The Squeals of 12-Year-Old Girls 

There's going to be something missing next year at Mays Park & Field, an absence of a certain sound in the air. It's a high, piercing sound that often accompanies a short badly-edited snippet of the Who's "We Won't Get Fooled Again." Next year, we will no longer hear the manic squeals of 12-year-old girls whenever J.T. Snow comes to bat.

With J.T. leaving, who could be the new Giant target of tween affection (marketing squad, take note)? Tim Worrell is kinda creepy; Noah Lowry is like, cute, but omigod what's that weird thing near his eye; Randy Winn is hella shy; and Barry Bonds is associated with too many scary adult things, a reminder of what happens when children grow up too fast but don't quite grow up at all.

No one on the current 40-man roster has that necessary combination of smug, I'm-the-high-school-quarterback clean-shaven look; well-proportioned but not over-maculinized body; and cute little ass.

Not that I'm looking. I'm just judging by the squeals that tip off us older guys to what the 12 year olds find, like, totally hot. (Unlike blog fanboys, who have other ideas of what's dreamy.)

Speaking of latent man-love amongst American male archetypes, I couldn't tell for a moment if this latest Rich Draper concoction was an article about Mark Sweeney replacing J.T. or a review of Brokeback Mountain:

They are longtime buddies who played in the Minors together, evolved into big leaguers and talk fairly regularly. They especially share the nuances of that vital first corner territory and love of the game.

Since 1997, J.T. has been forever sweet sixteen to the preteen set, and to hell with the slugging percentage.

This is all a roundabout way of saying goodbye to J.T., gum-chewing BMOC, classic rocker, loyal Giant, monotone pitchman on local radio, and sweet flasher of leather. Nine years is a long time to spend with one team these days, and as much as I grumbled about his warning-track power, I must say they were mostly nine years well spent.

I vividly remember Snow's three-run jack off...I mean, dong...sorry, let's just go with home run off Armando Benitez in the 2000 playoffs; his two-run double to tie game four of the 2002 NLCS; the spring-training beaning by Randy Johnson that left J.T. wriggling in the dirt.

Any fond memories you'd like to share?


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