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“Since I’m hopelessly out of the money and I was done trading well before Easter this year,” observed the ever-spiritual Jeffrey Winick, “I’ve had ample time to catch some solid cable TV shows, especially on the National Geographic channel, which features several scantily clad native women…but I’ve also caught a series featuring a young Hispanic gentleman who has an uncanny ability to tame and control the wildest, most disciplined canines imaginable….
“His nickname, of course, is the Dog Whisperer (named after the Robert Redford vehicle featuring a horse for those of you who don’t get out to the movies much or, like Buddha, restrict your viewing to John Wayne’s The Green Berets)…and after reviewing the hot wax seal announcement that heralded the latest trade between Mark and Doug, I have concluded with a reasonable degree of roto certainty that Doug has a similar ability to control Mark’s behavior: and as I reflect on this I realize that as recently as the draft I saw Mark fetch Doug a towel, a blankie and a pail…there was even a quiet interlude when Mark let Doug scratch him on the tummy. So Doug Shabelman, unlike any other owner in the history of the USML, has found a way to control the unruly Mark Blocker. For positive reinforcement of his respectful behavior, Doug tosses him ‘treats’ –also known as ‘keepers’ in the parlance of our league– young players with nice contracts that enable Mark to have ample funds to buy established stars at the next draft, which he in turn trades to Doug later in the year for more ‘treats’–no wonder Mark can sit through the draft without needing to take a walk outside–he’s very well trained!
“In any event, it’s apparent that teams like the Nukes, Klein-9 and Red Hots better start whispering, too, or they soon will join the bottom-feeders like the Rips and Berliners…at least we bark at everybody…and play dead for everyone, too!”
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Apropos of absolutely nothing:
The original horse whisperer was a Southern California thoroughbred trainer named Monty Roberts. He based his techniques for breaking and training young horses on ancient Native American methods. His son, Marty, was a college classmate and wrestling teammate of mine (and also a pretty good high school rodeo cowboy–actually a varsity sport in the part of the country).
Mark
P.S. Brad: Time to give the Shabes voodoo doll another poke. Nobody seems to want Joe Crede at $7, so I may have to go with what I’ve got.
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