So I have a new theory as to why 1080 AM Hartford comes in so crappily in the Danbury area.

But a quick background for those who don't know. 1080 comes in all over the northeast. I've heard tales of people in the Carolinas who say "Thank god for 1080 in Hartford." And I've picked it up driving through Pennsylvania. Meanwhile, I can get the Baltimore station clearly every night (1090, it overpowers 1080), as well as stations from Cleveland, Toronto, Cincinnati, Philly, and Pittsburgh.

I've often thought that there must be a hill between Hartford and the Danbury area (where Ive always lived). Either that or Steinbrenner is somehow controlling it, continuing to keep the Sox out of Fairfield County.

But here's my new theory.

If you've ever driven through Waterbury, CT on I-84 (halfway between Danbury and Hartford), you've probably noticed a huge lit-up cross on top of a big hill. Or as I said when I was three, according to my mom, "It's not a cross, it's a lower case 't'."

It's there because some dude once recreated Bethlehem up on that hill and called the place "Holy Land." You may have seen the Hollywood-style sign up there, too. The remnants of it are still there. I've been there twice, and I have to say, it's one of the most f'd up places on earth. Go there if you want to be freaked out, but go in the daylight, as it's a notorious drug-dealing area.

Anyway, I now believe that Jesus, in retribution for all the years I've spent mocking him and his followers, has been punishing me all this time.

I think the signal leaves Hartford, flies through the air toward where I am, hits the cross in Waterbury, and goes splitting off in three directions like some kind of apocalyptic trident. Left, right, and up, in the shape of the cross. All the people to the east and west pick up their share of the signal, and the airwaves coming out of the top of the cross go up and over Fairfield County into the states south and west.

Here's my other story for tonight: (names changed because personal info is mentioned)

My friend Calogero got a new job where he's being immediately flown to the city of Narnia, where he'll spend four days getting to know his new co-workers at a conference. He was told that it's "okay to act like a retard" by his boss, Mr. Slate, since he's just starting out. On the first night in Narnia, they'll all get together and bowl. So tonight, "C," as we call Calogero, is bowling with total strangers, pretending to be retarded.

Tonight, while I was at my friend Keith Morris' house, Keith's girlfriend, Tatiana, came home. He asked her where she was. She said she was out bowling. I said, "Oh, weird, C's bowling tonight in Narnia." She didn't think it was that big a deal. Then she pointed out that "Well, this was with retarted people." (She works with the disabled.) I said, "Oh, well C's pretending to be retarded." She still didn't seem to care, but I thought it was a pretty weird coincidence.

Maybe tomorrow it'll hit her. Oh that Tatiana.

How much do you love Tim Wakefield? Another golden performance. Great job working out of the jam in the first. And Chopper with a mega-dong to the triangle.

And in the yankee game, which I had on radio (I was at the utopia of my parents' place, where the Sox are on TV and the yanks are NOT), in the bottom of the first, Jon Sterling says, "Kevin Brown is looking great, he's hitting 93, he's walking around the mound with a spring in his step..." Then BOOM, home run, BOOM, double, BOOM, single, 2-0 O-Birds. Then in the second, Brownie gives up a grand slam, putting the yanks in a hole they never dug out of.

David Wells was on the NESN post-game and was pretty funny. He said Kevin Brown might break his other hand after today. Then, upon hearing Steinbrenner's little speech of frustration today (always a much-celebrated occurence in my family), Wells said that it only makes everybody's booty a litle tighter around there, instead of making the new guys feel comfortable.

We are three ahead of them, and they've lost 8 of 10. Their starters stink. Their bullpen stinks. Their closer stinks. They don't hit for shit. It's wonderful to be alive.

The only bad thing about this weekend's dual sweeping action was that the yanks couldn't fall behind the Rays into last place because we kept beating the Rays, and we couldn't jump ahead of the O's because they kept beating the yanks. But I'm not complaining one bit.

I noticed that this dude Bell is pitching for the Rays in the Bronx tomorrow. On Saturday, he was the wacky guy for the Rays during their batting practice. In other words, the first dude to throw a ball into the crowd. Hence the guy everybody yells toward every time he gets a ball from then on, leading to a special chemistry between him and the crowd. Since he was "that guy" for the Rays, I'm predicting that it translates into a nice loose performance on the mound for him, beating the yanks. Let's say, 17-0. Why the hell not?

The World Champions play at 11 AM tomorrow, don't forget to pay close attention to the game instead of working. Priorities, everybody.

Oh, that's right, you Mass people actually get a day off for this thing tomorrow. Not fair. Connecticut needs a day like this. Whalers' Day? How about it, Rell.