Strange player injuries are part of the territory when it comes to following sports. Hell, they’re part of the territory for most any public figure, because humans do a lot of weird and dumb things and harm themselves in embarrasing ways. Spencer Torkelson, the Tigers’ best prospect and the 13th-ranked prospect in all of baseball, has joined the procession after serrating his own right index finger while trying to cut open a can of beans. That explanation, the initial one given when the news surfaced last week Torkelson would be out of games for a bit, is already amusing.
But on Thursday the 21-year-old broke his silence on the situation and revealed some crucial new details that booker investigation.
A few notes. First, “the boys were hungry” should become a gender-neutral, catch-all explanative. Break your clavicle and swear it had nothing to do with an ATV ride, but instead was the result of falling whilst lugging venison up the stairs? “The boys were hungry.” Miss a few games one August after getting frostbite on your leg, the product of falling asleep with an icepack on? “The boys were hungry.” Put in a contact lens after making nachos with the works, including jalapeños, and miss a game due to the resultant agony? “The boys were hungry.” Do all these stories (except the Henderson one, which is strictly relatable to migraine and other pain sufferers) have in common a core of man-childishness, exasperating if endearing? Sure, welcome to MLB. Then there’s the matter of the salsa.
If you’re from many parts of the country or world, the notion of salsa with beans might strike you as odd. To my mind, salsa has a base of tomatoes or tomatilloes, generally blended or else chopped. Beans don’t really fit into that equation. Let’s go to the favorite tool of everyone who’s ever stared down a sparse fridge with an industrious spirit, allrecipes.com’s ingredient-filtered recipe search.
Right, Torkelson went to ASU. Tex-Mex it is! Given that he’d also been serving up stir-fry to housemates Jake Rogers and Riley Greene, it’s at least good to know the club’s top two prospects have access to cooking appearing to offer healthfulness and variety. A crucial point, after perusing a number of these recipes: corn and black bean salsa is usually served chilled; the most popular recipes my search returned called for the contents to be refrigerated overnight. Those that didn’t tended to call for at least one hour for the ingredients to chill out and get to know one another. An hour in which Torkelson and co. could have gone to the Wal-Mart that, as he helpfully pointed out in his interview, was a five-minute drive away.
It’s possible the players were not in a fit state to drive, in which case I applaud their choice of safety, but as a million ads every single day in every medium of interaction that constitutes your existence will tell you, you can get it delivered! Minor league players, even after recent pay increases, are still compensated shamefully poorly, but Torkelson and Greene have been the Tigers’ first selections in the last two drafts, the former first and the latter fifth overall. Between them they earned signing bonuses of $14,597,000, enough to spring for delivery on the night someone brought home beans without a pop tab. Or hell, have someone deliver you a can opener!
It’s hard to be too critical of the young players—anyone who’s ever googled “how to open a bottle of wine without a corkscrew” has forfeited their right of judgement. On the other hand, this is a long way to go for Tex-Mex! What was this salsa, most commonly used to adorn chips while customers pound a margarita before ordering a meal they’ll be too full for, such an essential accoutrement to? Were they trying to do a home Chipotle station, and it just wouldn’t feel like ASU to Spencer without the fibrous mix of corn and beans? Someone must love bland salsa. Lastly, I understand the provisions in a short-term rental might not be robust. But a serrated knife, for cutting open a can? A baseball player should have a better apprehension of the critical link between tool and toolsman.
Torkelson doesn’t want anyone to worry—“we got a can opener before I got the stitches put in,” he assured. On the one hand, good. On the other hand, that he felt the need to make this statement raises further questions. Could he otherwise envision a similar situation recurring in the future? How often is he struck with a bean-hunger this relentless, this overwhelming? If I needed stitches in such a fashion, I would genuinely consider an ascetic lifestyle devoid of cans lacking pop tabs. Not Torkelson, clearly, and who are we to judge if corn salsa is what got him to this point?
Alright, I gotta go. I’d pursue this further but the boys are hungry.
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