| | | So far this spring, Gary Sheffield has demanded a trade from the Dodgers, insisted the Dodgers give him a lifetime contract, demanded a trade again, threatened to air the team's dirty laundry, declared his desire to honor his contract and play out the season with passion, hired Scott Boras as his agent and generally made himself less popular than an IRS audit.
| | If my teammates hop on my back, Gary Sheffield will lead them to the World Series. | But hey, it isn't easy being as inconsistent as the wind direction at Wrigley Field. To get a full appreciation of how hard it is to be Gary Sheffield, the Dodgers' own Hamlet has agreed to give Page 2's readers an exclusive look at a typical entry in his private journal ...
7:32 a.m.: Woke up, rolled over, kissed wife and whispered into her ear, "Good morning, my love. I cherish you. I will love you for all eternity."
7:47 a.m.: Ate cereal, read morning box scores, handed wife divorce papers on way out door.
8:12 a.m.: Arrived at camp. Announced intention to lead teammates to World Series, telling them to jump on my back, that they are my brothers and that Gary Sheffield would carry them all the way to October.
8:19 a.m.: Checked team NCAA Tournament pool results posted in trainer's room. Demanded that the standings be changed because Gary Sheffield really
meant to pick Hampton and Georgia State. Got incensed when Eric Karros refuses. Stomped off to my locker, muttering about how Gary Sheffield can't
be expected to play with such selfish, unsupportive teammates.
8:30 a.m.: Told Los Angeles Times beat writer that Gary Sheffield was demanding a trade.
8:52 a.m.: Told Orange County Register columnist that what Gary Sheffield really wanted was a contract extension that would keep Gary Sheffield in Los Angeles for life.
9:14 a.m.: Refused interview with USA Today reporter, announcing that from now on, Gary Sheffield would speak only to ABC special environmental correspondent Leonardo DiCaprio.
9:29 a.m.: Took the field for stretching, telling reporters that unless Gary Sheffield was traded before batting practice, I would hold a noon press conference to really lower the boom on general manager Kevin Malone and the Dodgers.
10:15 a.m.: While standing by the batting cage waiting for my turn to hit, asked Malone how the family is and invited him over for dinner to taste my
new recipe for Thai chicken pasta.
11:40 a.m.: Left the field for lunch. Got flustered when asked whether Gary Sheffield wanted rye or wheat bread for sandwich. Just had the soup instead.
12:48 a.m.: Made reporters wait 45 minutes, then cancelled press conference.
1:24 p.m.: Homered in first at-bat against Montreal.
2:23 p.m.: Singled in third at-bat and stole second base.
| | Hmmm, should Gary Sheffield wear pants or shorts on the way home from the ballpark? | 2:24 p.m.: Felt guilty about it and went back to first.
2:48 p.m.: Left game in seventh inning when minor-league prospect went in. Returned to clubhouse and told reporters that Gary Sheffield had narrowed the
list of teams to whom Gary Sheffield was willing to be traded to Minnesota and Montreal. Blasted Malone for not getting it worked out.
3:10 p.m.: Showered. Sat by locker, agonizing over whether to wear shorts or pants home from the ballpark.
3:37 p.m.: Oh, what the heck. Shorts. It's a nice day.
3:41 p.m.: No, pants. It might get cool.
3:45 p.m.: Drove back to condo. Kissed wife and told her how much Gary Sheffield loved her and missed her and asked her to please forgive Gary
Sheffield about the divorce.
4:08 p.m: Called up phone company and switched long-distance service from AT&T to MCI.
4:49 p.m.: Took call from Boras and found out the Dodgers refused to trade Gary Sheffield or renegotiate contract. Fired him.
5:27 p.m.: Found wife's underwear hanging from shower-curtain rod. Gave her back the divorce papers.
7 p.m.: After dinner, went to multiplex to see a movie. Got flustered by the choices. Went home to watch NCAA Tournament instead.
10:52 p.m.: Called up ESPN and told Pete Gammons that Gary Sheffield now demanded to be the Stanford tree mascot.
11:34 p.m.: Went to bed, turned off lights, kissed wife, told her, "Good night, my love. I cherish you and will love you for all eternity."
Jim Caple is a regular contributor to Page 2.
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