Thursday, September 15, 2005

Tragic Turd

I have a feeling Empy will be talking about this play. In case you missed it, like I did (a certain sandwich place was closed, and I ended up walking 17 blocks and...), Gabe hurt his foot rounding the bases on Professor Graff's homer, and Machado came in to pinch run--during the play--and scored his first major league run. Hope Gaby's okaby.

What would I do for David Ortiz? Actually, what wouldn't I do? I've reached theBSM/artist formerly known as Broseph level with Papi, I think.

The ovation he's gonna hear when he comes up to the plate for the first time tomorrow night at Fenway will be loud. Right-between-the-eyes loud. Don't-want-no-compromise loud.

I said I'd try to come up with some unique way to give the magic number. So here goes.

It won't show the number, but rather this yankee Stadium-model toilet bowl. When the yankee turd is totally flushed, the division will be ours. You'll notice that the water in the bowl is just starting to dance the yanks' last dance. You'll also notice my Spidey garbage can from '78. I might not get to update it this weekend, due to not being near a computer, but I figured I'd get the idea out there.

Best performance from last night's games belongs to Roger Clemens. Pitching and winning on the day his mother passed away-we can all learn something about courage from that man. RIP Mrs. Clemens.

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Location: Rhode Island, United States