I despise Randy Johnson

Rat-faced, mullet wearing jerk Randy Johnson recently won his 300th game, which means now is as good a time as any to explain why, to paraphrase Newman, I despise Randy Johnson.

It was spring of 1992 in Arizona and some friends and I had just seen him pitch in a spring training game. He was no star then. He hadn't even won 50 games in the bigs, and his only claim to fame was that he was the tallest pitcher ever to take the hill. The game was unremarkable--I have no recollection of how he did or whether the Mariners even won or lost the game. But I had a scorecard or program from the game with me when we went to grab a post-game burger at Flakey Jake's in Tempe. I spotted Randy at a nearby table and, as a big baseball fan, I thought it would be cool to get him to autograph something from the game on the same day I saw him pitch. I didn't want to bother him, so I waited patiently by the door until he was done eating. At the door, I politely said that I had watched him play and I wondered if he would sign my program. "God, you guys never leave us alone," he spat.

What a dick.