Sal Plans To Leave His Heart (And His Train) In San Francisco

Hey, folks. It's Sal.

Here's hopin' everybody had a great Chrismukahza.

With the New Year right around the corner, Sal's comin' to the realization that somethin' else is right around the corner too: spring trainin'.

Here's the straight talk comin': Sal still don't have a new team to do some catchin' wit' next season. And while toolin' around wit' Mrs. Sal and the mini-Sals on the Fu-Man-Choo-Choo is awesome, Sal can't stop thinkin' about what town he's gonna call home next year.

That's why Sal's attention was grabbed by the balls yesterday when the news came out that one of Sal's colleagues -- we'll call him Big Zito, like he's in the mob -- had signed a monster-freakin'-contract wit' a Bay area team full of really tall people. Sal couldn't believe the money that Big Zito got from this team. It was insane. And it hurt Sal's feelin's.

Why did it hurt Sal's feelin's you ask, Pals? Well, let's not forget that any guy who throws the ball off the mound has got to throw it to somebody whose ass is crouched, uncomfortably, behind the plate for about three hours a night...like Sal. So, how is it that a thrower like Big Zito gets $126 million guaranteed and good ol' Sal has bubkus to show for all his hard work?

Crouchin' ain't easy, folks. Crouchin' ain't easy.

So, considerin' that Sal feels ignored and under-appreciated, he's decided to head out to the Bay area, cross that Golden Gate-thing, and talk to some of the tall people about gettin' some respect in the form of a catchin' job.

Sal even went so far as to call up Big Zito's agent to do some representin' at this meetin', seein' as Big Zito's agent seems to get everybody a crapload of cash to do their playin'.

Sal's still waitin' on a call back.

Don't get Sal wrong, he's not lookin' for Big Zito money. That would be crazy! But when Sal applies his Slidin' Scale of Payin' for Playin', he's thinkin' that a contract somewhere in the range of 3 years, $21 million should do the trick.

Pretty excitin'!

It's so excitin' that when Sal told Mrs. Sal and the Minis about the money that Big Sal was shootin' for they laughed uncontrollably for about 10 minutes.

They probably just didn't know how to react to such staggerin' news. It's a process.

Sal Provides Good Tidings, Merriment, and Earl, the Guy What Looks Like Santa

Hey, kids. Jingle, jingle, jingle - it's holiday Sal!

So Sal's itinerary has changed a bit. See, Sal was plannin' on chug-a-chuggin' the Fu Man Choo-Choo straight on up to the North Pole this week. He wanted to get the mini-Sals a face to face encounter wit' Jolly Ol' Saint Nick himself, but as the ol' proverb says "no good intention gets by wit'out gettin' kicked in the nuts."

Turns out Sal made the wrong choice when he chug-a-chugged the Fu Man Choo Choo into Denver last week. Sal had this great idea to gain access to this super exclusive club he'd heard a bunch about. Sal's ol' teammates raved about it and kept tellin' ol' Sallie that he and Mrs. Sal needed to get in. So Sal took the family all the way out to Colorado as a surprise.

Long story short: Sal was wrong to think the "Mile High Club" was a fancy-pants Supper Club located in Denver.

So now Sal is snowed in. He can't get outta this city even wit' his high powered locomotive.

But Sal would not be deterred. He wanted to make sure the mini-Sals got to hear from the Big Guy. So Sal embarked on a quest and he trudged out onto the snowy Denver streets.

The first place he saw was called "Get Your Jollies." This was exactly what Sal was hopin' for. What better place to find a Santa?

It was not to be. This here guy was the closest to Santa Sal found there:












This was not the lastin' image of Christmas Sal was hopin' for.

So Sal kept on questin' until he ended up at the local mall, where he met this here guy:












Pals, meet Earl - the guy what looks like Santa.

Earl is a Santa-helper. He is NOT the real deal. But once Sal was able to look past the faint smell of cheese and the flask marked "Merry Juice," he realized Earl would be a great guy to introduce to the kids.

After a quick stop at the Orange Julius, Earl and Sal headed on back to the hotel where the Fasano bunch was stayin'. (To protect Sal's family's whereabouts, we'll just call it the "Motel 5.")

Here's the straight talk comin': the mini-Sals were tickled pink about meetin' Earl. After a few minutes of cryin', the kids sat on ol' Earl's lap and told him what they wanted for Christmas (both Sal, Jr. and Sally Ann asked for chest protectors - Sal teared up wit' pride). Then we sang some songs like Rudolph and Good King Wankylots.

