Heat and Ink Don’t Mix: A Cautionary Tale About Rob Dibble’s Tattoos
The Great Dan Steinberg™ delivered some great Web TV earlier this week. He Steinographed™ an episode of Nationals’ broadcasters Ray Knight and Rob Dibble Playing the Feud™ on MASN after Stephen Strasburg’s™ last outing.
Knight had offered counsel to the young superstar – he’s got to learn to throw balls when he’s way ahead in the count, Knight said – and Dibble took it hard that somebody dared not just say how great Strasburg was after his 1-0 loss to the Royals.
Dibble and Knight both jumped into their wayback machines and trotted out personal postseason laurels. While Knight kept his cool, Dibble couldn't hide how hot and bothered he was.
And with good reason! Everybody else in the MASN booths was wearing golf shirts appropriate for a day when the temperatures hit numbers as high as Strasburg’s fastball. But Dibble was sporting a long sleeve number more fitting for a fall football game.
Why such a silly blouse? Tattoos. Lots and lots of tattoos. All over his body. Where the sun don't ever shine, even.
Dibble, to cultivate an image appropriate for a guy who used to be known as a Nasty Boy, got himself all inked up over the years. He covers up the, um, artwork when he goes on air. So he was wearing a bail of cotton on a day when wifebeaters would have been the coziest garb choice.
‘Course, if everybody got as cozy as the heat warranted, we would not only have seen Dibble's Ichiro-on-the-ass ink (written up again today by LarryBrownSports.com), we would have glimpsed those flaming barbed wire ring tatts that The Great Johnny Holliday got around both biceps to celebrate being named the Best Sports Broadcaster in D.C. history.
OK OK OK. Holliday hasn't really marked himself up. Yet!
photos courtesy of DC Sports Bog and LarryBrownSports.com