No Belle of This Ballgame

Albert Belle and associates of Albert Belle recently claimed that the reason Albert Belle gets such terrible publicity is that Albert Belle refuses to give interviews to reporters, who hate Albert Belle because they all secretly wish they could be Albert Belle.

Thinking they might be right, I decided to take this opportunity today to tell Albert Belle:

Go jump in Lake Erie, you mean, miserable, nasty, no-class, bad-act, cork-batted, screw-loose, psycho-basepathic, make-Ty Cobb-look-like-Katie Couric, role-muddled, Halloween-hating, trick-or-treater-threatening, personality-minus, couldn’t-carry-Hank Aaron’s-helmet, designated-dysfunctional Louisville slug.

There are two Belles cracked in this country, the other one being the Liberty.

I would rather be Albert Einstein, Albert Schweitzer, Albert Brooks, Marv Albert, Eddie Albert, Fat Albert, Prince Albert in a Can, Buddy Bell or Clarabell than be this dumbbell. Albert Belle is Babe Ruth, without the sophistication. He is Jimmy Piersall, without the padded room. He is Dennis Rodman, without the padded bra.

Let’s recap some of Bad Albert’s activities, shall we?

(Remember, each of these incidents would have been overlooked, if only Albert had given an interview.)

--Belle’s bat was confiscated for cork.

--Belle threw a baseball at a fan.

--Belle chased trick-or-treating children with his car.

--Belle threw a baseball at a photographer.

--Belle screamed at a woman from NBC.

--Belle was ordered to undergo counseling.

And now, there’s this latest imbroglio, which is baseball lingo for “Albert’s at it again.”

A fan in the stands caught Albert’s home run. Albert asked for the ball back, Albert being a sentimental fella.

Albert is saving all the balls, in case he hits more homers than Roger Maris or the Babe. Albert is hitting lots of homers for the Cleveland Indians, who expect Albert to hit 70 homers if Albert can stay off the disabled list, 65 homers if he can stay off the most-wanted list and 60 homers if he can still swing a bat wearing a straitjacket.

Agreeably, the fan brought the ball back to Albert. All the fan asked in return was for a different baseball, autographed by Albert. It would be a wonderful souvenir to have, so that someday this man could show his grandchildren a baseball autographed by the man who made “class” a household word, if only in other people’s households.

Albert said uh-uh.

“No.” “Bye.” “Get lost.” “Go away.” “Just give me my ball.” “Now scram.” “See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya.” “What letter don’t you understand--the ‘N’ or the ‘O?’ ”

At least, that’s how it sounded to the fan.

An autograph?

For what? For giving up a souvenir from one of the greatest players in the game? For bringing the ball from the left-field stands all the way to the visiting team’s clubhouse? Yes, much like Will Rogers, Albert Belle never met a fan he didn’t like.

Albert explained that the fans in the left-field stands were taunting him all night, so just drop off the baseball in my locker and have a nice summer.

Well, even the Cleveland Indians were so mortified this time that they offered the guy tickets to Cleveland games, Cleveland merchandise, equipment autographed by other Cleveland players, and, I think, four season tickets to Cleveland Cavalier basketball games, to which the guy, I think, replied: “Make that two season tickets.”

Cleveland should be a fun, fun place this September, as Bad Albert approaches the Babe’s homer total for 154 games and Rajah’s for 162. I figure he should hit No. 60 by, oh, around Labor Day, after which I intend to personally stand next to Albert’s locker after every game and say: “I want an interview!” “May I please have an interview?” “Interview! Interview! Interview!”

I wish somebody would give me an Albert Belle autographed baseball.

I would run right out and buy a dog, so he would have something to play with.