I just thought I'd chime in on the Harold Reynolds thing.
The word around Bristol was that the, um, friendliness with the ladies was a regular thing with HR. I mean, who doesn't like to be chummy with the women? Of course, when you're married and have a child, maybe you should cut back or be a little more discrete.
I caught a glimpse of his "jockular" personality a few years ago in Houston during All-Star weekend.
I received two extra passes to an event on Saturday night, the night I arrived. A college friend of mine, Laura, and her husband, David, came along. It was just a buffett at a bar, nothing much. But there were some VIPs there, like Jimmy Kimmell and Sarah Silverman. David and I had our picture taken with Miss USA.
There was also a photo booth set up. You put on a glove they provided, stand in front of a green screen and act like you're catching a ball. Then, on the computer, they mesh that picture of you in a crowd with an outfielder also jumping for the ball that's landing in your glove. So the three of us took one.
Then Laura, who's had a few drinks, somehow says that we should do the shot over, but that instead of all three of us lunging for the ball, David should grab her breast. For some reason, he thought that was silly or inappropriate or something. David says, "Dan can do it." I had also had several drinks, so I did it. Laura's all proud of the picture she has of her lunging for the ball, me cupping her breast, and David looking on in surprise.
Then we see Harold Reynolds. Laura, again emboldened by the drinks, takes the picture up to him.
"Hey, Harold, what do you think?" she asks him.
"I don't know if you're going to get it," he replies, meaning the baseball.
"No," she says, "what about him?" And she points to my hand.
"OH YEAH!" Harold says. "He's got it!"
Labels: All-Star Game, Harold Reynolds, Houston