Saturday, April 30, 2005
Escape To Witch Mountain
Here's the latest entry in the Red Sox blogging world: Witch City Sox Girl. You can't go wrong with this one, as we all know that witches, cities, the Sox, and girls are usually pretty cool.
You know, I have to admit, what you see above was written after a fairly brief look at this woman's blog. But since writing it, I delved deeper, and I have to say, she deserves more than the half-hearted review I just gave.
In the short time she's been writing her blog, she's mentioned: The Misfits, Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, Elliot Smith, and Mike D. She made reference to a fairly obscure character from a Wayne's World sketch (at least I think she did), and referred to Detroit as "Detroit Rock City." She lists among her interests snow AND the beach, as well as David Sedaris and batting cages. And she's roughly my age. And she hates the yanks.
So please visit her site.. I suppose if you're at my site you might be able to appreciate hers.
While I'm hyping stuff, I thought you might like to read Rally Cuff's opinion of Edgar "Chopper" Renteria. It's what I've been trying to say but couldn't find the right words.
Let me try to think of a segue here...Uh, after you read those two blogs, you'll want to look for other good blogs. You'll keep going and going and going, just like the Duracell Bunny! Now, I know what you're saying: "Jere, you're way off on this one. It's the Energizer Bunny. The shades-wearin', drumming bunny we all came to love in the early nineties.
Well I don't know what the hell you're talking about. It's the Duracell Bunny:
You know, I have to admit, what you see above was written after a fairly brief look at this woman's blog. But since writing it, I delved deeper, and I have to say, she deserves more than the half-hearted review I just gave.
In the short time she's been writing her blog, she's mentioned: The Misfits, Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, Elliot Smith, and Mike D. She made reference to a fairly obscure character from a Wayne's World sketch (at least I think she did), and referred to Detroit as "Detroit Rock City." She lists among her interests snow AND the beach, as well as David Sedaris and batting cages. And she's roughly my age. And she hates the yanks.
So please visit her site.. I suppose if you're at my site you might be able to appreciate hers.
While I'm hyping stuff, I thought you might like to read Rally Cuff's opinion of Edgar "Chopper" Renteria. It's what I've been trying to say but couldn't find the right words.
Let me try to think of a segue here...Uh, after you read those two blogs, you'll want to look for other good blogs. You'll keep going and going and going, just like the Duracell Bunny! Now, I know what you're saying: "Jere, you're way off on this one. It's the Energizer Bunny. The shades-wearin', drumming bunny we all came to love in the early nineties.
Well I don't know what the hell you're talking about. It's the Duracell Bunny:
Just Fun. Good Times.
Big Unit
Little Unit
No UnitHey, why not? Simple. Fun. We like to kid the yanks.
I'm not gonna make fun of their starter for today. That would be too easy. And racist, I think. But now that I think about it, I could just use his name for the purposes of making fun of A-Rod, as is the theme of this piece. So here goes:
WangNo WangAnyway, last night's performance by the tall, hard-to-look-at one was probably discouraging for him, as Halladay ended up out-duelling him. Frustration in the yankee clubhouse is what I want. He must be pissed. Seriously. "I go out and pitch nine innings and Murderer's Wo-(mack) can't score a run?! WTF?"
The Sox are now 11-11, which, let's hope, is good luck. I just got a fortune cookie that said "Summer time will brings good fortune to those who wear the red stockings." Actually, I didn't. I didn't even get a fortune cookie at all. But I still believe the statement to be true.
[The "s" at the end of the word "bring" was a mistake, but I've left it in, because those fortunes often have misused or misplaced words, as you know.]
[Edit from like ten minutes later: Okay, this is ridiculous. It would just be unfair to not mention the matchup in the yanks-Jays game today. At yankee Stadium today, you can "C. Wang pitch against D. Bush." Come on, people.]
Friday, April 29, 2005
Cuba
A comment I got on what I wrote about baseball in Cuba:
"Exploitation and indentured servitude rules too. It must be really great to not be able to choose where you work while earning a meager living even though you have a talent that only a small percentage of your peers can boast. I guess "not wanting to play for a different [team]" means not wanting to risk your life by jumping on a raft in hopes of playing baseball here.
Who do you think gets the revenue from the baseball games played in Cuba? Shouldn't the lion's share go to the players? Every time I hear an argument about how MLB players are overpaid no one ever suggests a desired alternative. Terrible job."
Well, I was just talking about the baseball itself, although if we got into politics, I'm sure we'd disagree on that, too.
What's so bad about sitting in the tropics, watching baseball being played by non-millionaires who actually care as much about their team as the fans do? That's exactly what I think baseball should be.
