MB here. I can't tell you how happy I am be to be in this city. There were no black people in Texas, man. Seriously, cracker central. Now, I know that some of you may be a little scared to see me here. You've probably heard all the rumors and bullshit about my temper. That's why I'm here, man. I want to dispel some of the salacious attacks against my person.
1. The Bottle
Man, I wasn't upset that the fan threw a bottle at me. I was just pissed that it wasn't a plastic beer bottle. Who the fuck throws a water bottle? A real sports fan throws a beer. Cheap bitch. Throw a motherfucking bottle at me, I bust you one in the-whoo, sorry. Calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean.
2. The Balls on the Field
I was seriously just trying to help the umps out. You know how they've got those little ball pouches around their fat waists, yet they're always running out of balls and the ball boys have to run back and forth all the time. I was just cutting out the middleman, making sure the umps had plenty of balls. Damn sure they don't have any between their legs, blind cocksuckers. Tell me what's a strike, you no-good jerkoff, I'll cut you-hey now, wow. Deep breath, MB. Just chill, man. I'm an Eskimo in an igloo baby. It's all good.
3. Jeff Kent
I don't understand this one. I called Jeff Kent a racist. So what? Jeff Kent is a racist. He's such a cracker there's a picture of him on the saltines box. He's the head cracker. He's also a dick with feet. Fuck Jeff Kent.
4. How I Tore My ACL
This was pretty stupid, I'll even admit. I got hurt trying to twist away from my own coach. But both me and Meachem heard that umpire call me a "fucking piece of shit". Todd Helton heard it, too. 'Interesting' my black ass. Winters is lucky I didn't get a hold of him back then. I'd have twisted his head off his fat fucking neck and shat in it. But not anymore. I'm rehabilitated. That shit just slides off me now. Sonofabitch. I missed playing time thanks to you, dickweed. How'd you like it if I poke your eyes out, take away your livelihood for a while, bitch? That's ain't how you talk to a man on the field, you worthless-easy, MB, easy. It ain't worth it. Sticks and stones, brother, sticks and stones.
5. My Run In With Ryan Lefebvre
Who really gives a crap what I did to some announcer? In Kansas City? Thanks for comparing me unfavorably to some guy who did crack. Man, I just get angry. You'd be angry too if your parents had named you after a damn board game. All growing up, motherfuckers coming up to me: 'Hey, Pictionary' or 'What up, Monopoly? Sorry, Parker Brothers, I guess you failed the Game of Life. You sank my Battleship, Connect Four.' You try dealing with that shit and see if you end up normal.
I just want to reassure the city of Chicago and Cub fans everywhere that all this acting up is behind me. My behavior has been improper and I accept the consequences. I ask my fellow ballplayers and the fans for their patience and understanding. Life here can be difficult for me, but I promise to be reasonable and use good judgment. I have served my time in anger management treatment. You deserve better from me. I can be better. I will be better. Who said 'Mousetrap'?! I will bust my foot off in your ass!
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