Not Your Average Spring Training Fluff Piece

Finding the Wife a New Fluffer

By Billy Lybarger

I’m old. No really, I’m just old. The sooner I came to grips with this fact, the easier my life became. Full blown acceptance of this fact has come with its perks, but also with its heartaches. I now park in the handicap parking spaces. I’ve been disabled for nine years. I didn’t get a placard for the first 6 years of my disability (note to you youngsters; Ducatis and ice don’t mix). I figured I could walk, albeit with a serious pimp limp, but I could do it. Once I decided I was old, screw it, and give me the placard. I’m parking in the front row! I also walk with a cane. The cane is cool and all, said nobody ever. But it keeps me from falling and falling sucks worse than parking 7 spots back of the front row.

Now my wife is not old. In fact she is so young she actually makes me younger. I’m not sure what that means or how it works, but she tells me all the time that her being 10 years younger than me makes me younger. I just go with it. I’ve been married almost 20 years; I just go with all kinds of things. Trust me, we have 3 cats. Enough said. So with us being so far apart in age, and in how we feel, naturally this includes being far apart on things like sex. Me, I just go with it. Her, she is hitting her stride. Mid 30’s for a woman is supposed to be the height of her sex life. Well if my wife hasn’t reached her zenith I’m scared. Remember, I’m old. I could break a hip. Again. She is better at everything that we do together, so why shouldn’t our sex lives be par for the course?

Through the years, I noticed that the wife seemed to be way more ready to roll when we watched baseball games together. But it mostly seemed to be when Clayton Richard pitched. I did notice she always asked who was on the mound before deciding if she was going to watch the game with me. Whenever “Pretty Boy” Clayton took his turn, she was all too happy to endure his outing. And endure really became the descriptive term as his career with the Padres flamed out. But I noticed the only thing scoring more than opposing hitters once Clayton toed the rubber was me. I joked with her about it, and she smiled slyly, saying she “never notice.” I’m old, but I’m not dead. I finally confronted her about. “You’re using me to fulfill some twisted Clayton Richard fantasy, aren’t you?” I asked, after I was 4-4 on four consecutive spring starts of his. “Are you seriously complaining about getting laid?” she responded. This was a good point. I conceded that my wife now had a fluffer.

So what is a fluffer? Websters defines … ha! You thought Hacksaw just invaded this post didn’t you? Fluffers are the people that prepare or keep porn stars ready to perform. Now you think I just called my wife a porn star. Remember, she is mid-30s, so she would be in the sub category of MILF. When my wife turned eighteen, her grandmother tried to convince her to be in Playboy. “Chére, you need to go to California, mais have some nice man shoot naked pictures of you to give to the Playboy, bebe.” Unfortunately, my wife decided to go to cosmetology school, and the world lost another bleach blonde haired buxom babe from the soft-core industry. Lucky for me I met my Cajun queen before her grand-mère convinced her to go west and we have been together since she was 19. She tells me every so often that she wonders how her life would have been different if she had just listened to Maw-Maw Blanchard. “You definitely have the mindset for it” is my standard response. “Are you calling me a porn star?” she would boom back at me.   “Remember honey, you are in your mid-30’s, so you would be in the sub category of MILF.” “Hey, why are you throwing my pillows on the couch?”

Last season was a rough one on Clayton Richard. He would pitch, get shelled, and be out of the game by the 4th inning. This made for a perfect set up for me, as he would usually be done by 10:00 pm CST. And the game when Matt Kemp went berserk and wanted to fight Carlos Quentin might have been the ultimate in Clayton’s hotness in my wife’s eyes. Matt Kemp is a big dude. Just look at Clayton stepping in to break up a possible confrontation. Shoot, that night I think we both were so excited from all the swooning we had to smoke a cigarette before going to bed. And we don’t smoke.

The season wore on, and Clayton blew out his shoulder after making 11 starts. 11 wonderfully pathetic starts that I thank him for in earnest. The sad part is prior to this season; Clayton was pretty much a work horse. For the 3 seasons prior to ’13 he averaged 28 starts a year. Alas he began to give up more home runs than Voros McCracken could compute, and the Padres placed him on outright waivers in October. Alas he chose to be a free agent. Thus ended his Padres career as a pitcher and left my poor wife in need of a new pretty boy.

Spring training is here! The pundits are writing fluff pieces and my wife is looking for hers. It’s a revamped roster, and one that many pundits believe could be a dark horse in the NL West. The Mrs. has no idea who the new guys are, and most likely barely remembers the team from last season. But there must be some new colt that can be cut from the herd. She always thought Cory Luebke was a cutie, with his baby face and boyish charm. Alas, the season is lost for him, as he has decided to collect Tommy John surgeries rather than wins. I have noticed her frequent use of the term “you can bounce a quarter off of his hinny” while watching the Olympics this winter. I’m thinking my wife could be an ass-woman. Most likely though, this is a classic case of wanting what you don’t have as I have a 10 year old old-man flat butt. However, I could steer her toward Carlos Quentin. Besides having the best hair on staff, he is built like a brick shit house. The good thing about choosing Quentin as her stead would be the time off he would acquire during the season as Padres skipper Bud Black will most assuredly give Quentin plenty of time off, both resting Quentin’s knee, and my cardio-vascular system. Please remember I am old. If Carlos stays healthy and gets 500 ABs, the Padres will probably reach the playoffs and I would die happy.

Most likely my wife will crush on some youngster I totally didn’t expect. She’ll see Casey Kelly and wonder where has he been hiding? Southpaw Seth Smith will wiggle into a batting stance and she will be smitten. Who knows? It is kind of exciting! In a truly sick and twistedly perverted kind of way, but after twenty years of wedded bliss sick and twisted can work. The only thing I know is spring is near, and love is in the air. I’ll take the fruits of others labor and run with it. No wait, make that walk with it. Like a free pass. You can’t score if you can’t get on base.

Go Pads!

Billy Lybarger is a long-time Padres fan and Aztec alum living in Texas. He can be found on Twitter. Follow me on Twitter too! The Vocal Minority posts on Mondays.

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