Dangerous curveball. Determination like a motherf'er. Kicks so much ass in his sleep that he injures himself.
My Albert man-crush seems to overshadow my Adam Wainwright man-crush way too often, but here's a great way to cheat on Bert and give some love elsewhere.
In the last issue of ESPN Magazine, Adam Wainwright shared his BBQ ribs recipe. Let me say that again, using much clearer words: Adam Wainwright is the fuckin' man:
I could only imagine some of his teammates seeing this. Well, one in particular -
Colby: Hey, uh Aydam. You ain't made dem ribs in a whal'. Are you, uh, makin' ribs over this weekend?
Adam: No Colby. You want me to barbecue some ribs for you?
CR: I uh, I just hayn't eatin' no ribs nowhere since maw made 'em over the All Star Game Break. I was just, uh, wondrin'...
AW: Sure man. Head over Sunday after the game and we'll have one last dinner before the off-season starts.
CR: Well, uh, daddy's pickin' me up Sunday night, so I cayn't.
AW: How about I email you the recipe, and your mom can make them whenever you'd like?
CR: Do what?
AW: I'll email the recipe. To you.
AW: You've got to get to BP, don't you?
CR: I like hittin'. Are we at home today, or do we need to get on one of dem arrowplanes?