Comments on: Flex Studler responds to your comments! Right on!

By: Rex Hudler

Rex Hudler — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 02:39:29 +0000

Listen, brother, I don’t hold a grudge against hardly anybody. But when a man eats another man’s lox and bagel, he crosses a bro-line that cannot be uncrossed. The only way he could earn my forgiveness is if he had a special needs child, but so far he and his wife are too stubborn to make that happen.

By: Ignatius Pig

Ignatius Pig — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 00:02:41 +0000

By the way, the slur against David Segui is just wrong. I once saw a game where David Segui got a base hit with a runner on third in the first inning, an obvious indication of his intangible greatness.

By: Ignatius Pig

Ignatius Pig — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 17:00:36 +0000

Oh my God. I had no idea Rex had done that when Ripken made his victory lap around the stadium. That is righteous! Hahahahahaha!!!

By: Krankor

Krankor — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 16:56:49 +0000

I’d forgotten about that! Like I said, so many great Rex moments.

By: sporkless

sporkless — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 16:26:07 +0000

Also, in regards to Ig’s comment: Rex ALWAYS looks like he’s had about three hundred cups of coffee. Even when he’s broadcasting.

Another favourite Rex moment: Rex was playing for the Angels in Baltimore the day that Cal Ripken broke the consecutive games record in 1995. As you may recall, Cal hit a home run in the 4th, the crowd, teammates, and announcers were going nuts and everyone pretty much thought that at this moment in time, Cal was a god on earth. Since the Angels were trailing, the game was made official after the last out in the top of the 5th, and there were some fireworks and an announcement, and that was supposed to be it. But the crowd was giving an interminable standing ovation, so some Oriole teammates forced Cal out of the dugout to do a “victory lap” and shake hands (a bit sheepishly) with the fans in the front rows around the stadium.

Well, Rex had taken his position at second base, and had totally joined in to the standing ovation by pounding his throwing hand into his glove with great power and rapidity. And then when the game was further delayed while Cal went on his victory lap, Rex was so excited, he was kind of bouncing up and down like a little boy, and sort of shadowed Cal as he circled the stadium, about 100 feet to the interior, continuing to bounce up and down and applaud as he went.

By: sporkless

sporkless — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 15:03:02 +0000

The “scooch” incident was fricking HILARIOUS. I thought Pascual was going to go postal on him for a minute.

By: Krankor

Krankor — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 02:47:32 +0000

You know, for a journeyman utility infielder, it’s surprising how many memorable “Rex moments” there are. I’d be hard pressed to pick a favourite from among:

* Rex sitting on the bench, staring forward intently as if he’s really focused on the action on field, popping sunflower seeds into his mouth. Each time he throws a seed into his mouth, he scooches down the bench a little bit, shoving the guy next to him a little and causing five guys to shuffle over in a chain reaction. Seed, scooch, shuffle. Seed, scooch, shuffle. At the end of the bench is Pascual Perez, who has not clue what is happening and is getting visible freaked out by getting shoved toward the end of the bench in the inexorable rhythm of Rex’s scooching. Beautiful.

* Rex hitting a home run in extra innings — top of the 10th, if I recall — and double high-fiving his teammates so hard that they all hunch over, wincing. One player, maybe Tim Wallach, turns away rapidly to avoid having to receive a righteous fiver

* Running back to the dugout after that same home run, putting on his mitt, and sitting there slapping it impatiently, visibily vibrating in anticipation of going out in the bottom of the inning and defending the lead he just gave the Expos.

* The Mike LaValliere moment, naturally.

Good times, good times.

By: Ignatius Pig

Ignatius Pig — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 15:19:53 +0000

I think my favourite all time Rex moment was the time you, Rex, you were playing in the one-game playoff for California back in 1995. You had reached first base – by accident, no doubt – and took off when the pitcher (some cheating, balking lefty) started to move. Only he didn’t pitch to the plate; he was throwing to first. But you were movin’. The throw came into the shortstop covering second just as you slid, feet first like a man, into the bag, and the tag was an eyelash too late. You bounced up, the ump called you safe, and you pointed and screamed at the umpire. Your shouting looked suspiciously like someone who had just had three hundred cups of coffee, and wanted to the let the ump know that he was “!#$!*#$!(*) right!!!!” over the safe call.

Good times, good times. Too bad California lost the game because J.T. Snow couldn’t figure out how to field a weak ground ball up the first base line.