Happy Birthday Lou Merloni!

Jim Corsi from Newton, MA was a 27-year old second year player for Oakland in 1989 who had the world in his hands, a fine mullet on his head and lots of money in his bank account. That off-season he decided to spend remaining in the Oakland area. One October night he met some Stanford coeds at a local bar and they invited him and Mike Gallego back to their off campus apartment for some afterhour drinks. Well even though Corsi is a good sized guy he can't handle his liquor and once he got back to their place it became apparent that Corsi was too drunk to even talk. The cost of real-estate around Stanford meant that there wasn't really anywhere for the drunk Corsi to crash so he went into the second floor bathroom to sleep in the bathtub.

Corsi started off lying on his back but sometime during the night - Corsi crawled up into a fetal position. In the morning when he awoke - he realized that his big frame was now stuck inside the tub. Corsi started to panic and scream. Gallego and a couple of the girls came running because they heard the blood curdling screams. Corsi insisted that they not call the police or fire department. So it was up to Gallego and the girls to get him free.

Gallego thought vaseline would do the trick to loosen Corsi up enough to get free but the girls didn't have any vaseline. They did have KY Jelly and that was rubbed onto any area the girls could reach (one of the girls was an Asian with tiny hands). However, there wasn't enough KY to do the job. Thinking about other lubricants - one of the girls suggested liquid dishwasher detergent which they had plenty of (they had a 2-liter bottle of cheapo detergent in the kitchen). That was poured all over Corsi and the combination of KY and liquid dishwasher detergent did the trick and he was able to wiggle free.

Corsi took a cab home but while in the cab he noticed that his skin was starting to get red and itchy. As soon as he got home - Corsi went into the shower but while showering he noticed that his hair was starting to fall out. The next day he put on a hat went to the doctor and the doctor told him that his body was having some sort of chemical reaction to the combined chemicals from the KY and detergent that was causing any area that was exposed to lose its hair. There was nothing the doctor could do. Corsi decided the bald look would be better than having clumps of hair missing so he went Terry Steinbach's house to have his prized mullet sheared off.

To this day Corsi sports the bald look but don't ask him about it because he still gets very upset about it.

 

Wow. That's impressive.

 

Hey Chris is it true what I heard about Nutmegger Brook Fordyce and Jeff Juden (who was actually certifiably insane)?

 

Ed Sprague Sr, from Boston was a womanizer but that was because he came from a family of womanizers. Much like JFK lived in the shadow of his dad Joe Kennedy Sr. - Ed Sprague Sr. lived in the shadow of his father "Big" Mike Sprague. Literally from the moment he was born.

"Big" Mike Sprague ran the Half Dollar Saloon in Scollay Square in Boston (now Government Center) which in its day was the center of the red light district in Boston. Legend has it that Big Mike was tending bar on the night that Ed Sr. was born. It was too busy for Big Mike to leave the bar - so Ed Sr.'s mother - Martha Sprague - gave birth to Ed Sr. in one of the rooms above the bar with only the help of a one-legged Scottish midwife.

Big Mike was a legend in Scollay Square - nobody messed with Big Mike. However, tragedy befell Big Mike when Ed Sr. was just 10-years old. Big Mike was carrying a keg of beer up the stairs when he slipped and fell backward. The keg followed Big Mike down the stairs and when Big Mike landed on his ass - the keg landed squarely between his legs crushing his testicles and breaking his pelvis. Big Mike died three days later in extreme pain from internal bleeding.

Ed Sprague Sr spent the rest of his life trying to be as tough and as manly as Big Mike.

 

What about that timeless gravedigging story about Richie Hebner?

 

Richie Hebner from Boston, MA used to work offseasons as a gravedigger for the cemetery his father ran. A string of coincidences led to one of the best kept secrets in Massachusetts baseball and crime lore.

Like most cemeteries - bodies were stored during the cold months until the ground thaws enough for them to be buried.

Like many cemeteries - kids used the quiet of the cemetery as a place to hang around and drink.

Like many cemeteries - this cemetery was bounded on one side by railroad tracks.

It was late February and there was enough of a thaw to allow some of the bodies that had begun to accumulate to be properly buried in their respective graves. Richie's dad had two groups of three men each working their butts off. The first group would dig a grave - the second group would come with the casket and inter the body and fill in the grave. The two groups had been working all day and most of the bodies had been buried and all of the graves had been dug. The two guys working with Richie Hebner to fill the graves were local firemen who had to work the second shift - so Richie volunteered to finish the job of interring and burying the last three graves by himself.

The kids who hung out and drank at the cemetery were local high school kids who for the most part were harmless. However, they did like to throw rocks or empty Black Label bottles at the passing trains. Normally no damage was done but once and a while a shipment of new Winnebago's was being sent up to the local dealer in Newton and the thrown rocks would dent the Winnebago's and break the windows and the local dealer would refuse shipment. After happening twice - the factory decide to do something about it and this trip they sent two men to find out who is damaging the vehicles and to teach those causing the damage "a lesson".

Richie had finished two graves and was working on the final one when the train passed the cemetery. The kids threw rocks at the train and broke all the windows on the side of the Winnebago's which were facing the cemetery. The train slowed and two shadowy figures holding thick chains dropped from the train and once the train passed - they approached the fire where the kids were congregated shouting, "So you punks like to throw rocks huh!" The kids ran through the cemetery and they were fast. The two men chased but they were too slow. After a minute they came upon Richie Hebner with his shovel about to start filling in the final grave of the day.

The men knew Richie had nothing to do with the rock throwing but their blood was up and they weren't about to come all this way without giving someone a beating and that someone was going to Richie Hebner.

Richie, however, had something to say about their plan and when the first thug reared back to hit Richie with his chain - Hebner jabbed the point of his shovel into the mans Adam apple. The man dropped to his knees, dropped his chain, grabbed his throat with both hands and fell to the ground dead faster than you can say "Lake Quinsigamond". The second man saw what happened to his compatriot and hesitated between swinging his chain at Hebner and running away. Just as the man turned to run - Hebner swung his shovel and hit the man in the hamstring with the side of his shovel blade. The blade went in about an inch and a half and the man was immediately brought to his knees.

Now Hebner easily could have stopped here but the demon of rage was upon him and instead he swung his shovel with all his might with the blade of the shovel almost decapitating the sorry railroad thug.

After just a moment of consideration - Hebner decided that he had two dead bodies, an open grave and a shovel with which to fill the grave. The decision was easy. Dear departed Kathleen Wheeles not only had an elm tree near by to give her grave shade - she now had two more bodies to keep her company for eternity.

A couple of high school kids saw what happened but nobody ever talked about it. Nobody ever gave Richie Hebner any shit after that. The kids found a new place to drink and the Winnebago company quit having problems with their deliveries into Newton.

 

This thread is hilarious! [/not sarcasm]

 

Peter Bergeron from Greenfield, MA played parts of five seasons for the Montreal Expos. After leaving the game after the 2004 season - Bergeron literally disappeared for several months. Eventually he was found wandering the streets in Beirut, Lebanon where he claimed to have spent the last few months aboard a UFO. Bergeron remembered seeing a bright light and then wham! Bergeron stuck with his story about the UFO but was at a complete loss to explain how a tattoo of the Coca-Cola logo wond up on his lower back.

Bergeron now works as a chandler at Old Sturbridge Village.

BTW - if you find yourself in Greenfield - stop in to Jack's Cleaners and say hello to my friend Jay.

 

Happy Lou Merloni Day. The Mayor turns 38 today and I thought I'd bring back one of my favorite threads in his honor.

 

I thought this thread was going to be about this guy.