OK, firstly, this isn’t going to be a ballad. I don’t like ballads. They always remind me of the 2nd album that an 80′s hair band would release. “Hey guys, you’re rockin’ album was great, but for your next one, can you throw in a slow song that might be appealing to the junior high dance crowd?”
Blech.
It’s a story. But “The Story of Nick Swisher” doesn’t have as much of a ring to it so I did what I did. Anyway, here it is.
Anyone who knows me of late knows that over the past few years I’ve become a NY Yankees baseball fan. I know I’m not from New York and I know the Nationals and the Orioles are close by. But the Nationals are horrible and the Orioles have issues… and just aren’t appealing generally. The Yankees put on a good show.
This is about as serious as Nick Swisher gets.
Anyway, anyone who has paid attention to my clothing knows that I often wear a NY jersey around sporting the number 33 on the back. That is the number of Nick Swisher, the right fielder for the Yankees and my current favorite player in Major League Baseball. He is not the best player in the game, but he is a nut. He is funny, energetic, and always bouncing around. He reminds me of a little kid who’s had too much sugar and can’t handle the overload. He really cracks me up. He just seems like one of those guys who always enjoys the fact that he gets paid millions of dollars to play a game and doesn’t take it or the fans for granted. He’s really just funny to watch.
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