Alou, Moisés - Observe that his hands look a little soft today. Maybe he could go for some of your grade-A, super-yellow urine you have brewing right now. You'd just throw it out anyway.
Tony Armas, Jr. - Before coming over to the Mets this year, Armas spent his entire career playing for the Expos, the Nationals, and then the Pirates. Spend the game developing a top-down conspiracy theory for why Armas has found himself only playing for the worst three franchises in baseball over the past decade. When people start poking holes in your logic, put your fingers in your ears, scream "la-la-la" over and over again, and spend time in your parents' basement creating an inaccurate, deceptive, and poorly-constructed video called "Loose Change 2: The Armas Connection". Before you put the video online, make sure to add hip-hop music in the background. It gives it legitimacy.
Beltrán, Carlos - Remind him of his 6 wasted years as part of the historically-inept Kansas City Royals, who failed to put any players of worth around him, forcing young Carlos to hoist the entire team on his shoulders, which he obviously failed to do. Six years, my goodness. That's a long time. Almost half a career flushed away. What a shame.
Castillo, Luis - Never known for his power numbers, Castillo's value throughout his career has been based solely on his speed which, predictably, is slowing down as he gets older. As such, he should start planning for what he's going to do when he retires, which should be very, very shortly. Offer up numerous suggestions, including going to couple's counseling, finally watching the entire Sex and the City series, and shopping for tampons with the wife.
Church, Ryan - Obviously a devout Christian, spend a vast amount of time reading aloud from the Christopher Hitchens' complilation The Portable Atheist, which isn't as portable as you'd think. You should finish it up somewhere around game 154.
Delgado, Carlos - Known for being a peace activist, declare aloud that it's shocking he ended his silent protest of the Iraq war by not standing during "God Bless America" so soon, especially for a man with such powerful convictions as he. Close the heckle by calling him a dirty tree-hugging hippy and offering him some Patchouli.
Hernández, Orlando - According to just about every report you read, El Duque is somewhere between 57 and 64 years old. This just simply isn't true. He's easily in his mid-90s by now. Assume that he has Alzheimer's and try to have a conversation about the horrors of prohibition, the cute little flappers sitting next to you, or how the revolutionary "talkies" will be the next big thing.
Maine, John - From Fredericksburg, Virginia, one of George Washington's homes, come to the game dressed in colonial garb, complete with powdered hair, wooden teeth and wrapped in a blanket coated with malaria. Spend the game in character, complaining about your latest outbreak of boils, arguing about the justification of taxation without representation, and observing that Maine throws like bit of a "dandy fop".
Martinez, Pedro - Notice that ever since Pedro and Nelson de la Rosa -- his diminutive friend and good luck charm during the 2004 playoffs -- have parted ways, Pedro's career has gone drastically downhill. Suggest that maybe this is just life getting him back for how he exploited the tiny man in his final years. Perhaps karma is really Pedro's daddy.
Pagán, Angel - Possibly the greatest name in all of baseball, let him know that you feel horrible about the schizophrenia Angel must feel whenever he signs his name. Right there, in front of him to clearly see, are the two sides of his personality, the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other. Play the devil's advocate by constantly offering him booze, heroin, hookers and abortions.
Pérez, Óliver - Remind him how, generally speaking, he seems to follow up a decent year with a horribly sucky and incompetent campaign. And since last year was pretty good, he should be coming back down to Earth in no time. Illustrate this with a hand-made portrait of a roller coaster. On fire. But not in a symbolically good way.
Reyes, Jose - Known for his amazing speed, inquire if running the bases is the only thing he's quick on the draw with. Heavily imply that the answer is no, and that the other thing he's quick at is sexual intercourse.
Santana, Johan - The best pitcher in baseball, there's really no way to get under his skin, which is only possible if the technology in the classic movie Innerspace exists. If you do get inside somehow, send us a sign of your success by doing three jumping jacks in the 4th inning in between pitches. After that, feel free to make Johan shit his pants.
Schneider, Brian - The man behind the plate when pitcher Mike Bacsik served up home run number 756 to Barry Bonds, thank Schneider for letting the bad guy win by not calling for chin music. Schneider's apparently the type of guy who roots for the Hawks in The Mighty Ducks. Jerk.
Wagner, Billy - He owns an alpaca farm in Crozet, Virginia, no doubt a purchase made after spending one night too many wrestling with insomnia in front of late night infomercials. Try to take advantage of his obvious lack of self-control by offering him a great deal on a barely-used Flobee. To seal the deal, throw in a few Nads.
Wright, David - After Vitamin Water was bought out by Coca-Cola last year, Wright earned roughly $20 million, as he had part ownership in the company as part of his endorsement deal. The rapper 50 Cent, meanwhile, earned an estimated $400 million. That means God loves "fitty" at least 20 times more than Wright, and that's before even considering Mr. Cent surviving multiple gunshots.