Out having a few beers with my co-workers last Friday, I had one of the more random Atlanta celebrity sighting's in recent memory. John Rocker. The only one that tops him is seeing Kordell Stewart in the Disco Kroger parking lot.
Kordell Stewart hanging out in Atlanta, by the way, is not going to do alot to assuage the persistent rumors that he's gay. Right, the hip hop scene. Sure, Kordell.
Back to Rocker. I won't lie, back in the day, I loved this guy. He was the loud mouth redneck that many Atlanta fans have been longing for. Seriously, we've never really had that guy who was unequivocally loved by his own fans, and hated by every one else. Not only that - as a closer, all the dude did was strike people out. The only game-ender as good as a walk-off homerun is a flamethrowing closer doing his thing. Add the twitchy insanity of Rocker, and it made Braves games of 1999-2001 a blast.
I even cut the guy a break after the infamous Sports Illustrated article, which caused him to be permanently labelled an intolerant racist. I always felt that he said things alot of people think, and if a New York player had said it, it would have been okay. Again, though, the national sports media felt it necessary to show their indignance for this backward Southern boy because he went after their Mecca, New York City.
It always seems to be neglected that his best friends on the Braves were Bruce Chen, a Panamanian Asian, and Andruw Jones, a Curacaoan of African decent.
Of course, this article seemed to spell the downfall for Rocker. After the subsequent suspension by Major League Baseball, he never seemed to have the same edge as before. In the mental game of being a closer, he had finally psyched himself out.
This article also seemed to make it a requirement to include this sentence in any story about John Rocker:
"Rocker, who gained infamy for his insensitve comments towards gays, foreigners, and African-Americans in a 1999 Sports Illustrated article..."
After many failed attempts to revive his lagging career, he's now retired from baseball. Even worse, he's become this guy:
What the Hell? Where's the camouflage hat with a fish-hook in it? Where are the Carhartt pants? I couldn't believe it. The guy looked like he had just come from a beauty salon, and his cashmire sweater was showing enough man-cleavage to make even Fabio cringe! What a douchebag. His outfit was beginning to make me wonder if I should be more concerned about him than about Kordell.
I have to feel for the guy, though, and for many of the Good Ol' Boys who find themselves in Atlanta. Deep down inside, he probably wants to stay true to his Macon roots...but he also wants to hook up with the high-maintenance Buckhead hotties who think the woman from Sex And The City are just like their group of friends! His cash probably helps - but unfortunately, you've also got to Metro it up a bit if you want to go for the kill shot.
While we are on the subject of these types of girls, I have one thing I have to say. A real martini is olives, vermouth, and either gin or vodka! Just because it comes in a martini glass doesn't make it a martini! They can serve Manhattan's in those, too, but you don't here anyone calling it a Manhattan-tini! Man, I hate what that stupid show has done to the women of America.