In my many years of following baseball, there have been few pitchers that have possessed the amazing ability to scare me silly when they have been put in the game.
Wakefield's appearance during the 2004 ALCS with Veritek behind the plate scared me.
Any appearance by Eric Gagne while he was with the Boston Red Sox during the 2007 season scared me.
Rick Ankiel's appearances during the 2000 playoffs scared both me and the batters.
Any start by a man with the first name of Boof makes me skeptical these days.
Most recently, however, I find myself with an uncontrollable urge to vomit every time Jesse Crain steps on the mound for the Minnesota Twins. Talk about magicians—this guy has the uncanny ability to find new and interesting ways to lose ballgames in front of my very eyes.
Now, I know that Ron Gardenhire may not be blessed with the gift of "all-knowing prophecy", but you would figure that sooner or later he would wise up and just sign me up to pitch for him instead.
Think about it. Jesse Crain makes just over a MILLION dollars per year to lose close ballgames, and I would gladly do the same for a clean uniform and an old ham sandwich every couple of days. I assure you all that I would be more then capable of giving up 17 hits, nine runs, and seven walks over the course of a measly 13 innings of work from the setup position—and best of all, I wouldn't get anybody's hopes up for success.
Jesse Crain is simply nothing more then a double agent in disguise this year. My assumption is that Twins critics (after glimpsing the team's recent success) finally banded together and used their collective allowance money to bribe Crain into serving up his trademark "meatballs" whenever the Twins are on the brink of victory.
In conclusion, I will gladly accept any forthcoming offers from the Twins organization to join the ranks and help out the bullpen. My fastball clocks out in the low 70s, and my 55 mph knuckleball may be enough to keep some hitters off balance enough to perform up to the prestigious rank of Twins setup man.
I'll even agree to throw an occasional eephus pitch if I get No. 49 on my uniform...