Pants-Less Ballplayer Soon To Be The Butt Of Many Jokes

You know how when you're leaving on a trip, and you're in somewhat of a rush, and you get in your car and drive off, how you sometimes get the sense that you've forgotten something? And it gnaws at you, because you're certain you forgot something - but you can't figure out what it is. Wallet? House keys?

Well, former major league infielder Jose Lind found himself in that position earlier several days ago. He went out for a drive, and he forgot something.

Who can guess what it is?

I'll give you a minute.

OK, who among you guessed? According to The Associated Press, Lind was pulled over by state troopers near Tampa. Police approached his Toyota Land Cruiser, and inside, they say, they found a gram of cocaine and seven cans of beer. Lind, they said, was "extremely inebriated."

"The reason we didn't do a field sobriety test on the side of the road," trooper Harley Franks reported, "was because he had no pants."

No pants. No underpants. Jose was naked from the waist down.

I wonder what the police said when they read him his rights?

"You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to representation by an attorney. You have the right to call Kuppenheimer's . . ."

I hope Lind had the presence of mind to come up with creative excuses for why he might be driving pants-less. If he was thinking clearly, he might have said:

1. "I'm a professional baseball player, and I do this to toughen my groin for line drives."

2. "I donated my pants to the Policeman's Benevolent Association."

3. "I am indeed wearing pants. Can't you see them? Officer, have you been drinking?"

4. "I beg your pardon. I am going to the bathroom, and I would appreciate a little privacy."

5. "In my native country, it's an insult to question a man about the whereabouts of his pants. I'm afraid I'm going to have to demand satisfaction. En garde!"

(Actually, this whole thing might work out nicely for Lind. I can see him getting a TV commercial out of this. There could be a re-enactment of the arrest, and this time, Lind steps out of the car - and he's naked except on his behind is the patch from No Excuses jeans.)

I know what you're thinking: What was he thinking?

Making a name for himself

I myself have gone out of my house without pants; I have run out in a robe or a raincoat early in the morning to pick up the newspaper. Perhaps Mr. Lind did the same thing and then simply forgot he had nothing on but a sweatshirt - because, you know, it's warm in Tampa, and nobody wears a lot of clothes - and he got in his car and . . . this won't work, will it?

No, Jose Lind has entered that rarefied real estate in American cheeseball infamy heretofore occupied only by one Mr. Gerard Finneran, the guy who relieved himself on the airline beverage cart.

Maybe Jose thought he could get away with it. Maybe he thought nobody would notice. Guys think they are invisible when they are behind the wheels of their cars, as anyone can attest who has ever seen a guy at a red light excavating a nostril as though it were the catacombs at Halicarnassus.

The other day, immediately after my editor and I expressed disbelief at how someone could actually get into his car and start driving without his pants on, I was walking in the hall, and the first person I saw was my friend Paul - and I emphasize he was the first person I saw. Paul asked me what I was writing about, and I said, Jose Lind.

A beach bum

"The ballplayer?" Paul said.

"Right, the ballplayer. He was caught driving around without his pants on!"

"I've done that," Paul said.

"What???"

Then, Paul proceeded to tell me about going with his wife and son to the beach at the appropriately named Assateague Island. At the end of the day, while his wife and son used the public shower, Paul decided to play a joke on them. And he got into his car, took off his bathing suit and started driving around naked.

"Ha ha," Paul said. "What a riot it was!"

I did not say anything.

"See," Paul explained, enthusiastically, "from above the steering wheel I just looked like another beach goer, so when a cop passed . . . "

He paused.

I did not say anything. But I was taking notes.

"Er, this is going to cost me that Cabinet secretary's job, isn't it?" Paul asked.

Uh huh.

Except not in the Jose Lind administration.

(Copyright 1996, Creators Syndicate Inc.)

Syndicated humor columnist Tony Kornheiser, who writes for The Washington Post, appears Sundays in the Scene section.