Just Rickey Being Rickey

Here at TMS, we are nothing if not timely. In that vein, here is a story that surfaced last week about our old friend, a man who is welcome to write a guest column at the Saloon any time, a one Rickey Henderson. (Where's the 'War Hero' on this guy?)

If you aren't a fan of reading (in which case you probably stopped reading this a few sentences ago), let me sum up the article with the precision of Mark Prior's surgeon...

-Rickey catches a foul ball at the Mets-Giants game. Refuses to give it to a kid. "Everybody was asking me for the ball. I said, 'You're not getting this ball. I always wanted to get a foul ball. This one's going on a shelf at home."
To his credit(?), Rickey did sign a ball that the young fan already had with him. It's going on 'his shelf'...nice. Yeah, there's my record setting stolen base, my 3000th hit and...oh that? That's a foul ball I caught a couple of weeks ago in the stands.

-Rickey wants to make a comeback. "Seeing Roger come back, all the seed that it plants is ask me to come back one time...I'm going to look at it at the end of the year. I might come out with some crazy stuff, a press conference telling every club, 'Put me on the field with your best player and see if I come out of it.' If I can't do it, I'll call it quits at the end."
I love the 'put me on the field with your best player and see if I come out of it' line. Like a battle royale? Is he going to actually fight a team's best player? Have some sort of competition, like throwing a ball through a tire swing? Challenge them to a race?

-Rickey is a country boy. He hasn't hit the gym for a while, but he drives a tractor, rides horses and raises cows -- and insists he will win a trophy in competitive fishing one day.
No comment is really needed here.