Guess who is finally returning to the PWBL?

The answer, of course, is one of our intrepid reporters, none other than Cool Whip. Long presumed dead, he recently contacted the league with a new exclusive player interview. You can find it below, for your reading pleasure.

Como estan bitches? Your boy Cool Whip is back from his unintentionally drawn out Mexican vacation, mostly intact, and with a brand new identity (by the way if anyone asks, im Ready Whip now). Let me tell you, you think the after effects of Chipotle are bad, just try having a balloon full of coke explode in your lower intestine while Miguel is grilling you about if you cracked for the Federales. Oh and that reminds me, Pete your cousin says, “Hola.” But let’s get down to business. It’s not my newly enlarged colon you’re all here for (DiGioia excluded), it’s my new scoop. And I’ve been back in Los Estados Unidos just long enough to get one for ya. And as all things do, it starts with a decades old question that has burned in the hearts of men.

“Where’s the beef?”

Everyone remembers the Wendy’s ad campaign from the 90’s. And apparently we have found the answer. It’s the PWBL. Let’s face it, this league is a sausage fest. Aside from the Teen Disney extras that Maniscalco occasionally flaunts around, and Tony Gunz’s wife, who is apparently running the PWBL daycare in left field, there is not another female presence in this league. Now that it has gone on for far too long and has gotten way out of hand, President Obama himself has finally decided to act, declaring it a national disaster, and has asked this intrepid reporter to find the top men in the country to remedy the situation. Luckily I had to look no further than within the League’s own ranks to find an expert on raking in the ladies, and so I sought out this Yoda-like pimp, both to help alleviate the overflowing testosterone levels at FSK on Sundays, and for an exclusive interview.

I tracked our subject down at Liberty’s – a regular haunt for him, where after honing his beer pong skills he deftly swooped in and picked up BOTH chicks that Tim Trenary and Dakota Kenny were trying to take home. Apparently their plastic game is better than their actual game, not that that should be surprising, given the number of inflatable toys Trenary owns. Yeah, the “lady raft’ is your daughter’s pool toy. Sure it is, Trenary.  But I digress, we have a real man to get to. Today’s featured PWBLer is none other than T.J. Beninati.

Known throughout the league for his sweet swing, top notch trash talking, and all around love for the game, this up and comer is the future of the PWBL. He at first seemed wary of my approach, clearly preparing one of his famous verbal beat downs in the event I was attempting to procure one of his lady friends from his company.  But when he saw me whip it out (my note pad you fairies, don’t get excited yet,) he eased up and recognized me for the ruggedly handsome beat writer known throughout the League for my player features. He excused himself from the ladies and told me I had two minutes, so I fired as quickly as possible (now why is this starting to sound like my Friday nights?)

Anyway, with a limited time frame, I had to start off with the question everyone is dying to know. “So T.J., when is the PWBL going to see you playing in an official capacity? You’ve been at most of the Royal’s games the past two years before bringing your talents to the Athletics organization. Any inside scoop on when they will be bringing you up?” He was clearly prepared for this question, but it still was obvious to this reporter that he was not happy about the answer. “Truth is I shoulda been up last year. You put my bat in the Royals lineup and my gun on the mound last season and it would be me holding up that silver bucket and not those three stooges on the Giants.“

I dug deeper.

“And yet you never logged an official game. What’s the deal? Rumor had it that was due to salary arbitration and not wanting you to be free agent eligible for other teams” “You want to know what the deal is? It’s fear. The Old Man didn’t want me coming up and embarrassing him. I tell him all the time how many more homeruns than him I’m hitting down in the minors, but that stuff is amateur hour. He doesn’t want me to show him up.” When I inquired why “The Old Man” would be worried about that, the reply was quick. “Because he knows once I get up in this league it’s game over, man. First I take the team over from him. Then the pizza place. Next thing he knows he’s in a retirement home, refreshing palisadeswbl.com every two minutes to see if there are any new videos of “his” old ballclub.  Telling other adult diaper wearing has-beens about ‘the glory days’.”

Having discussed his presence with the League, I needed to get down to the real business before my time was up. “T.J., the real reason I am here is the, uh, ratio problem going on with the League. There are just way too many dudes there on game day and I wanted to ask the expert how we can get some more lady-fans to show.” He half smirked, turned around, snapped his fingers at the girls, and put on his jacket to leave. “Don’t you worry, when I get up in this league soon, you’ll have to put up higher fences to keep all the ladies out. Now I’ve been more than generous giving you my time here. Tell the League they are on notice. I’m about to take that shit over.” He proceeded to stroll out of the bar, one lady on each arm, while Trenary and Kenny drank themselves into a stupor, resigning themselves to yet another night of bromance as the ladies slipped away.

So there it is, uh, gentlemen and gentlemen. The inside scoop on one T.J. Beninati. Get ready for the next big thing in wiffleball, because you’ve all been put on notice.