“The pros are: She is kind, sweet, caring, joyful, selfless, courageous, brave, and don’t forget smart. The cons are: she is a raccoon but then again so am I.”
Hi, I am Gilbert the raccoon, and I am very different than other raccoons. Not only do I have gray and white stripes down my back that kind of look like a horse’s saddle, I also weigh 27.1 pounds, and I am the first raccoon to play baseball. But let me tell you after today plenty more raccoons will play baseball. As a matter of fact, instead of Major League Baseball or MLB it will be Gilbert the Super Awesome Totally Great Raccoon Baseball League, also known as GTSATGRBL.
I play baseball to make the world a better place. I hope that soon I will be able to move out of my parent’s trash can and be able to live in a trash can of my own with my wife Wanda and my child Fitzgerald. Fitzgerald is a delicate little raccoon only weighing 22.3 pounds, but with the way me and Wanda are raising him he will at least be thirty-eight pounds.
My wife Wanda is sweet like caramel, soft like a cloud, kind like a fellow bird but yet, I think she is weird like a half-bitten pencil, unappealing like a unwrapped stepped-on candy, and personally I think she smells like the dump. If I had the choice I would abandon Wanda and put her back in the trash can she came from, but that is not a choice at the this moment. My ugly wife (I would like to refrain from the phrase “wife”), but anyway, the person I live with who happens to be named Wanda has a gross blob of gray fur right on her rump. She also has a mustard stain on her face that is most likely because she eats like a barbarian.
Fitzgerald is weird like a horse in a tree, unappealing like a rotten apple, and he smells like a porta-potty but yet I love him like I love half-eaten box Chinese food. If I had the choice I would stuff him in a bag and tie him up so he can go everywhere with me. Just as an extra precaution I would smack him with a baseball bat just to make sure he will be quiet, that is how much I love my little Fitzgerald.
As I mentioned earlier I play for the Boston Red Sox and like any baseball player or baseball raccoon our goal is to cross home plate, but for me I fear home plate. Every time I cross home I get a carrot and so do all the other players. But the only thing that scares me more than home plate is carrots! David Ortiz also know as “Big Poppi” crosses home the most that is why he is the biggest on our team. When I cross home plate, I want peace and I want to be able to relax not get showered by raccoonade or get feed carrots bigger then me (personally carrots are step lower than the dumpster and the dumpster sets a pretty low bar, I didn’t even know the made bars lower than that!).
But that’s enough chit chat for me, Hanley Ramirez is up to bat and I am up after him.
As I suspected a ground out to third Hanley is safe but Pedroia is out at second. As I step up to bat I feel heavy but there is no need to call the medic I am a 27.1 pound raccoon with a very heavy bat over my shoulder.
The pitcher throws a ball and I do not swing at it. The next one is a strike, but third time’s a charm as I swing at the ball with all my might. I see it fly. It flies past first base and past the outfield and its gone oh no! I hit a home run!! Did I mention that when you hit a home run and cross home, you don’t only get a carrot and a raccoonade shower, but you get a pecans! I hate pecans more than carrots!!!
As I run the final stretch I realize that the whole team isn’t at home plate waiting to serenade me. They are just in the dugout clapping, and there are no carrots or pecans. Is this it? Am I finally gonna get what I have wanted all along, peace and quiet!?!! And oh, look at the grass blooming tall and the flowers budding and trees growing! I did it I have reached home plate zen!!!
Fifteen years later, Gilbert was voted into the raccoon hall of fame. Gilbert was an inspiration to raccoons everywhere. He went on to teach the homeplate zen club and he decided to coach the Fighting Rabies team which is based out of Guatemala. At age 473, Gilbert went on to change the rules of baseball to whenever you cross home, your teammates must wait in the dugout with flowers and blades of grass that have been prelicked (if you are someone who watches baseball, you know that you don’t actually wait in the dugout with flowers and prelicked blades of grass, but that is because at age 473 Gilbert was not alive but if Mr. Gilbert was still alive we know that was what he would have done.)
As Gilbert exited the field he finds a police officer running toward him. What is happening why is he running towards me? “Sir! Sir!” yelled the police officer. “Your son has called the police department saying that your wife left early yesterday morning and has not returned!” As Gilbert looked at the police officer as cool as a cucumber he realized a splotch of mustard on the police officer’s face.
“Why should I be concerned? Just because she is my wife, that doesn’t mean I have to love her,” I say sharply.
“Huh, well I think Wanda deserves better,” said the police officer, now starting to sound like Wanda.
“Wait, Wanda is that you in there? Look, I am sorry I didn’t mean to say that to you,” I say slightly confused and embarrassed.
“Well you did!” said the police officer that we now know is Wanda.
“Well you can’t expect to be a caring, sweet, and kind wife and me not to hate you,” I said doubting myself.
“Well actually I kind of expected that if you get lucky enough to get someone like me then you should cherish the moment because one day you are going to die and in heaven you will be hoping that I die with you but I won’t so poo on you.” said my stupid kind of really sweet and I loving wife Wanda.
As I think about a list of pros and cons about Wanda, I realize that the pros outweigh the cons by a lot! The pros are: She is kind, sweet, caring, joyful, selfless, courageous, brave, and don’t forget smart. The cons are: she is a raccoon but then again so am I. Maybe I have been dumb. Maybe Wanda is right. “Wait!” I yelped. “Please stay, I love you and I will never ever let you go again. We should return home as a fat marry couple,” I say, kind of becoming more cheerful.
“You are right for once. We should return home together but let’s leave out the merry part because I don’t do marry my only emotions are sassy, angry, and totally awesome,” said Wanda with a sassy, angry, and for the first time ever totally awesome tone.
I have never been this happy before it is almost as good as home plate zen.