Twin Peaks Have Answer for These Mystery Races

Hello again, everybody, and welcome to another season of major league baseball, starring the arm of Nolan Ryan, the legs of Rickey Henderson, the wheels of Jose Canseco, the hands of Kevin Mitchell, the head of Darryl Strawberry, the love handles of Cecil Fielder, the lip of Roger Clemens, the poker face of Lenny Dykstra and the pet peeves of Marge Schott, man’s best friend.

And no longer starring the famous Mr. Fernando Valenzuela, the even more famous Mr. Bo Jackson and the infamous Mr. George Steinbrenner, all of them going, going, gone.

What sort of season will it be? Will Barry (Pay Me or Trade Me) Bonds give the Pittsburgh Pirates their money’s worth? Will Jack (Speak Loudly and Carry a Big Stick) Clark last a full season in Boston without alienating half the squad? Will Kirk (Win or I’ll Kill You) Gibson turn Kansas City into his third championship team by hitting a World Series home run with a cane?

Will the twin peaks, Davids Winfield and Parker, bring the Angels a pennant before they are stuffed and mounted and put on exhibit in the Gene Autry Western Heritage Museum? Will Bo Schembechler continue to do for the Detroit Tigers what he did for the University of Michigan--make sure they flop in postseason play? Will the Atlanta Braves be a big hit for TBS or such a bomb that they’ll move to CNN, with play-by-play by Peter Arnett and Wolf Blitzer?

These and many other questions will be answered in the months to come, when we rejoin our old friends from the billionaire boys’ club.

Remember, Rocket Clemens worked 31 days last year, Doc Gooden 34 days, and each gets paid $5 million per annum. So be sure not to miss a single pitch whenever these two splendid fellows punch the clock, because Rock and Doc could always ask their butlers or valets or other servants to do the pitching for them, you know.

If we could make a request list, as the radio deejays say, of things we would like to see happen, it would have to include: Orel Hershiser back, slinging sliders and singing hymns; Tony Gwynn healthier and happier and hitting .330 again; Cecil or Jose or Straw or some other mighty slugger doing the Roger Maris bit; and Carlton Fisk chasing Deion Sanders down the first base line, screaming: “Run! Run it out! You’re getting paid! Run, damn you!”

Oh, and Denver and St. Petersburg, Fla., getting the two new National League franchises. That would be nice. I just hate to see these people with nothing to do except skiing and shuffleboard.

Here’s our official 1991 preview. Clip and save.

NATIONAL LEAGUE EAST

Insurance companies put Chicago Cubs out of business after George Bell, Andre Dawson and Ryne Sandberg conk 90 to 120 pedestrians on skulls with home runs that clear left-field fence. First place.

Bobby Bonilla and Barry Bonds bolt Pittsburgh, leaving Pirates with team payroll only 50 times larger than entire Pennsylvania Teachers Assn. Second place.

Montreal Expos contend for pennant, even though 98% of North Americans can name no more than three Montreal Expos. Third place.

Twenty games out of first place by August, fans of Mets and Mets themselves organize Darryl Strawberry Appreciation Day. Fourth place.

Highlight of Philly summer is Lenny Dykstra wearing Al Bundy T-shirt to home plate after losing uniform shirt in all-night card game. Fifth place.

Speaking of Cards, St. Louis Cardinals turn out so lousy, they pack up and move to Phoenix. Sixth place.

NATIONAL LEAGUE WEST

Padres surprisingly good despite serious shortage of Alomars. First place.

Dodgers in race until final day, when Ramon Martinez refuses to pitch, saying, “You don’t want me opening day, you can’t have me closing day.” Second place.

David Justice launches 40 homers from Atlanta pad, demands Cooperstown skip that wait-five-years-before-induction crud. Third place.

Will and Willie and Williams give opponents the willies, but Giants would rather have Mays and McCovey. Fourth place.

Cincinnati bullpen is destroyed when Randy Myers quits baseball to become contra in Nicaragua and Rob Dibble becomes Moonie selling roses on Pete Rose Way street corner. Fifth place.

Houston is Houston. Sixth place.

AMERICAN LEAGUE EAST

Milwaukee looks awful good, because any team with Rick Dempsey can’t be all bad. First place.

Joe Carter bangs several grand slams off windows of Skydome hotel, scaring several Canadian honeymooners. Second place.

Alan Trammell turns double play with Lou Whitaker, complains: “I’m so bored with this. Haven’t we already done this to death?” Third place.

Boston contender into September because Jack Clark-Mike Marshall fight is stopped early by Richard Steele. Fourth place.

Yankees go one for two: Mattingly, yes, but no Maas, no Maas. Fifth place.

Old Ben McDonald belongs on an Oriole farm club, E-I-E-I-O. Sixth place.

Cleveland still in rebuilding century. Seventh place.

AMERICAN LEAGUE WEST

Mark Langston and Chuck Finley shake hands and say: “Look, let’s win 20 apiece now. These other guys are so old, they’ll be real Angels before long.” First place.

Nice new house, nice new occupants, nice new clothes. OK, so they wear White Sox. Second place.

David Letterman sells his share of Mariners because they’re just not funny anymore. Third place.

Oakland goes south; Dave Stewart insists, “We’re still the best team in baseball, I don’t care what place we’re in.” Fourth.

Texas slumps when Nolan Ryan breaks down because nobody can find parts or batteries. Fifth place.

For Minnesota, Jack Morris becomes baseball’s first 20-20 man, wins and losses. Sixth place.

Oh, no, no Bo. Royals flush. Seventh place.

One more development: Lasorda invents marinara milk shake, Dodgers refuse to hug him after games. Film at 11.