this one is truly ironic and not just coincidental), Emeil should have shrugged off losing the Double "E" moniker to Edwin and stolen another monk's name - The Trappists. It only stands to reason, as Emeil hasn't made a legitimate catch in his life.
In fact, I think as a tribute, I'll call him The Trappist for the remainder of this BLOG.
It's a trap!(pist)
But while we may be talking about small character flaws, and he is quite a character, none of this is "cheating" per se.
Until it is, of course.
In 2015 The Trappist put together the best year of his career. Hitting a solid .773 on 78 hits and scoring 52 runs. A little perspective. That's #3 in average, #8 in hits and #4 in runs scored! That is quite simply, fantastic. A season that anyone would be proud of. He had trained so hard for that season, doing workouts with Hugh Armstrong and taking daily batting practice with Rob Farah. He even brought in noted coach Patches O'Houlihan, who is of course, famous for the motto, "if you can hit a wrench; you can hit a ball."
A lot of people would have been happy with the fruits of their labour and the reward of not just having not just a great year, but a career best season. But a lot of people aren't The Trappist. Nope. In fact, he was pretty pissed-off. Being one of the most feared hitters in the league just wasn't enough for him. He had to be THE most feared hitter. Period & end of friggin' story.
He was off the radar through the winter of 2015 and into the spring of 2016. No leaked rumours of training. No clandestine pitching sessions. No wrenches. Then came the draft. And what did we notice when Emeil showed up for draft day (April 9th, 2016)? Well, The Trappist was BIG! In just a few short months he was noticeably larger. At first I thought, maybe, it was just the visible acne, but no ... I was pretty sure that he was decidedly bigger. And, if I may say so, he was paranoid as shit! I couldn't believe it! Here's a perfectly innocent encounter while waiting in the bar line at the Legion on draft day 2016.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Hey man, how's it going?
The Trappist: Fine. You?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Alright, no complaints. How was your winter?
The Trappist: What's that supposed to mean?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Mean??? Nothing man. How was your winter .... literally means, 'how-was-your-winter'. That's all.
The Trappist: Sounds like your prying to me.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Okay, fine. I was just trying to make small talk.
The Trappist: Small talk is for small people. I don't have time for that.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Wow. Nice chatting.
The Trappist: I would say likewise, but I'd be lying.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Holy shit, Emeil, what's gotten into you?
The Trappist: Not steroids if that's what your implying.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: What?
The Trappist: I see you looking at my behemoth arms.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Wasn't.
The Trappist: Yep you were looking. And I know what you're thinking.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Nope. I really never looked at your arms.
The Trappist: You're thinking, "how did he get so massive and ripped in such a short time?" aren't you?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Okay, I'm looking at your arms now, but only because you brought them up again, for a third time, but they really aren't that much to write home about.
The Trappist: Do you know what jealous means?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: What? Jealous? Ya man ... everyone knows what jealous means. Are you alright?
The Trappist: Never better.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: So why are you freaking out?
The Trappist: Because you're jealous of my muscles.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: I'm really not.
The Trappist: I can read you like a book on tape. And not some political autobiographical bullshit either, more like the Bourne Identity read by Don Booth for 17 hours.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Dude, I'm just in line to get a beer.
The Trappist: Can I help it I had to buy shirts with extra room in the arms, because I'm so ridiculously cut?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: I don't know, I really don't see much of a difference.
The Trappist: Can I help it if developed late?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: I don't .... wait .... developed late? You're what? 48? Are you claiming that you just hit a growth spurt?
The Trappist: Ya, very common for the Edwards side of my family.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Right.
The Trappist: Look at my cousin, Donnie Edwards. He was a goalie for the Buffalo Sabers from 1976-1982 and went 156 and 83.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Good record.
The Trappist: Ya. Then he hit his growth spurt and he was too tall and ripped to have those cat like reflexes anymore, so they traded him to Calgary.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Calgary?
The Trappist: Fucking Calgary.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: How'd that go?
The Trappist: 52 and 72 to finish what should have been a hall of fame career.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Okay, so this barely noticeable bulk ...
The Trappist: .....Muscle....
Matt Fricken' Saunders: ....whatever it is, is simply a 'growth spurt' and you've done nothing different in the off season.
