You all know I’ve been trying to bring in a few new writers to the blog lately. Well, I’m pleased to tell you that we’ve managed to secure a special guest author who will be giving us an “outside” view of the Giants this season. Please welcome baseball legend (not) Tommy Lasorda to our humble blog! -JDR
You may find it crazy that a man such as myself is writing posts for this site, but as MLB’s Goodwill Ambassador I’ve taken it upon myself to reach out to all fans, including you SF Giants supporters.
Besides, it’s not like I don’t have some fond memories of San Francisco. A lot of people think I hated coming to Candlestick and accuse me of booking it out of Candlestick the second I finished my fifth plate of post-game cold-cuts. But nothing could be farther from the truth.
In reality, I love this city. Chimichangas in the Mission? Hell, I’d have the cabby stop off on the way in from the airport and fill up a trash bag. Tadich Grill? They knew to fire up the veal-stuffed pork chops by the sixth inning.
And North Beach. Lord knows how much I loved North Beach. Remember the Joe Morgan game back in 1982? Lowest point of my career. I could hardly talk after that game. So afterwords, me and the great Vin Scully are out at Joe DiMaggio’s over on the wharf, and Vin is going on and on about the call girls in Acapulco or some shit, and I tell you, I can barely even take my eyes up off the floor I was so low.
So the bartender comes up to me and says “rough game, Tommy. Next one’s on the house. What’ll it be?” And I knew at that point there was only one thing that could get me through the night.
So I look up to the bartender, Tony was his name, and I says “Tony, get me a nice tall glass of scotch and rendered hog fat.” And you know what? Not only did he make me the best damn glass of scotch and hog fat I’ve ever had, and I’ve had them all over mind you, but that son of a bitch even named the drink after me. The Lasorda-tini! They served that damn drink for three weeks before the health department threatened to shut them down.
Man, I really miss those days. Back when ballplayers were ballplayers and any cook worth his salt knew you had to cook one type of animal in the grease of another animal. You can say what you want about these modern players, but I’ll take the guys from the old days in a heartbeat.