It's kind of like Little League, only with adults.
I think, in general, that "being recognized" should not be synonymous with "being given cash." Especially when it involves a game. A game is supposed to be fun, and any time money is involved, it takes away the fun (as well as a lot of other important things, like integrity.) It's like people are always saying, "I'd play for free." Would you? I don't think you would. I'd play for free, AND I'd get a real job so I could have enough money to eat.
This is interesting, because exactly what I'm talking about is the reason why you see some Cubans risking their lives to come to the U.S. They're given the impression that the streets are paved with proverbial gold, when in reality, they may end up worse off here than there, because the "gold" is all owned by a little tiny percentage of rich white DICKS, who aren't about to give any of it up, especially to people who don't look like them.
But back to what I was saying, I agree that talent should be recognized. But when the recognition comes in the form of money that just goes in to that person's bank account, what good does that do?
Look, when I was a kid, of course I dreamed of going into one of those glass rooms, like on game shows, where dollar bills fly around and you try to grab as many as you can in a certain time frame. But I've come to realize that helping other people is way more important than just going through life with your sole objective being "to get money."
If I had a million dollars, could I go outside and play Wiffle Ball and have any more fun than I would if I were poor? No. Sure, I could buy a big grass lot and put a gate around it and play all the time, but again, I can do that now, only I don't need a gate, and I wouldn't want to keep others from enjoying that grass. (I know, that song "Signs"...) Hell, I could buy people and have them throw me meatballs all day. I could bat ALL the time! I could buy all the best players in the neighborhood and my team would always have a chance at winning while some teams in the Jere Millionaire League would never have a chance! Does this sound familiar?
To me, it's all about the fun. I even go to the casino every once in a while. I never come home in a limo, but that's not the point. It's just fun. In fact, I'd still love to go into one of those glass rooms, only now I wouldn't care if it was Monopoly money flying around! It just seems like a cool game! I gotta get me one of those. (I wonder if the fan device is included.)
You may ask why I care about Major League Baseball, then. Well, of all the traditions that Americans pass down from one generation to the next, the whole Red Sox thing is the last one I care about. It's true what they say about baseball being a link to your youth. You grow up, and your ideals change, and the game changes, but they're still the Boston Red Sox. And it's never going to get any easier to root for millionaries, but this has to hit a wall at some point. Until then, we can hope that baseball gets back to what it should be, while also enjoying the beauty and innocence of minor league ball, Little League games, stickball, nerf ball, dice-rolling leagues, and Atari "Home Run" baseball.
Here's what I'm talking about: "Baseball is virtually the only aspect of U.S. culture embraced by the Cuban Revolution, an enterprise based largely on resisting American imperialism." That's from this site, EricEnders.com. (A really good piece on baseball in Cuba.) That's kind of like me. I don't do all the typical "American" activities. I gave up meat. I never got into drinking or smoking. I'm not fond of capitalism. I don't wave the flag in blind support of the government. I never liked Dave Matthews. But there's something about baseball. It's a game I support despite the fact that it uses animal skins for the gloves and balls, for god's sake! Oh, and I don't believe in that dude either.
Here's another great paragraph from the same article (emphasis mine.)
"On a sunny Havana street, a few yards away from the crashing waves of the Caribbean, a dozen youngsters (picture, right) play a stickball game called cuatras esquinas (four corners). The ball is a rock wrapped in white medical tape, about half the size of a regulation baseball. The bat is a tree branch; there are no gloves. There’s also no baserunning – either you hit the ball over everyone’s head, or you’re out. If a car speeds by, play stops while the fielders scurry for the safety of the sidewalk. Such pickup games can be found on virtually every street corner in the island. This is where boys hone their batting skills in hope that they will eventually be chosen for one of the prestigious baseball academies, then maybe the National Series, and perhaps eventually, the Olympics. Most of them know they will never make it that far, but it doesn’t bother them. They are busy enjoying themselves, catching and running and hitting, with the sea breeze blowing through their hair and the afternoon sun warming their shoulders. What could be better?"
There are good and bad things about Cuba, just like here in the U.S. We could argue about that stuff all day. But if we're talking strictly baseball, well, I think they're the ones doing it right.
(You also asked where I think the revenue from games is going...what revenue? Up until recently, the games were free to get into, and now seats cost between four and twelve cents each. And there's no advertising.)
"Exploitation and indentured servitude rules too. It must be really great to not be able to choose where you work while earning a meager living even though you have a talent that only a small percentage of your peers can boast. I guess "not wanting to play for a different [team]" means not wanting to risk your life by jumping on a raft in hopes of playing baseball here.
