A message from former Houston Astros pitcher Gordy Pladson

By Chad Finn

February 22, 2010

2 minutes to read

Hello. My name is Gordy Pladson. Gordon Cecil Pladson if you’re nasty.

As you may have noticed from my spectacular orange-rainbow jersey, I was a pitcher for the Houston Astros from the 1980s. I knew Nolan Ryan and everything. Though for some reason he always called me Jordy. But no matter. It was a great ride. Even with that career 6.04 ERA. And the zero victories. In parts of four seasons.

Did I mention I gave up eight runs in 1.1 innings in 1982? Well, I didn’t mean to. So forget you heard it from me. If you’re going to remember anything about Gordy Pladson, remember this: No one had a bigger chaw than me. No one. And don’t believe Enos Cabell when he tells you otherwise.

I am also a proud native of British Columbia. New Westminster born and raised. Which brings us to why I’m here today.

As you may have noticed, the pasty-faced doofus who usually frequents this neighborhood has gone AWOL for a few weeks. Or maybe you did not notice — really, who would blame you, eh? He’s so nerdy about baseball, he even remembered me.

Anyway, I am here to tell you today that the reason for his absence is a simple one, and easily explained. He is in my homeland, helping to chronicle the Winter Olympics from the great city of Vancouver for The Boston Globe and Boston.com.

He is having a swell time, writing about Seth Wescott, Apolo Anton Ohno, Jim Craig, some behind-the-scenes stuff, Olympic television coverage, and even doing a hockey chat or two.

I think he likes it here. He keeps saying he wants to come back with his family someday. Vancouver does that to people, you know.

But he also wants you to know, that like me, he misses baseball. And he gave me this message to pass along. Let me find it here . . . oh, yes, here it is . . he says there’s no way Tim Wakefield gets a starting rotation spot unless Dice-K has a Burger King relapse, and . . . let’s see . . . Tito is certifiable if he plans on playing Jason Varitek five times per week.

I do not know this Tito he speaks of. But I’m pretty sure I could slip the ol’ heater past Varitek. And I’m 53. And I gave up eight runs in 1.1 innings in 1982.

That’s about it. Chad will be back in early March, perhaps sooner. In the meantime, you can find him right here on the off-chance you miss the goofy hoser.