Chipper Jones Quietly Protects Our Borders

Programming note: Barring some computer issues, Andy Hutchins will make his TSB weekend editor debut on Saturday. Please come by and welcome him!
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↵No, Chipper hasn’t gone and joined the Minutemen. He just lives close enough to the Mexican border (he says about 12 to 15 miles as the crow flies) to encounter more than his share of illegal immigrants when they stumble onto his property shortly after entering the country.↵↵Typically, he said, he’s cordial to those he encounters before phoning the border patrol to send them back from whence they came. But the illegals have managed to scare the bejesus out of him on a few occasions as well:↵

↵↵⇥“Well, you wanna talk about probably the biggest chill going up and down your spine that you’ve ever had? Try walking to the deer stand at 5:00 in the morning when it’s pitch black dark, and you’re climbing up the ladder to this power line, and you’ve got five faces standing there staring at you. But, here’s the thing, you feel fairly confident because you have a high powered weapon over your shoulder, but you know, it’s still… I almost fell off the ladder when I opened the door. I know a little Spanish, enough to communicate with them, get them in the truck and it’s very calm, most of the time when I run in to the Mexicans crossing the border, it’s very calm, very collected. I ask them if they’re thirsty, if they’re hungry, I take them back to the house and at some point we call the border patrol just to make sure that they make it back safe and what not. People say that it’s mean to call the border patrol, but who else are you gonna call? I mean, I’m not gonna spend my whole offseason driving illegals back…”↵↵↵No, Chipper, that’s what retirement is for. Anyway, whatever your thoughts on immigration issues may be (and we probably don’t need to air them on a sports blog), it’s worth a laugh to think that among a certain sector of people, Chipper Jones is the kindhearted gringo who fed you, but also sent you packing.↵

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