Deadspin: Pedro Guerrero Beats The Spread

My own contribution to this genre, a little entry about Pedro Guerrero, is slight in comparison. Probably everyone who ever covered baseball, which features the most immodest mind-set in all of sports, has a similar anecdote. Dicks are always out, flaunted, bandied, waved and wiggled in a clubhouse. It’s the most exaggerated exhibitionism this side of the Internet. And everybody was used to Pedro, in particular, flaunting, bandying or wiggling his. He was a good hitter in those days, but also wildly inappropriate, even by the standards of baseball. If you were in your interview crouch, transcribing some Dodger’s quotes, you knew to jump if you felt something brushing your neck.

Even so, it was something of a shock that night when Pedro, naked as always, slathered his member across the banquet of post-game cold-cuts. It must have finally occurred to him that he simply could. I want to say he did it with relish, but that goes without saying. In any case, the clubhouse was seized with a kind of trauma, the players’ eyes wide, their mouths agape at the singular destruction of dinner. We’d all seen Pedro wield his instrument in any variety of ways but never in the vandalism of free food.