Milton Bradley : Life in Chicago, Not a Board Game

Milton Bradley.  When I was a young lad, that name often meant late nights of entertainment.  Long before I discovered alcohol and women, my friends and I would play the game Operation.  

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When I discovered alcohol, I discovered this outfit.  It did not help me discover women.

Many moons before Al Gore invented the internet, my gang would gather and play these “board games.” We would take turns removing Cavity Sam’s funny bone with more precision than any educated surgeon.  We would mock those who caused Sam’s nose to become inflamed and laugh along with that terrifying buzzing sound.

Unfortunately, those pleasant memories have no relation to the Milton Bradley featured in this post.  However, this fella may make you wonder if he needs some sort of operation (lobotomy?).

A mercurial ballplayer, known more for his outbursts than his production on the field, Bradley earned a reputation as a bit of a hothead.  Here are some highlights (lowlights?).

While there were many examples of this (the time he got hurt arguing, throwing bottles at fans, throwing a bag of baseballs onto the field, etc.), there was one special moment where he was on the receiving end of screaming, from the fans.

One bright summer Chicago day, Bradley manned the right field for the Cubs.  A lazy fly ball was hit in his direction.  After having already dropped one pop up earlier in the game (among other miscues), he positioned himself to catch the ball.  As he caught the ball, he sighed as if to say “whew”.  Then, he turned to the bleachers and tossed the ball to a lucky fan. Unfortunately, he lacked situational awareness.  At the time, there was only one out. He had thrown a live ball into the stands.  

As was to be expected, his time in Chicago was short.  His career did not last much longer after that.  He had one more stop in Seattle.  He then was unceremoniously released, ending his professional baseball career.  

When he discussed his time in Chicago, he likened it to that of a prisoner.  He may have made that claim too soon, as he is currently serving three years in a Los Angeles jail as a result of a spousal abuse conviction.

I wonder if he feels the same way now?  I’ve heard Los Angeles jails are lovely (I particularly enjoyed the review of the daycare facility).

Fortunately for the good people of Chicago, this jackass is an afterthought.  Unfortunately, for the inmates in the L.A. county jail, they have one argumentative roommate to play board games with.

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