The Bullpen Banter: The Locker Room Leper

The unfortunate episode #7

I am excited to release an episode of the Banter that forever lives in infamy. As if my previous outing was not punishment enough, I became the locker room leper. Since joining The Boston Consulting Group, I always have teammates ask me why I left professional baseball. Well, beyond the fact that I was fired, do not look any further than this episode of the Banter.


Hi Everyone,

Emergency Bullpen Banter! The glory days of Minor League Baseball are here! I have Scabies (allegedly).

Allow me to explain.

The Bed Bugs from Charleston seem to actually be Scabies from one of my Dominican counterparts. Well, we think. Originally, the Dr and Hiro (our Japanese trainer) thought they were mites from the bed. Still could be. After pictures today, the Dr has decided it is Scabies, and I have medication. 

Apparently, our locker room (which consists of maybe 2 completed college degrees) consists of 25 PHD's because they have all diagnosed me with Scabies. With the help of the internet, we have decided that my Dominican counterparts spread Scabies to me via the laundry in Spring Training. It takes 4-6 weeks for symptoms to show up. I am the town Leper. 

Just like everyone has become an epidemiologist since COVID hit, everyone became a doctor once I got Scabies. If there is one life lesson, people love talking about things they know nothing about… although this actually could have been scabies.

Not to mention, Scabies sounds like rabies. Need to change the name. If this is gone in 24-48 hrs, then the name is way worse than what it is. Scabies sounds like I have been infected with an apocalyptic-level virus. I intend to invent a new name, and tweet an irrational amount of requests at a doctor to change it. Not really. Although, I do not hate that idea.

Anyways, why am I writing this to you all? For a couple of reasons.

One, I am fighting Benadryl to stay awake while my pillow cases dry.

Two, I am launching an all-out assault on Scabies.

Sure, they have gotten the better of me. My torso is on fire. I have been publicly shamed in the locker room. Now, my locker will be quarantined from the group. 

So what do I do? Well if there is one thing my good friends Bill (Belichick) and Tom (Brady. Heard of him?) have taught me, it is that a good Gameplan and execution trumps (not meant to be a pun connecting Donald Trump and Brady/Belichick) all. 

Now that Tom Brady left the Patriots, this line makes me tear up a little.

With the help of Google, I have washed every sheet and towel I have used. I have quarantined any clothes I have not gotten to yet. I have showered and covered myself toe to head (as the tube says) in steroid cream, and I have down six pills (the prescribed dosage) of steroid pills with Benadryl to shock the system. 

Outside of the physical aspect, I may just look in the mirror and smack talk the Scabies a little bit. A good witty verbal assault can go a long way in Mental Warfare. It was only winning because I did not know it was Scabies. Now that I know, you should pray for the little insects in my skin. I intend to beat these little bugs into submission with my brain. 0% chance these little things even have brains. As long as I coat my ears with steroid cream, they cannot access my brain and beat me mentally. FACT. Advantage? Jeff.

I can confirm that I was typing all of this with a hodgepodge of medication covered in steroid cream in my boxers. Keep in mind, I was living in a minor league apartment, so I literally had a bed and a nightstand in the room. That is it. There I sat, in a barren room, madlessly typing about how I would beat Scabies. It is safe to say that I have previously withheld this episode of the Banter when applying to jobs or even just trying to make friends.

On top of it all, I have convinced myself that there is no difference between the steroid I was given and an anabolic steroid, so I may throw 1,000mph  tomorrow if I pitch. Astroturfing the least, I have the Placebo effect on my side. Once again, advantage? Jeff. 

I am fairly convinced that “astroturfing” was a typo. Either that, or it was a brilliant new saying that I cannot even understand looking back. Let’s go with the latter.

This mental win will be good for me. I had my brain scrambled yesterday. The plumber living below us was very drunk. When I went to my car, he was on his balcony, and he asked us about baseball. For 5-10 minutes, the plumber insisted that we played University of South Carolina a month ago, and he wanted to come to our next series against them. He was wearing a South Carolina sleeveless shirt.

While I reassured him we did not play them, he emphatically insisted we did. I think he was mixing them up with the Columbia Fireflies? Not sure. He was so serious that he started to make me doubt myself. I lost that battle.

Anyways, that is all I have. Pillow cases are done, and I have Game of Thrones-like escapade to launch to terminate Scabies. In the meantime, I might even create a tombstone to remember the day Scabies met their match. They had a good run.


LeScabies James (Play on LeBurke James if you missed that. See previous Banters for that joke)

I would like to say that the jury is still out on who won this battle, but even going back and re-reading this makes me realize that Scabies won in a landslide.