You guys? I don’t mean to alarm anyone, but I’m pretty sure J.D. Drew has been bitten by a radioactive spider.
I mean, I really can’t think of another explanation since his ridiculous stats and hitting prowess since Ortiz went on the DL are pretty much straight up science fiction shit. Even his “patch of suck” in right field has cleared up. (No lie, there was a dead, brown patch of grass out there where he used to stand). He hasn’t even missed any time lately with the menses. We’ve even stopped calling him “Jessica.”
So, you know…what? What is happening here?
“Too bad he couldn’t do that last year,” my mom said when I expressed my confusion at his performance.
“Well, I guess,” I said, “But I mean, it’s not like we could have won the World Series more if he’d been hitting better. I guess I’m just confused by the turnaround.”
“It is quite a marked difference,” she agreed. (My mom pretends not to follow baseball).
“Maybe he really is a superhero and he saw Papi go down and was all, ‘I’m needed!’ and then put on his super hero cape and started playing like Spiderman.”
“Okaaaaay,” she said. And then laughed nervously.
I don’t know. Maybe that is what happened. Maybe he’s actually an X-Man. Maybe he saw the new Hulk movie or something and decided to start playing angry. Or maybe he was hanging out with Tek and Lowell one day (’cause those guys are obviously super heroes. I mean, that’s just general knowledge, right?) and they let him in on their super heroe-y ways. Showed him the magical phone booth or something.
All I know is that while at Fenway last week, Drew cracked a base hit, plating a couple of runs and inspired the following conversation between myself and a woman I’d never met before.
Me (turning to complete stranger): Seriously, what is up with that dude all of a sudden?
Stranger: I think his wife’s been putting out more.
And he hasn’t tailed off since.
You guys, I haven’t even moved the bobblehead from it’s place on the bookshelf or anything. At this point, I’m kind of afraid to.