Really, the whole thing was a heart-warmin' Christmas miracle. Only problem is that Earl is still here, on accounta he won't leave. Sal tried to convince Earl that maybe he needed to get back to the mall, but Earl says no dice...he's eatin' too good wit' me and the family.

So Sal decided that, in the spirit of the season, he would let Earl come along on the rest of the trip. It never hurts to be nice to someone who's got the ear of the Big Guy this close to Christmas. Maybe Sal will even find a new team under his tree next week.

Happy Holidays, Pals.

Sal Believes This is a Slippery Slope

Yep. It's Sal.

Kids, until yesterday, Sal's vacation was goin' great. He was relaxin', he was travelin', he was chug-a-chuggin'. But right around 4PM - through the Fu Man-Choo-Choo's kick-ass wireless connection - Sal saw somethin' that has him "shittin' bricks," as we in baseball call it.

What Sal saw blew his mind. He didn't know what to make of it. Well, enough of the jibber-jabber...here's what Sal saw:


This is the scariest stuff Sal's baby browns ever beheld.

Here's the straight talk comin': Sal now realizes he now has very little time left to earn a livin' in baseball. Let's face it - this here robot made more contact in the 3 minute video than Sal has in 20 years of organized ball. It's only a matter of time before some crazy scientist-type teaches it to squat and tell pitchers to throw fastballs, curveballs, and whatnot.

So, Sal is facin' the future...and he doesn't like what he sees.

Though - truth be told - Sal is really lookin' forward to seein' a live version of this here:

So it ain't all bad.

Sal Has Taken Matters Into His Own Hands

Hey, folks. Look, it's me. Sal.

So, Sal and Mrs. Sal and the mini-Sals have been havin' a great ol' time lookin' at this beautiful country of ours while travelin' in the fu-man-choo-choo. Let me tell you, this thing can really motor. When the choo-choo gets goin', there's no stoppin' us.

The kids just love all the sounds of the choo-choo, especially that whole "chug-a-chug-a" thing that the wheels do. Sometimes Sal will start "chug-a-chug'in" when the choo-choo isn't even movin', and everybody laughs because it's me and not the train. It's crazy funny.

Irregardless of the fun the Sals are havin', Big Sal thought he should make a special stop on his vacation. He heard that a lot of the guys who make the important decisions about all the baseball teams were meetin' in Florida to discuss all of us players...especially those guys that don't have a team to play for yet. Well...guess who one of those guys is? It's me! Sal!

We took the choo-choo down to Orlando and, as dumbass luck would have it, Disneyworld is right there! So, Sal bought the mini-Sals a couple of them Mickey Mouse hats with the ears and sent them into the Magic Kingdom so that they could frolic. Mrs. Sal went with 'em so my little Mickeys didn't get into trouble.

Sal went over to the hotel where all the important guys were meetin'. Sal figured that he would make a big entrance and make sure that everybody knew that he had arrived. So, Sal put on his best tuxedo, which he keeps with him all the time just in case a moment like this should arise, and walked right in to the lobby.

Here's the straight talk comin': Sal saw lots of guys that he knew...some that he liked too. One guy that Sal likes a lot was there. He's the important guy from Sal's last team, the....gotcha! Didn't think Sal would give it up did ya'? In any case, Sal will call this important guy The Cash Man, seein' as he's got a lot of cash. But talkin' to The Cash Man was another important guy that Sal doesn't like too much. He's the important guy from one of Sal's old teams, and Sal didn't like the way he was treated by him. Sal will call him Mr. Gil-dick.

So, anyways, Sal was about to walk over to all the important guys he could find and ask about a job for next year...you know, catchin'. But before Sal could even get close, people started comin' up to him and sayin' things like, "I'll have a scotch and soda," and "Will you be sure to bring more shrimp cocktail out here?"

Sal didn't know what was goin' on. Why were they askin' Sal these crazy things? They make juice out of shrimp now?

Well, not knowin' what to say, Sal decided the best thing to do was to try and help these people out. So, Sal spent the next five-and-a-half hours runnin' back and forth from the kitchen to the lobby, gettin' whatever anybody needed.

By the time the day was over, Sal was pooped, and he didn't even have a new team that he could do some catchin' with next year.

Long story short, Sal has decided there's only one thing to do: he's gonna get that nice tuxedo of his dry-cleaned, send the mini-Sals and Mrs. Sal to Epcot Center, and head back to that lobby tomorrow.

How can they resist the fu-manchu again?