The Trappist: Woke up, had breakfast, went to work, came home, had dinner and went to bed. Repeat.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: No changes to your workout routine?
The Trappist: Cut it back, anything. And why are grilling me?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: It was my first question and you're the one that won't get off the topic. 2nd question, any change to your diet?
The Trappist: Just an herbal tea that I got online, I drink it morning and night religiously.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Oh? Where's it from? What properties does it have?
The Trappist: I was watching some infomercial in the middle of the night and the were selling this tea product from the small African island of Bolivia ....
Matt Fricken' Saunders: .... not an island ....
The Trappist: ... and the natives there dive among the coral ....
Matt Fricken' Saunders: .... also not African and I'm pretty sure that Bolivia is land-locked ...
The Trappist: .... and they bring up this kelp that they dry and make into tea.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: What's it called?
The Trappist: Androteadione.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Andro .... tea .... dione.
The Trappist: Ya, why?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Good luck in the draft.
The Trappist: Hey where are you going?
The Trappist: Hey, you didn't even order your beer!
The Trappist: Are you still looking at my arms!!!
The Trappist: Fucking Calgary.
Next week:
My job is not to spoon feed you. No, it's to give you enough crap to absorb that you can make up your own lies for yourselves.
And here is what we know so far ....
As usual, it's always the innocent looking ones that escape our scrutiny. But when things unravel, they unravel FAST. Unfortunately, with speed comes volume and I'm afraid that this story will be a multi-part endeavor.
Everyone knows Double "E", Emeil Edwards. His bouts of berating umpires, executives and captains are well documented. His intolerance of other players that don't play to his level are regarded as 'motivation' by some, but borderline bullying to others. His utter contempt for outfielders that refuse to dive for each and every ball has become the stuff of legend.
Probably the most disturbing part is the diving. We've all seen players make spectacular plays as they seemingly defy gravity and fly gracefully through the air. Sometimes they get the ball, and other times, just the effort of the attempt is a thing of beauty. Double "E" has no patience or admiration for the attempt. Nor does he have anytime in his day for a conventional catch. Emeil quite literally insists that every outfielder dive on every single fly ball. I've seen balls hit directly to him, that he'll back up 10 steps on, just so he can take a run at it and dive at the end.
Fucking hero complex.
It's hard to say where this all stems from. Some say that Emeil was so pissed off with Scott Barton winning all the batting championships that he decided that he'd make his name defensively. Possibly. Some say that the genesis was local noted tough guy Darryl Gaudet stretching out his glove which Emeil had been left behind after t-ball practice. Emeil still uses that glove to this day, and still hasn't fully grown into it.
From an outsider looking in, it seems to me that Emeil's spiral into the darker recesses of the game, coincided with Edwin Encarnacion appropriating his nickname of Double "E". I'm old enough to remember when Dominican's used to be monks, it's sad to see them now just whimsically stealing nicknames from guys in beer leagues. Ironically, (actually, this one is truly ironic and not just coincidental), Emeil should have shrugged off losing the Double "E" moniker to Edwin and stolen another monk's name - The Trappists. It only stands to reason, as Emeil hasn't made a legitimate catch in his life.
In fact, I think as a tribute, I'll call him The Trappist for the remainder of this BLOG.
It's a trap!(pist)
But while we may be talking about small character flaws, and he is quite a character, none of this is "cheating" per se.
Until it is, of course.
In 2015 The Trappist put together the best year of his career. Hitting a solid .773 on 78 hits and scoring 52 runs. A little perspective. That's #3 in average, #8 in hits and #4 in runs scored! That is quite simply, fantastic. A season that anyone would be proud of. He had trained so hard for that season, doing workouts with Hugh Armstrong and taking daily batting practice with Rob Farah. He even brought in noted coach Patches O'Houlihan, who is of course, famous for the motto, "if you can hit a wrench; you can hit a ball."
A lot of people would have been happy with the fruits of their labour and the reward of not just having not just a great year, but a career best season. But a lot of people aren't The Trappist. Nope. In fact, he was pretty pissed-off. Being one of the most feared hitters in the league just wasn't enough for him. He had to be THE most feared hitter. Period & end of friggin' story.
