As there has been little to report of late, I figured it was time to give our good friend Brian Cashman a call. He's always excited to hear from us and we appreciate him answering our questions. Below is the transcript of our conversation:
RJG: What's up Bronny? How's the team looking?
BC: I'm happy with where we are at this point in the spring.
RJG: Great non answer. So . . . not much going on right now . . .
BC: I would disagree. The guys played catch, they did fielding drills, they played pool. Just the other day I walked into the clubhouse and one of the guys was shaving. Shaving! I tell you it never stops.
RJG: Good lord Bronny, are you on acid? How is any of that even mildly exciting. Observing the comatose is more interesting than that.
BC: What do you want me to do? It's week three of spring training. We haven't even played a game yet.
RJG: Uh-huh. Yeah. So Bronny, I know you're still really mad at A-Rod on account of you're petty like that, Tom Petty, that's your new nickname. But tell me why you hate him so much more than Giambi, or Pettitte, or the 103 other players on the list? Is it because he's good-looking? Bi-racial? Did you have a giant crush on Madonna or something?
BC: [Yelling] Don't you ever say her name! I loved her! We could've been so happy. [Seething] But he ruined it! He defiled an unblemished flower. He'll pay for this!
RJG: Unblemished? Are we referring to the same pers. . .
BC: How dare you, sir? I challenge you to a duel!
RJG: You're letting that ninja costume go to your head, Bronny. I'd punch you right in the face and you'd just cry about Madonna, wouldn't you?
BC: I'm sure I'd get into a defensive fetal position first. That's how I roll.
RJG: Did you do your taxes yet?
BC: No, I don't pay taxes. I hide my income through a series of untraceable off-shore accounts and Bermuda based limited liability corporations. In fact, legally speaking, I don't exist.
RJG: Damn! That's gangster!
BC: That's right [expletive]
There you have it folks. Brian Cashman doesn't exist anymore, and he has a very, very strange perception of Madonna. Seacrest out.
[We have just been sued by Ryan Seacrest Incorporated. Seacrest out.]