As the tears of all those you have seen today probably told you, Curt Schilling announced his retirement today on his blog, 38pitches.com. Below is what Schilling posted on his blog in black. What his agent edited out of his first draft is in red.
“Turn out the lights, the party’s over” (<— That’s what she said.)
I used to wait with bated breath for Don Meredith I used to masturbate for Don Meredith to start singing that on “Monday Night Football.” Normally, it was sweet music if the Steelers were playing. (Unless the Steelers were bad that season. Then I rooted for someone else.)
If I could get him to sing it again, I would. (Return my calls, Don! I won’t be ignored by a “Dandy”!) This party has officially ended. After being blessed to experience 23 years of playing professional baseball in front of the world’s best fans (and liberals) in so many different places, it is with zero regrets that I am making my retirement official. (Unless there is a team who would like to offer me a guaranteed 1-year, $16 million contract.)
To say I’ve been blessed would be like calling Refrigerator Perry “a bit overweight.” (Or like calling me “a bit overweight,” now that I think about it.) The things I was allowed to experience (, like non-gay group showers with other men, elephant walks and countless ass-grabs) , the people I was able to call friends (– coloreds!), teammates, mentors, coaches and opponents, the travel, all of it, are far more than anything I ever thought possible in my lifetime. (I now know anything is possible! Dreams can come true! An all-Republican House, Senate, presidency and Supreme Court by 2012?!?!)
Four World Series, three World Championships. That there are men with plaques in Cooperstown who never experienced one (– suck it, oldies!) — and I was able to be on three teams over seven years that won it all — is another “beyond my wildest dreams” set of memories I’ll take with me. (Another memory of those teams: all the steroids my teammates took to make them good enough to win it all.)
The game always gave me far more than I ever gave it. (Seriously. I made well over a hundred million dollars, I only played every fifth day and I was always grossly out of shape.) All of those things, every single one of those memories is enveloped with fan sights and sounds for me. (Like: “Go, Curt!” Or more often: “You suck, Schilling! You’re a moron! No one cares what you think about anything!”) Without the fans, they would still be great memories, but none would be enduring and unforgettable because they infused the energy, rage, passion and “feel” of all of those times. (Thanks to all the female fans who let me “feel” their tits.) The game was here long before I was, and will be here long after I’m gone. (Although I’m going to keep demanding my opinion be heard on each and every issue that comes up, no matter how small.) The only thing I hope I did was never put in question my love for the game, or my passion to be counted on when it mattered most. I did everything I could to win every time I was handed the ball. (Except hit. The American League rules for old, fat pitchers.)
I am and always will be more grateful than any of you could ever possibly know. (Because you are dumb and can’t comprehend my capacity for gratitude. I do everything better than everyone. Including being grateful.)
I want to offer two special thank you’s.
To my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for granting me the ability to step between the lines for 23 years and compete against the best players in the world. (And also catholics, muslims, jews and atheists. Enjoy hell, you guys!)
To my wife Shonda and my 4 children, Gehrig, Gabriella, Grant and Garrison for sacrificing their lives and allowing baseball to be mine while I played. (I know I didn’t give you kids the option of sacrificing your lives, per se — you are little kids and not capable of such a decision; plus, I never asked — but thanks anyway!) Without their unquestioned support I would not have been able to do what I did, or enjoy the life, and I am hopefully going to live long enough to repay them as much as a Father and Husband can. (As long as you show me PROPER RESPECT by capitalizing my name and all of my titles. Do you hear Me?!)
Thank you and God Bless
PS – Look at me! I’m doing and saying something interesting RIGHT NOW! Send a camera crew.