Who do you think gets the revenue from the baseball games played in Cuba? Shouldn't the lion's share go to the players? Every time I hear an argument about how MLB players are overpaid no one ever suggests a desired alternative. Terrible job."
Well, I was just talking about the baseball itself, although if we got into politics, I'm sure we'd disagree on that, too.
What's so bad about sitting in the tropics, watching baseball being played by non-millionaires who actually care as much about their team as the fans do? That's exactly what I think baseball should be.
It's kind of like Little League, only with adults.
I think, in general, that "being recognized" should not be synonymous with "being given cash." Especially when it involves a game. A game is supposed to be fun, and any time money is involved, it takes away the fun (as well as a lot of other important things, like integrity.) It's like people are always saying, "I'd play for free." Would you? I don't think you would. I'd play for free, AND I'd get a real job so I could have enough money to eat.
This is interesting, because exactly what I'm talking about is the reason why you see some Cubans risking their lives to come to the U.S. They're given the impression that the streets are paved with proverbial gold, when in reality, they may end up worse off here than there, because the "gold" is all owned by a little tiny percentage of rich white DICKS, who aren't about to give any of it up, especially to people who don't look like them.
But back to what I was saying, I agree that talent should be recognized. But when the recognition comes in the form of money that just goes in to that person's bank account, what good does that do?
Look, when I was a kid, of course I dreamed of going into one of those glass rooms, like on game shows, where dollar bills fly around and you try to grab as many as you can in a certain time frame. But I've come to realize that helping other people is way more important than just going through life with your sole objective being "to get money."
If I had a million dollars, could I go outside and play Wiffle Ball and have any more fun than I would if I were poor? No. Sure, I could buy a big grass lot and put a gate around it and play all the time, but again, I can do that now, only I don't need a gate, and I wouldn't want to keep others from enjoying that grass. (I know, that song "Signs"...) Hell, I could buy people and have them throw me meatballs all day. I could bat ALL the time! I could buy all the best players in the neighborhood and my team would always have a chance at winning while some teams in the Jere Millionaire League would never have a chance! Does this sound familiar?
To me, it's all about the fun. I even go to the casino every once in a while. I never come home in a limo, but that's not the point. It's just fun. In fact, I'd still love to go into one of those glass rooms, only now I wouldn't care if it was Monopoly money flying around! It just seems like a cool game! I gotta get me one of those. (I wonder if the fan device is included.)
You may ask why I care about Major League Baseball, then. Well, of all the traditions that Americans pass down from one generation to the next, the whole Red Sox thing is the last one I care about. It's true what they say about baseball being a link to your youth. You grow up, and your ideals change, and the game changes, but they're still the Boston Red Sox. And it's never going to get any easier to root for millionaries, but this has to hit a wall at some point. Until then, we can hope that baseball gets back to what it should be, while also enjoying the beauty and innocence of minor league ball, Little League games, stickball, nerf ball, dice-rolling leagues, and Atari "Home Run" baseball.
Here's what I'm talking about: "Baseball is virtually the only aspect of U.S. culture embraced by the Cuban Revolution, an enterprise based largely on resisting American imperialism." That's from this site, EricEnders.com. (A really good piece on baseball in Cuba.) That's kind of like me. I don't do all the typical "American" activities. I gave up meat. I never got into drinking or smoking. I'm not fond of capitalism. I don't wave the flag in blind support of the government. I never liked Dave Matthews. But there's something about baseball. It's a game I support despite the fact that it uses animal skins for the gloves and balls, for god's sake! Oh, and I don't believe in that dude either.
Here's another great paragraph from the same article (emphasis mine.)
"On a sunny Havana street, a few yards away from the crashing waves of the Caribbean, a dozen youngsters (picture, right) play a stickball game called cuatras esquinas (four corners). The ball is a rock wrapped in white medical tape, about half the size of a regulation baseball. The bat is a tree branch; there are no gloves. There’s also no baserunning – either you hit the ball over everyone’s head, or you’re out. If a car speeds by, play stops while the fielders scurry for the safety of the sidewalk. Such pickup games can be found on virtually every street corner in the island. This is where boys hone their batting skills in hope that they will eventually be chosen for one of the prestigious baseball academies, then maybe the National Series, and perhaps eventually, the Olympics. Most of them know they will never make it that far, but it doesn’t bother them. They are busy enjoying themselves, catching and running and hitting, with the sea breeze blowing through their hair and the afternoon sun warming their shoulders. What could be better?"
There are good and bad things about Cuba, just like here in the U.S. We could argue about that stuff all day. But if we're talking strictly baseball, well, I think they're the ones doing it right.
