J.D. Drew is the gold standard of the modern-day professional athlete. He can hit the ball a country mile, he has a ‘shark with a frickin’ laser beam attached to its forehead’ for an arm, and he can run like Charlie Weis to the ‘2 Taquitos for 99c’ special at 7-11. And to top it all off, he has the competitive drive and heart of the average Frenchman. But does it really matter? His next contract is set to pay him somewhere in the neighborhood of 56 million dollars over the next four years. All this for a guy who has persevered and fought through injury and sickness to average about 110 games a season in his eight-year career.
There is no doubt that this guy can play ball when he is not injured, lactating, menstruating, faking, or just flat our uninterested. But when the hell has this been the case in his entire career? Of course we remember this is the same guy who refused to sign with the Phillies out of Florida State because they wouldn’t offer him the guaranteed 10 million that he and his agent Scott Boras thought he deserved. So he went back to school and was drafted #1 the next year by the Cardinals, and of course they paid him. They paid him that money for him be often injured and even more often uninterested. After he wore out his welcome as the prototypical spoiled, silver-spoon athlete in St. Louis, he bounced around and made about $8 million a year to be the same player he always was. Now he is up for a new contract and again he will walk (or limp) to the bank with a smile on his face knowing that he is the modern-day Jesse James with a batting helmet instead of a bandana. Drew did have a good season last year, with 100 RBIs and a .280 average, but guess what idiots, it was a contract year.
There is definitely something to be said for the contract year in sports, especially when speaking of J.D. “Al Capone” Drew. Before you get pissed about this reference, understand that this is organized crime. J.D. Drew and many other athletes are giving about 75% of their effort for the first years of 
their contracts and then making up for it with Herculean efforts right before they have to negotiate for a new contract. Well why don’t we do the same thing in the real world. So, if you are a construction worker and someone bitches at you for leaning on your shovel all day, tell him it’s not a contract year. If you are a doctor and a patient is unhappy with the anti-depressants you prescribed their child for asthma, tell them you are sorry Timmy shot up the school and then tell them it’s not a contract year. If you are white police officer and the chief tells you that you haven’t reached your racial profiling quota this quarter, tell him it’s not a contract year. If you are a pedophile by trade and the neighborhood kids feel safe playing kickball in street, don’t worry, it isn’t a contract year. Refer your supervisors or patients or parole officer to J.D. Drew. If Drew sandbags for a contract year and athletes are role models, what else could you be expected to do? J.D is a pioneer, inspiring thousands, including Chris Henry, who already has four arrests in this contract year alone.
The message for the kids from J.D. Drew’s career is this: with enough talent at anything, whether it is baseball, playing the violin, or singing (even Taylor Hanson, of “Hanson” fame, phoned-in a couple verses of Mmm Bop) you can give about 50% effort and still be pretty successful.
Angry T
Popularity: unranked [?]
