Long time readers know we love Brock Holt around here. He was the guy who got spiked in the early moments of our Joe Kelly origin story, he’s a golden retriever in a human body, his kid (Griff, the older one—apologies to the younger one but we haven’t seen you do this yet) is a social media force of nature, dropping bombs while wearing goggles. Brock Holt is a treasure, and the fact he’s a free agent right now is a bummer for baseball.
What’s not a bummer for baseball, or in any respect, is that one of our neighbors looks like Brock Holt. Small mustache, sunglasses, similar face shape, similar head shape, built similarly. He lives in our building, we see him when we’re each walking our dogs (his walks in a straighter line than ours), and this morning he hurriedly tried to open the door to the stairs when we were struggling to open the door to the garage that always gets stuck closed (we need to do a grievance update soon—this door sucks), so I think we’re slowly becoming friends. Hopefully we get to the point where I can go, “Hey, are you a baseball fan?” and he’ll say, “Yeah, I like baseball, why?” and I’ll say, “Has anyone ever told you that you look like Brock Holt?” and he’ll say, “Buddy…I am Brock Holt.”
That’d be cool.
