|HAVE FORK, WILL TRAVEL.|
Like most of us, Delmon Young needs incentive to stay in shape. Unlike most of us, he's a professional athlete, so being physically fit should be the most basic part of his job.
It isn't. Not even close.
In fact, he's like a lot of baseball players who need a huge financial incentive not to become morbidly obese. Let that absurdity slowly sink in like rancid peanut oil into chicken-fried bacon. It's not enough that he's handsomely paid and coming to a new team or that obesity increases the likelihood of serious conditions like heart disease and diabetes. No, sir, he needs to be bribed to get and stay in shape so he can run from first to the third on a double without doubling over.
Young might have decent power standing at home plate but apparently no willpower hunched over a dinner plate.
And you think your boss asks a lot from you?
It makes me want to vomit -- probably shouldn't be giving ol' Del any ideas -- whenever one of these weight-clause contracts comes to light.
Reaching "optimum" playing weight would be such an achievement for the 6-foot-3 Young that the Philadelphia Phillies are willing to pay him up to $600,000 spread equally over six regular-season weigh-ins. The first three times he can't weigh more than 230 pounds, the last three 235 or less.
I'd recommend Ex-Lax chewables and a Fleet enema on the nights before just to be on the safe side. Incidentally, that bonus is not forfeited if he has a bunch of doughnuts in his box scores.
As an aside, the back of Young's 2012 Topps card lists him at 200 pounds. That's a real knee-slapper. He's well north of 240. Kiddies, stats sometimes do lie. Furthermore, when your BMI has almost doubled your season HR output (30-18), it's time to unclench the fork and become MIA from your favorite all-you-can-eat dive.
|I GUESS WE ALL LIE ABOUT OUR WEIGHT.|
Let's at least hope his weigh-ins are broadcast live from the clubhouse on MLB Network. Look, there's Young beforehand stripped down to his skivvies, shadow boxing. Oh, and there's Young afterward getting into a shouting and shoving match with the club dietitian.
We should all be so lucky to live on Delmon's planet, if there's room, a place so far removed from Earth that employees get bonuses for doing the things expected of them.
How does $500 offered randomly six times a year sound for getting to work on time and before the boss comes creeping around the corner?
What about a $5 bonus for each time you answer your phone? (Personal calls count.)
A C-Note for remaining awake during any meeting lasting over a half-hour?
You'd think Young would have incentive to be in shape and become a better ballplayer because, well, just because. Let's be honest, the Venus de Milo has a better arm. And he's moving from the AL to the NL, where his defensive limitations can't be hidden like a box Goo Goo Clusters under the bed.
How about some comprehensive off-season work on throwing mechanics? Maybe some light jogging? Salads? I guess when you're guaranteed a fat paycheck you don't sweat the small stuff.
Apparently, the off-season is for gorging and chugging. I mean, if it works for bowlers ... Look, I'm not a cold-hearted bastard who's against Young earning some extra cash. I'd be OK if he got a $250,000 bonus for not shouting anti-Semitic remarks on a public street at 2 a.m. Although, imagine all the calories he must burn when going off on such a rant.
Not exactly the prototypical P90X workout, but I guess it's something.