The Fat Toad
Hideki Irabu was a pitcher for the New York Yankees. They signed him to a big contract in the 1990's and he was supposed to be a great star as he had been in Japan.
It didn't work out that way.
Irabu was pretty awful as a Yankee. I wanted to like him, I really did. But he stunk. My brother used to yell at me about him as if I signed him to the deal.
The Yankees ended up dumping him and he signed with Texas. They cut him after he showed up to pitch - drunk as a skunk.
Irabu was found dead today. 42 years old. He died at his own hand.
These sort of stories really drive me crazy. He was blessed with talent enough to throw a ball and sign a 12 million dollar deal for doing so. He left Japan and came over to the United States, and it all fell apart from there.
When Irabu was with the Yanks he spoke only through an interpreter. The rest of the team talked about how hard it was to communicate with him.
Yet he stayed. He was living in Los Angeles at the time of his death. He was still drinking pretty good by his recent arrest record.
How do people fall so hard?
Isn't it weird that we think that all the money in the world will chase away the problems of the day. Having a lot of money evidently doesn't take away loneliness, or drive away addiction.
When Irabu was on the Yanks he didn't break off the mound to cover first base. He had been pitching pretty lousy that year anyway. Steinbrenner commented on him after the game, calling him a 'fat toad'.
Every single time Irabu pitched after that someone called him the fat toad.
I wonder if it had anything to do with him killing himself.
Sad story.
Desperation and isolation are just around the corner. No matter how loud the cheers used to be.
It didn't work out that way.
Irabu was pretty awful as a Yankee. I wanted to like him, I really did. But he stunk. My brother used to yell at me about him as if I signed him to the deal.
The Yankees ended up dumping him and he signed with Texas. They cut him after he showed up to pitch - drunk as a skunk.
Irabu was found dead today. 42 years old. He died at his own hand.
These sort of stories really drive me crazy. He was blessed with talent enough to throw a ball and sign a 12 million dollar deal for doing so. He left Japan and came over to the United States, and it all fell apart from there.
When Irabu was with the Yanks he spoke only through an interpreter. The rest of the team talked about how hard it was to communicate with him.
Yet he stayed. He was living in Los Angeles at the time of his death. He was still drinking pretty good by his recent arrest record.
How do people fall so hard?
Isn't it weird that we think that all the money in the world will chase away the problems of the day. Having a lot of money evidently doesn't take away loneliness, or drive away addiction.
When Irabu was on the Yanks he didn't break off the mound to cover first base. He had been pitching pretty lousy that year anyway. Steinbrenner commented on him after the game, calling him a 'fat toad'.
Every single time Irabu pitched after that someone called him the fat toad.
I wonder if it had anything to do with him killing himself.
Sad story.
Desperation and isolation are just around the corner. No matter how loud the cheers used to be.
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