(You also asked where I think the revenue from games is going...what revenue? Up until recently, the games were free to get into, and now seats cost between four and twelve cents each. And there's no advertising.)
Thursday, April 28, 2005
More "New Phone Books" Arrive
Gold.
When I ordered my Hall Of Fame Game tickets, I was told that they were obstructed view due to walking traffic. After looking at pictures of Doubleday Field, I figured my seats must be in the front row, because I couldn't figure out where else you could be and have people walking in front of you. (The place holds about 10,000, and there appears to be only one walkway to get to the seats, right at the bottom of the stands.)
Got my tix in the mail today.
Row A.
Again, gold.
So I'll be a few feet from the third base bag, if I'm calculating correctly. Right by Billy Mueller! I mean...Youkilis! I mean...uh...Vazquez! Well, I guess the one sure thing is that I'll be right near Dale Svuem. (crickets.)
I just realized that when Samara from Blue Cats, Et Cetera reads that I'm going to be right near Tiger players (the team we're playing), she'll probably ask me to take pictures of their butts. Look, I'll take regular pictures, but those special shots are gonna cost you. Or better yet, ask Empyreal Environs, who also will be there, as maybe she can get close-ups of whatever areas you ladies are interested in.
Also, there's a deal where kids get to run the bases and high five the players after the game. I'll be taking my mom and my cousin's husband and one of his sons, who will surely be psyched to learn that he'll be going on the field. I'm pretty sure he's under twelve. He and his dad are yankee fans, but they're family, it's cool. Hey, my cousin married into yankee-dom, what can I say? She was happy for her "old" team when we finally won. So again, it's cool.
When I ordered my Hall Of Fame Game tickets, I was told that they were obstructed view due to walking traffic. After looking at pictures of Doubleday Field, I figured my seats must be in the front row, because I couldn't figure out where else you could be and have people walking in front of you. (The place holds about 10,000, and there appears to be only one walkway to get to the seats, right at the bottom of the stands.)
Got my tix in the mail today.
Row A.
Again, gold.
So I'll be a few feet from the third base bag, if I'm calculating correctly. Right by Billy Mueller! I mean...Youkilis! I mean...uh...Vazquez! Well, I guess the one sure thing is that I'll be right near Dale Svuem. (crickets.)
I just realized that when Samara from Blue Cats, Et Cetera reads that I'm going to be right near Tiger players (the team we're playing), she'll probably ask me to take pictures of their butts. Look, I'll take regular pictures, but those special shots are gonna cost you. Or better yet, ask Empyreal Environs, who also will be there, as maybe she can get close-ups of whatever areas you ladies are interested in.
Also, there's a deal where kids get to run the bases and high five the players after the game. I'll be taking my mom and my cousin's husband and one of his sons, who will surely be psyched to learn that he'll be going on the field. I'm pretty sure he's under twelve. He and his dad are yankee fans, but they're family, it's cool. Hey, my cousin married into yankee-dom, what can I say? She was happy for her "old" team when we finally won. So again, it's cool.
Beaming
I'm in proud poppa mode right now as my current child, the El Pueblo de la Reina de Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, have just completed their clarinet recital, i.e. beaten the yankees for the second night in a row. On each of those nights, the yanks could've gained a half game on the idle Red Sox. Instead, we're back to 2 1/2 up on 'em, without even having to get off of our butts. And their record is a beautiful 9-13.
Look at our September schedule. From late August to the end of the regular season we play 24 of 36 games at home. That's gonna be key. Look at what the O's have to do over that same stretch.
(I like to pretend that I think it's gonna come down to us and Balty just to piss off yankee fans.)
Look at our September schedule. From late August to the end of the regular season we play 24 of 36 games at home. That's gonna be key. Look at what the O's have to do over that same stretch.
(I like to pretend that I think it's gonna come down to us and Balty just to piss off yankee fans.)
World B. Free
Just got this comment:
"Jere, I have a question for you. Although I am from Boston and support the Red Sox, i fail to see how we can justify ourselves as the world champions when we only played American teams. Agreed there isnt likely any other oppostion, but isnt it just a little bold and very 'America number 1'?"
I was just saying to Pat at the last game we went to that the Japanese champion (and all the other champions from around the world) must be PISSED when they hear that some team from the U.S. is always the "world" champion.
Of course it's a very pompous thing to say. I don't make excuses for it. The United Stated thinks their poop doesn't stink. We need to take a cue from the rest of the world.
I would blame the use of the term on tradition, as there was a time when the best baseball team in the United States could pretty safely say they were the "best team in the world." And it has a pretty nice ring to it, World Champs, so I guess it just stuck.
