The name’s Seamus Headley. I’m the maintenance man around here, which is just a fancy term for janitor. Most people in this place call me “Sammy,” which makes enough sense, I suppose. A few of the patients call me “dummy,” and I’d like to smack them upside their crazy-ass heads but then I’d blow my cover.
I’m supposed to be acting deaf and dumb, and if I hauled off on one of these nutcakes, everyone would know I’m not who I’m pretending to be. But for now, I’ve got ‘em all bamboozled, especially the docs, who nodded their approval when I grabbed a broom on my first day here and started aimlessly sweeping the place up like that big dumb Indian in that movie that came out 35 or so years ago about all the kooks in the kookhouse and that cold-as-ice bitch nurse that the guy from Easy Rider almost choked the life out of. It’s funny; I can’t remember the name of a picture that came out in 1975, but I can remember one from ’69. In fact, I don’t remember much after ‘69.
Anyway, I’ve been sweeping ever since I got here, but I’ve also been observing. You see, I’m actually an undercover agent working for the Coalition of Men in Black or C.O.M.B. for short. C.O.M.B. sent me here to keep an eye on that lunatic Gip and make sure he’s doing what he’s told. I’m also supposed to be keeping him out of trouble, what with all these wackos running around trying to steal his shiny dice.
Yep, after the beating he took from Philly Mikey that night, Patriot Act, Inc. contracted out C.O.M.B., who put me on the case. I just need to get close enough to keep track of his dice rolls so I can report my findings and make sure everything’s on the up and up. It shouldn’t be a problem, though; I’ll just toss some dirt on the floor by his little table while he’s not looking, then wait until he starts throwing the cubes before I mosey on over and start sweeping. He won’t even bat an eye; he thinks I’m as crazy as the rest of these loons, and dumb to boot. I just hope nobody tosses a no-no or something or I won’t be able to contain myself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, one of these yo-yos just yakked all over my spotless floor and I gotta go clean it up. Damn, sometimes I really hate this job—
Wait a second. What’s this? Some kind of spiral notebook here sticking out of Gip’s mattress. Let’s see if I can grab it without waking the sucker up…
Holy Hannah’s Ghost. They’re his scoresheets! Let’s see what happened on the American League side of old Gip’s brain today…
WHITE SOX 12-17-1, at RED SOX 5-10-0
Nothing but a big Chicago party puts an end to the Boston 7-game win streak. Mike Paxton wishes he was never born by the 4th inning, at which time it’s already 8-0 thanks to some Zisk and Lemon ball removing. Rick Wise comes for a few innings of calm, then gets in trouble, Ramon Hernandez replaces him and Jim Spencer puts his first pitch in the bullpen. Boston scores three in the 9th, mainly because Ken Kravec gets bored and lazy.
W-Kravec L-Paxton HRS: Zisk, Spencer, Scott GWRBI-Zisk
RANGERS 6-12-0, at YANKEES 4-9-0
Billy Martin’s going to kill somebody in a bar soon. Torrez has Gaylord Perry down 3-0 after five, then 3-1 after seven, then Sparky Lyle relieves when he gets tired in the 8th and has absolutely nothing, giving up three singles and a walk and two runs to tie the game, then serving up a 3-run ICBM to Kurt Bevacqua in the top of the 9th. That’s Kurt Bevacqua.
W-Perry L-Lyle HRS: Nettles, Bevacqua GWRBI-Bevacqua
ROYALS 5-8-1, at ORIOLES 1-6-0
No one’s got more of an injury problem than the Birds. It’s amazing they’re still close to the top. DeCinces joins Kelly and Maddox on the 5-game DL and it’s 1-1 into the 6th when doubles by Cowens and McRae give K.C. the lead. Blasts by Mayberry and Otis late in the game ice all suspense from there.
W-Colborn L-May HRS: Mayberry, Otis GWRBI-McRae
at INDIANS 7-12-0, TWINS 6-11-0
Game of the Day for sure, but they don’t pay me enough to write long-ass essays on this stuff, so you’ll have to make do, people. Three-run Hisle bomb in the 1st. 5-1 Twins in the 3rd but Geoff Zahn can’t get anybody out, gives up four hits and a hit Thornton and it’s 5-4 just like that. Carew homer off Hood makes it 6-4 but Duffy’s 2-run poke in the 8th ties it. Here comes Andre the Pissed-off Giant in the 9th, still sore from getting plunked before. And plunk this. Way, way into the bleachers off Gary Serum, and the dream of a 4-game Minnesota win streak is history.
W-Hood L-Serum HRS: Hisle, Carew, Duffy, Thornton GWRBI-Thornton
American League through Wednesday, April 30