Step back, George Brett. The Seattle Times’ Greg Bishop declares Mariners reliever Eddie Guardado, the Prankmeister Supreme. And now we know what’s wrong with Christian Guzman.
Cristian Guzman could not stop itching. This went on for four days, until he found himself on the shoulder of a Minnesota freeway, outside of his car, scratching at his underwear like a man with the worst case of chicken pox in human history. The next day Guzman queried clubhouse attendants about the shampoo and soap they used in the team shower.
His Minnesota Twins teammates had heard enough. They started laughing, cackling, crying, falling on the ground. And right then, Guzman knew.
Mariners closer Eddie Guardado had struck again.
“He used to take people’s cars and hide them down the street,” says Matt Lawton, Guardado’s friend and teammate in Minnesota and now Seattle. “He put peanut butter in people’s shoes, hot sauce in their jocks.
“He’s got some classics. He’s the best I’ve ever seen. He’ll stay up late at night, plotting things to do.”
The David Ortiz story: “He goes, ‘Where’s my shorts?’ I go, ‘Look in the freezer. They’re nice and folded ”and hard as a rock. ‘So his focus was on the shorts. Well, I lined the inside of his jeans with peanut butter. He didn’t even notice. Peanut butter all up on him. I was crying, man. The reaction of the people, that’s where you get your humor.”