My fiancée might be Shelley Duncan’s biggest fan.  Every time he comes to bat, we must stop what we’re doing, and watch silently to the end of the plate appearance.  All it takes is one mention of the sobriquet “Dunc-a-Dunc” and she lights up like 12 year old at a Justin Bieber concert.

I’m not quite sure about the roots of this obsession, and I have more than once asked her whether I should take her fawning description of his canine facial features as something I should be worried about.  After all, if Shelley Duncan approximates her definition of “handsome”, my self-esteem tends go in the toilet. [Read more...]