*is helplessly, helplessly, helplessly in
love*
I mean, yes. I know what the broken hand does to Yankee postseason. I've developed a healthy hatred for Torii Hunter, and the hots that I have for Joe Nathan are on permanent hold until we whup the living snot out of the Twins for the next two games. My stomach is already churning for tonight, but oh man, as lover of the crazy and the badass, how could I resist? Since Sheffield knows Brown better than any other Yankee, he was asked if there was something about Brown that would surprise people. Does he sing? Can he juggle? Is he a prankster?
After pondering the question for a few seconds, Sheffield said: "He does smile. When he pitched the no-hitter, he smiled. So he was perfect that day. He has to be perfect to smile."
Kevin Brown. The man, the myth, the crazy-ass, the unsmiling "my catcher is
my bitch" legend.