Who Is Zach Reynolds?

He is all of these men (and apes, and little girls) — and more.

As drear-nighted December sets in, that direful monster, with its sleety whistle; as clouds their storms discharge, upon the airy towers; as the nigh thatch smokes in the sun-thaw, and the burn roars frae bank to brae; ’tis now that the feeble baseball writer stalls and stammers, quailing before his mighty task. Luckily, yours truly is no such writer; he, like the thrifty squirrel, has stored away toothsome morsels of blog-fodder for the lean season; and at just this happy moment, he has recalled where one of them is located.

Namely, it is his oft-postponed duty of introducing a new colleague. Readers, you may struggle to recall a time before Zach Reynolds. Like Jim Leyland or venereal disease, he seems to have always shared our world. That is in part because he announced himself in such a meek and self-effacing manner, with such a lack of trumpetry, as is his wont. And it is in part because he has so penetrated you with his intellect, titillated you with his wit, and indeed, blinded you with his science.

But Zach Reynolds has a story, however he might strain to demurely conceal it; and that story deserves to be told. I might seem like a poor candidate to do so, since as it happens I do not know Zach Reynolds from a hole in the ground, and indeed have oft mistaken the one for the other, resulting in many a twisted ankle and muttered oath. Yet his recent and gracious recognition of my own work has compelled me to set this aright. Hence, I have set the crack NotGraphs Forensic Squad to the task. And here is their report. Readers, I give you Zach Reynolds.

Zach Reynolds. The Baddest Cobra. The Flash of Cigarette City. The Zachintosh. Zach the Ripper. Jeezus. The only man that ever got a zero for doing a move so fast the judges didn’t ever see it. He has it all: money, fame, intelligence, a beauty queen wife and great kids. He handles the frontman position with Elvis-like panache. There are few better ways to begin a Friday night.

But where did Zach Reynolds come from? As a youngster he exhibited amazingly high intelligence. But he would forever lack the ability to concentrate on demand and his perception and reactions would remain unconventional. It was difficult to get him to respond to simple questions like, “Take your salamander out of the tapioca, Zach.” He attended oratory school, studied HVAC/Refrigeration at Bluegrass Community and Technical College, and put in his time at the School of Hard Knocks. He worked as a photo editor, a geophysicist, a draftsman, a drive-thru attendant at Big Boy, an Allocation & Replenishment Analyst (Major Appliances), a “Foremen” at Custom Grounds Landscape & Hardscape, and a “Boss” at “Supreme Swag Club.” He was an infielder for the SUNY Cortland Red Dragons, an outfielder for the California (MO) Pintos, a right-handed pitcher for the Seaford (DE) Bluejays, a catcher for the Bixby (OK) Spartans, a fullback for the Jacksonville Dolphins, a power forward for the Gulf Coast Commodores, and a guitarist/singer for the Graveyard Lovers. He liked fast motorcycles, so he purchased almost 50 bikes. He liked fast cars and drag racing, owning as many as 20 at any given time, and loved to modify them to go even faster. He loved stunt flying and had custom planes built just for him.

You may say, well it’s one thing to own it but could he really drive, ride, or fly all of these speed machines?

The answer is YES!!

And now? He skates. He strums. He salutes. He preaches the blues. He takes his knocks. He drinks grease by the cupful. He spreads the word about electrical safety.

He loves his Miss Pus, and getting drunk. He tries with every project to add some element that sets it apart from everything he’s ever seen before. And while that’s sometimes difficult with the increasing number of amazingly talented people in the world, he still usually manages to succeed.

His goal is to uplift and inspire the imagination by presenting an uncommon look at the natural world on which we are dependent. And he will use recycled shipping pallets to do so.

And if you are talking about penis envy, he has but one thing to say.

Not in his house.

Not, ladies and gentlemen, in the house of Zach Reynolds. And while you might hitherto have pleaded ignorance, you can do so no longer. Now you know. And now, I trust, you respect.

Readers, I give you Zach Reynolds.