You know, built bottom heavy, a little on the round side, an enduring three-day scruff, rakishly unapplied shirt buttons, the hours in a crouch that may or may not be totally attractive from behind.
All says plumber.
But the forearms, the lower half of a built-in dishwasher, loopy smile, affable manner, the lumberjack swing, all says ballplayer too. Says catcher. Says throw the ball and I'll put a savage hack on it and we'll find out who's the better man.
So along comes Napoli on Sunday night in a swirling pitchers' duel, Game 4 of the World Series, the Texas Rangers' season a kitchen floor six inches flooded, no real harm yet, but getting soggy.
Napoli was batting eighth, really the last resort, in that spot because Rangers manager Ron Washington was compelled to split up his back-end left-handed hitters, not because Napoli looks – or performs – anything like a No. 8 hitter.
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