Alright, I give up.  I am conceding.  I am throwing in the towel. Raising the white flag.  I am (insert similar idiom pertaining to somebody no longer participating in an activity here).  I am not giving up on the Angels’ season in 2012, of course.  I am conceding the fact that Carly Rae Jepsen and her stupidface song “Call Me, Maybe” just will not go away.  It will be metaphorically carved into my skull forever in a very, unpleasant “Inglorious Basterds” type of way.  Unfortunately, it appears as though, this song may have more staying power than the “Macarena.” Lo siento, Los del Rio.

 For the blessed few that do not know this song, it combines the voice of a twenty six year old woman with lyrics often heard on middle school lunch benches.  But it is so godforsaken catchy that every establishment in the world plays it.  And yes, I do mean the WORLD.  It is in every restaurant, every karaoke bar, and every church gospel of all religions is required to sing it on Sundays. 

 I would be lying to you if I said that I have never sung it.  The song slowly and methodically breaks down your brain’s ability to fight the intrusion of unwanted invaders.  To the more cultured crowd, I will put it this way. If you are Clubber Lang, then this song is Rocky Balboa from Rocky III: it will just let your brain fight and fight until you are no longer able to, and then it will punch you in the stomach repeatedly until your mohawk hits the floor of the boxing ring.  You are my favorite person if you understood this reference.

 There.  I have successfully bridged the gap between the demographic the song is targeting, with the target demographic of an Angels blog.  Everybody should now understand how annoying and pesky this song is to your brain.  There is no sense in fighting this song any longer, hence my concession.  So, as the old saying goes, if you can’t beat them, join them.

 I regret to inform you, the loyal readers of my monthly aimless ramblings, that I have, in fact, joined Carly Rae Jepsen in writing a song to this mindnumblingly repetitive, brain-destroying melody.  Before you exit this page immediately (if you haven’t already), there is a silver lining.  My version is about everybody’s favorite golden boy, Mike Trout!  In other words, this version of the song may make your head only explode into a thousand pieces, rather than millions. 

 If Mike Trout can fix this song, he deserves every available Olympic medal.  Not just the gold ones, all of them.  Try to enjoy it.  If you can’t bear the sound the above-linked video makes, sing it to yourself a cappella.  Do whatever you have to do to keep your sanity.  Good luck. The song is called:

 

Definitely NOT Call Me Maybe

--Mercifully written by Kevin Lappin

 

We had a fish the field,

In Triple A he was concealed

We told Abreu to yield

And screamed “YOU’RE IN HIS WAY”

 

Sorry Bobby but this fish

Deserves nothing short of a kiss

We weren’t planning for this

But you were in his way.

 

Your morale started hurtin’

An Angels teen’s fins were showin’

In Cleveland, we sent you home and

THAT’S WHEN WE MET MIKE TROUT BABY!

 

Hey!  We just met you,

And you’re just twenty,

But here’s our franchise,

So save us, baby

 

You’re way better than

Bryce Harper, baby

So here’s our franchise,

So playoffs, maybe?

 

Hey!  We just met you,

And you’re just twenty,

But here’s our franchise,

So save us, baby

 

And all the other teams,

Want you baby

But here’s our franchise,

Let’s win a ring, baby

 

You hit every baseball,

I am glad that we made that call,

To bat you leadoff this fall,

Now, nothing’s in your way

 

You can hit, field, and steal

I can’t believe that you’re real

You’re not just a dinner meal

I’d never eat you anyway

 

Ninety-one you were born in,

All 5 tools are clearly showin’

You will never stop scorin’

THAT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE MIKE TROUT BABY

 

Hey!  We just met you,

And you’re just twenty,

But here’s our franchise,

So save us, baby

 

You’re way better than

Bryce Harper, baby

So here’s our franchise,

So playoffs, maybe?

 

Hey!  We just met you,

And you’re just twenty,

But here’s our franchise,

So save us, baby

 

And all the other teams,

Want you baby

But here’s our franchise,

Let’s win a ring, baby

 

Before you came to Anaheim,

We were so bad

We were so bad

We were so, so bad

 

Before you came to Anaheim

We were in last,

We were in last,

We were in, in last

 

And all the other teams

Want you baby,

But here’s our franchise,

You saved us, baby

 

Hey!  We just met you,

And you’re just twenty,

But here’s our franchise,

So save us, baby

 

You’re way better than

Bryce Harper, baby

So here’s our franchise,

So playoffs, maybe?

 

Now that you came to Anaheim

We’ll win the west,

We’ll win the west,

We’ll win, will win the west

 

Now that you came to Anaheim

We can win it back

And Texas knows that

 

You saved us baby!