The Huntsville Times
2038-09-19
The most-hated man in Huntsville is gone.
Mutsuhito Imai, the talented but reviled relief pitcher who spent the last two seasons toiling out of the Phantoms bullpen, was put on waivers last week and word came through Saturday that he’d been claimed by the Louisville Sluggers.
Imai gone to Louisville
“Oh thank God,” said a visibly relieved Luis Barrera, Huntsville’s star catcher. “He was such a jerk. No one – and I mean no one – in the clubhouse could stand to be around him.”
Sources close to the Phantoms front office said General Manager Vic Caleca was finding it hard to get players to even discuss contract extensions, citing clubhouse turmoil as a reason. And the reason for the turmoil always came down to one thing: Mutsuhito Imai.
“He was a fairly decent relief pitcher – although, given scouting evaluations of his talent level, I think you could argue that he underachieves,” one scout said. “But still, he was decent. Even so, he most definitely was not worth the grief he caused. Decent relief pitchers can always be found, so he was expendable with a capital E.”
One member of the Phantoms coaching staff said he’d taken an informal poll of the players who have not yet left town for the offseason, and the results had been unanimous: relief.
So, what did Imai do that was so objectionable?
“Well,” Barrera said, “let me turn that around. What did he do that wasn’t objectionable? Let me give you an example: I went through a rough stretch late in the season where I was exhausted and not feeling real great and I went 0 for 20. It sucked. I sucked. I knew it, and I was dying a little every day. Most teammates would try to pick you up in a situation like that. But Mutsuhito taped the box scores, with my 0-fers circled, above my locker every day.
Barrera relieved
“I asked him, nicely, to cut it the f*#k out, but he wouldn’t. ‘Get hits and I stop,’ he told me. So, that was the day I tossed his nice new iPhone XXXIV in the urinal.”
And then, added third baseman Victor Bedolla, there was the smell.
The smell?
“Yeah,” Bedolla said. “Imai always kept old tuna fish sandwiches in his locker. And here’s the thing – he didn’t eat tuna fish. He just knew that awful, awful smell grossed out Esteban Velásquez, who had the locker next to him. The clubhouse attendants would pitch them out, but there'd be another one the next day.”
Velásquez held his nose and nodded in agreement: “Every day, almost. Disgusting. I couldn't stand to be in the clubhouse.”
Now, the talk is about the poor players in Louisville who will have to endure Imai’s antics.
“They have no idea what is heading their way,” Velásquez said. “I feel bad for them. Maybe we should take up a collection or something.”
A collection for what, Velásquez was asked.
“I don’t know. Sympathy cards, maybe. Or a case of Glade air freshener.”
