NEW YORK, NY—For those of you who missed it, this past weekend the Mets traded backup catcher Ramon Castro to the Chicago White Sox. This deal was made primarily because the Mets could no longer afford to pay for Castro’s custom-made quadruple extra large batting helmets as well as the oversized shower heads and water bill associated with washing his gargantuan cranium. However, lost in the media frenzy that was the Castro trade was the man they received back from the Pale Hose. And that man’s name is Lance Broadway. You heard me right. Lance Broadway. You got a problem with that buddy? Because if you do, Mr. Lance Broadway will take you down to the Great White Way and explain things to you. A product of Grand Prairie High School as well as the God- and Lance-fearing Dallas Baptist and Texas Christian Universities, it was Lance Broadway’s right-handed pitching presence that first prompted Lone Star Staters to brag “Don’t Mess with Texas.†Nobody, and I mean nobody, messes with Lance Broadway. The one and only Chuck Norris once said of LB (as only his closest and toughest associates call him), “The guy scares me sh**less.†And the man who played Lone Wolf McQuade ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie. If you want a fist in your face, fastball in your ear, or some decent theater tickets, Lance Broadway is your man. You think I’m kidding? Just try pushing your luck with Lance Broadway and see where that gets you… either the morgue, or worse, in line at TKTS in Times Square. You get on the wrong side of Lance Broadway and you can say goodbye to your teeth as well as any chance of landing a nice table at Sardi’s. In fact, the main reason Lance got his ticket punched out of Chicago is that he tossed Brian Urlacher through a plate glass window when the burly Bears middle linebacker failed to turn his cell phone off during a Steppenwolf Theater production of “American Buffalo.†Speaking of Buffalo, you might be asking yourself, “If this guy is so great then why did the Mets assign him to Triple A Buffalo?” The answer is simple: Manuel, Minaya, and the rest of the masterminds in the Mets front office want to drive Lance Broadway out of his psychotic-yet-sensitive mind by relegating him to Western New York (no offense buffalobilly84) where the spotlight shines just a few watts dimmer than what Lance Broadway is used to. Soon enough the Mets will deport Tim Redding, Sean Green, or some other bit player to the Summer Stock League where Lance Broadway is now toiling: no doubt, a seething cauldron of rage like Eugene O’Neill’s Hairy Ape. But, make no mistake, Mr. Lance Broadway was made for the big city. He needs no understudies, accolades, or intermissions; he just needs the damn ball, a two-bit catcher, and a slightly-obstructed stage known as Citi Field. So let’s get Lance Broadway to New York City where he belongs, and Playbill!… er… I mean, Play Ball!
