The Hollywood, California picture-show movie executive thought he was making a demand that would be met. “You’ll play yourself,” he thundered at Keith Hernandez and then offered a liver-spotted hand.
Hernandez took a long, measured pull on his Yves Saint Laurent luxury cigarette, held it for a moment, exhaled slowly, and let the silence do the work for him. “I’m not going to play myself,” he told the Hollywood, California picture-show movie executive and then leaned forward to put out his Yves Saint Laurent luxury cigarette on the Hollywood, California picture-show movie executive’s liver-spotted hand. “That’s because I’m not myself.”
Keith Hernandez rose from the table, perched high-end shades on the bridge of his nose, buttoned the top button of his camelhair blazer with the other hand, and then with a third, spectral hand retrieved a pearl-handled .38 from his sock. A narrating voice — the voice of Hollywood, California actor Jason Robards — began to intone the following:
“Keith Hernandez was right. He was not himself, and these motherfuckers needed to know that. Keith Hernandez is essence. He is … musk. But he is not himself. Yes, he’ll be in the Brendan Fraser-Albert Brooks smoldering turd known as ‘The Scout,’ but he’s not going to play himself. This is because he’s not himself. All the other ballplayers, managers and broadcasters can play themselves, but Keith Hernandez is going to play … Keith Hernandez. Now it’s time for Keith Hernandez to get laid on an Air France Concorde.”
Keith Hernandez, you see, is not himself.
(Love shall be made to @theiri for bringing this to the author’s attention)
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