He was off the radar through the winter of 2015 and into the spring of 2016. No leaked rumours of training. No clandestine pitching sessions. No wrenches. Then came the draft. And what did we notice when Emeil showed up for draft day (April 9th, 2016)? Well, The Trappist was BIG! In just a few short months he was noticeably larger. At first I thought, maybe, it was just the visible acne, but no ... I was pretty sure that he was decidedly bigger. And, if I may say so, he was paranoid as shit! I couldn't believe it! Here's a perfectly innocent encounter while waiting in the bar line at the Legion on draft day 2016.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Hey man, how's it going?
The Trappist: Fine. You?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Alright, no complaints. How was your winter?
The Trappist: What's that supposed to mean?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Mean??? Nothing man. How was your winter .... literally means, 'how-was-your-winter'. That's all.
The Trappist: Sounds like your prying to me.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Okay, fine. I was just trying to make small talk.
The Trappist: Small talk is for small people. I don't have time for that.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Wow. Nice chatting.
The Trappist: I would say likewise, but I'd be lying.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Holy shit, Emeil, what's gotten into you?
The Trappist: Not steroids if that's what your implying.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: What?
The Trappist: I see you looking at my behemoth arms.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Wasn't.
The Trappist: Yep you were looking. And I know what you're thinking.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Nope. I really never looked at your arms.
The Trappist: You're thinking, "how did he get so massive and ripped in such a short time?" aren't you?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Okay, I'm looking at your arms now, but only because you brought them up again, for a third time, but they really aren't that much to write home about.
The Trappist: Do you know what jealous means?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: What? Jealous? Ya man ... everyone knows what jealous means. Are you alright?
The Trappist: Never better.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: So why are you freaking out?
The Trappist: Because you're jealous of my muscles.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: I'm really not.
The Trappist: I can read you like a book on tape. And not some political autobiographical bullshit either, more like the Bourne Identity read by Don Booth for 17 hours.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Dude, I'm just in line to get a beer.
The Trappist: Can I help it I had to buy shirts with extra room in the arms, because I'm so ridiculously cut?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: I don't know, I really don't see much of a difference.
The Trappist: Can I help it if developed late?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: I don't .... wait .... developed late? You're what? 48? Are you claiming that you just hit a growth spurt?
The Trappist: Ya, very common for the Edwards side of my family.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Right.
The Trappist: Look at my cousin, Donnie Edwards. He was a goalie for the Buffalo Sabers from 1976-1982 and went 156 and 83.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Good record.
The Trappist: Ya. Then he hit his growth spurt and he was too tall and ripped to have those cat like reflexes anymore, so they traded him to Calgary.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Calgary?
The Trappist: Fucking Calgary.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: How'd that go?
The Trappist: 52 and 72 to finish what should have been a hall of fame career.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Okay, so this barely noticeable bulk ...
The Trappist: .....Muscle....
Matt Fricken' Saunders: ....whatever it is, is simply a 'growth spurt' and you've done nothing different in the off season.
The Trappist: Woke up, had breakfast, went to work, came home, had dinner and went to bed. Repeat.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: No changes to your workout routine?
The Trappist: Cut it back, anything. And why are grilling me?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: It was my first question and you're the one that won't get off the topic. 2nd question, any change to your diet?
The Trappist: Just an herbal tea that I got online, I drink it morning and night religiously.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Oh? Where's it from? What properties does it have?
The Trappist: I was watching some infomercial in the middle of the night and the were selling this tea product from the small African island of Bolivia ....
Matt Fricken' Saunders: .... not an island ....
The Trappist: ... and the natives there dive among the coral ....
Matt Fricken' Saunders: .... also not African and I'm pretty sure that Bolivia is land-locked ...
The Trappist: .... and they bring up this kelp that they dry and make into tea.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: What's it called?
The Trappist: Androteadione.
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Andro .... tea .... dione.
The Trappist: Ya, why?
Matt Fricken' Saunders: Good luck in the draft.
The Trappist: Hey where are you going?
The Trappist: Hey, you didn't even order your beer!
The Trappist: Are you still looking at my arms!!!
The Trappist: Fucking Calgary.
Next week:
- How did Emeil Edwards aka, Double "E", aka The Trappist's, new found strength translate into the 2016 season?
- Did the league bury The Trappist's indiscretions when they brought in the anti-doping rules to the constitution? If so, what did the league President know and when?
- Did Geoff Keogh blow the lid off everything when he started a twitter feud in 2018?
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