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Thursday, May 6


Love and angst at the Water Tower Westin

Late last night, or early this morning, in a room high up on the towering Westin Hotel, overlooking the Magnificent Mile and the shores of Lake Michigan, an obvious-looking amazon blonde lay in a bed, her legs pulled up so her knees almost fit in her armpits. A tall man rose above her, sweating, exhaling profusely, pumping like a West Texas wildcat derrick. A sharp pain stuck up from the small of her back, and she wondered if it was indicative of a lingering condition that would be a detriment to her work. She hoped it would be over soon. She has been there before.

The man, furiously working, pushing desperately against the warm flesh of his lover, panted out in cadence to his thrusts, "Tell me...I'm a...winner!"

"You're a winner!"

"Tell me again, I'm a winner!"

"You're a winner, baby..."

"Tell me, Jen..."

"You're a winner, Casey. You're a winner!"

Soon after, both lovers lying in tangled sheets, trading pulls off of the liter bottle of Evian thoughtfully provided by the hotel staff, she wonders out loud, "Is it going to be like this every time?"

"Oh yeah, bay-bee!" exclaims the exhausted young matador.

She is suddenly stuck with waves of panic and dread. The human body was not constructed to withstand such abuse doled out by such a physical specimen, a legit 6'4", 220 pounds of carved rock sinew. She herself was in top physical condition, of course. Her lifestyle and regimen demanded it. But this was not the way she wanted it to be. It was time to act.

"I'm so happy for you," gushed the blonde, "but remember, I know a little bit about this, myself, you know. It isn't always going to be this easy. I mean, the Oregon State JV I no-hit my freshman year showed more plate discipline than those guys did tonight."

"Honey, this is my first big-league win. This is just the start of things to come. I had electric stuff tonight, and there's no reason why I can't do this again my next start, and the next, and the one after that..."

She smiled to herself at her immorata's wide-eyed naivete. "I hope so honey. We talked about this, you know? This year is going to be my one big shot at the money, after the Olympics, and maybe a year or two of pro ball. Then, I'll probably start having babies, and....you gotta be the one, Casey. You have the better long-term outlook. It isn't fair, and I wish I could help, but..."

"Don't worry, babe," he reassured her. I told you I was can't miss, and I won't. I'm in the Show now, and at the least, I'll get two turns a year against those bums."

Then he got a bright idea. "Maybe I can get traded, to Pittsburgh, and I can face them 5 times a year!"

"Pittsburgh?" The California blond was NOT feeling that.

"Or Cincinnatti...St. Louis? Houston? Any of those float your boat?"

"Do they have beaches in Houston?", wondered Jennie Finch, ESPN's 2003 Woman of the Year.

"I think so, sweetie," confirmed Casey Daigle, the geographically challenged winner of last night's 2-0 bitch-slap over our beloved Chicago Cubs.

"Then that would be ok.", she said, before turning over and falling asleep.

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