2012 PawSox Poster Night, AKA Autograph Night - Billy Buckner Blows Goats. I have proof.

I know a thing or two about autograph protocol. I have/had/have again a friend who is a 'grapher', so I know what goes on behind the sawhorses at McCoy Stadium. In fact, I am making a movie about graphers! YEAH! All I need is one million dollars and I can start getting the wheels rolling.

I never miss Poster Night and you know that. This year, I got a letter in the mail that allowed season ticket holders a 15 minute head start, which was great, because usually I just show up the night before with my sleeping bag and a kerosene lantern and curl up under the stars at Gate D.

Well, the early start never happened. Yes, the fans were allowed through the gate, but not onto the field. The players rolled in a little after five, which makes sense because lord knows how this ONE HOUR OUT OF AN ENTIRE BASEBALL SEASON is exhausting, grueling, and painful. These guys' lives are so fucking hard!

Everything was going okay. Attendance was not even close to what it was last year. Seriously, there were maybe half the lines of 2011 or even 2010 or 2009 0r 2008. I have to admit, I wasn't terribly interested in anyone aside from Mark Prior, who was reasonably pleasant.

I will say that Billy Buckner wins Enormous Douche PawSox Player of the Year! I don't even like the guy, mostly because he has been such a shitty pitcher in Pawtucket, but he was on my path so I stopped at his table. I offered a page in my scorebook. A blank page that some other dudes had signed. And Buckner takes it, looks at it, and then signs his name in the middle, intentionally overlapping another player's autograph. Totally ignored all the empty space. Just to be a fucking asshole, I guess. I mean, are you kidding me? Who the hell gives a flying fuck about this guy? What was the point of that?

Meanwhile, seated to Buckner's left, was newbie Josh Fields. When the guy in front of me handed Fields a very nice photo to sign, Fields says, "Who do I make this out to?" And when players say this, it means they hate you and don't want you to maybe sell their autographed picture and make money. Newsflash, Josh Fields: No one knows who you are. God, that table was all dickface, all day.

Danny Valencia sat by himself and was visibly miserable and sulky, mumbling and avoiding eye contact. Evidently he is thrilled to be in Pawtucket.

Daniel Bard was surprisingly pleasant. I expected him to be in his Moppy Place. Other players resembling human beings were Reynaldo Rodriguez, Nelson Figueroa, and Jason Repko. Repko is so smart and good-looking and everyone likes him and he does not have to lose weight at all.

Easily the nicest guy on the field last night was Jose Iglesias. Iglesias engaged with the kids, smiled, made small talk, seemed cheerful, and called out to me as I walked away... To tell me he liked my t-shirt. Eff yeah, you do. My t-shirt was awesome! Thanks, Jose Iglesias!

Other soulless dicks include De La Torre, Alex Wilson, JC Linares, and perhaps most disappointingly, Mauro Gomez. I guess Gomez' bat is enough, he doesn't need to be Miss Congeniality.

I skipped a lot of guys, but I do regret not stopping by Arnie Beyeler's table. I like Arnie a lot.

ZOMG I have a camera now! I don't have many pictures but I might put up what I have. Sadly, no one wore a 'LENNY IS A BABE' t-shirt.

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