The other thing I was saying was that somebody, Japan, whoever, needs to be challenging this! Call out the "World Champs," and invite them to a best-of-seven in Switzerland!
Either that, or every other country's champion should just say that they, too, are World Champs. Or better yet, say that they're "Universe Champs."
Soon, MLB will expand to Japan and who knows where else. So pretty soon, we will truly have a champion of the world. Or closer to one than now, anyway.
Until then, the Boston Red Sox will just have to be World Champions. :)
Also, Cuban baseball rules. I think I've mentioned this before. But the players are treated like everyone else, don't get paid any extra for being really good, and don't switch teams, because the players are loyal to their home region, and wouldn't want to play for a different one. It makes for a better game, I'm sure. And it being such a beautiful island, seeing a baseball game down there would be pretty close to heaven on earth. Not as close to seeing the Red Sox win the, uh, "World" Series, but close nonetheless.
Thanks for the question. (I'm wondering why you chose this blogger to ask, or if you sent that out to every blog as a psychological experiment.)
"Jere, I have a question for you. Although I am from Boston and support the Red Sox, i fail to see how we can justify ourselves as the world champions when we only played American teams. Agreed there isnt likely any other oppostion, but isnt it just a little bold and very 'America number 1'?"
I was just saying to Pat at the last game we went to that the Japanese champion (and all the other champions from around the world) must be PISSED when they hear that some team from the U.S. is always the "world" champion.
Of course it's a very pompous thing to say. I don't make excuses for it. The United Stated thinks their poop doesn't stink. We need to take a cue from the rest of the world.
I would blame the use of the term on tradition, as there was a time when the best baseball team in the United States could pretty safely say they were the "best team in the world." And it has a pretty nice ring to it, World Champs, so I guess it just stuck.
The other thing I was saying was that somebody, Japan, whoever, needs to be challenging this! Call out the "World Champs," and invite them to a best-of-seven in Switzerland!
Either that, or every other country's champion should just say that they, too, are World Champs. Or better yet, say that they're "Universe Champs."
Soon, MLB will expand to Japan and who knows where else. So pretty soon, we will truly have a champion of the world. Or closer to one than now, anyway.
Until then, the Boston Red Sox will just have to be World Champions. :)
Also, Cuban baseball rules. I think I've mentioned this before. But the players are treated like everyone else, don't get paid any extra for being really good, and don't switch teams, because the players are loyal to their home region, and wouldn't want to play for a different one. It makes for a better game, I'm sure. And it being such a beautiful island, seeing a baseball game down there would be pretty close to heaven on earth. Not as close to seeing the Red Sox win the, uh, "World" Series, but close nonetheless.
Thanks for the question. (I'm wondering why you chose this blogger to ask, or if you sent that out to every blog as a psychological experiment.)
Monkeys
I discovered something really funny on the Poland Spring logo. Since it's monkey-related, I emailed my findings to my friend Bruce about it. And it appears he has done the work of explaining it for me. So go to his blog, Konk On The Noggin, to read about this amazing monkey dicovery! Have your Poland Spring bottle ready.
In other monkey news: I just wanted to clarify what I meant about my last monkey-related idea.
While on the subway a few weeks ago, I just looked around at all the other humans (this happened to me again today, at, ironically, the restaurant Subway,) and they all just seemed so odd. Like, if monkeys were the highest order of beings, this would be a sci-fi-writing monkey's idea of what some futuristic race might be like. The point is, everything's just a little off, because these monkeys have never seen humans, as they don't exist in this hypothetical world (why isn't the plural "monkies," by the way?). So in the monkey's vision, these advanced beings all walk very upright, stand in a line, communicate with each other calmly, trading pieces of paper for food, or just sitting, letting time waste away while sitting in transportation machines.
I guess what I'm saying is that sometimes I look at a group of people and see no life whatsoever, just robots. Monkeys would kill for a subway car that brings them all over the place, super-fast, and they'd surely dance and jump around the whole time they were on one.
But who am I to talk?
Anyway, while at Subway today, I noticed something: Subway appears to have switched hands from Pepsico to Coca-Cola! I can get Cherry Coke at Subway now!
Speaking of Pepsi, I heard A-Rod is now a spokesman of theirs. I guess he heard the second-place soda was looking for someone and figured he'd jump right on board. Could Avis rent-a-car be next for Alex?
In other monkey news: I just wanted to clarify what I meant about my last monkey-related idea.
While on the subway a few weeks ago, I just looked around at all the other humans (this happened to me again today, at, ironically, the restaurant Subway,) and they all just seemed so odd. Like, if monkeys were the highest order of beings, this would be a sci-fi-writing monkey's idea of what some futuristic race might be like. The point is, everything's just a little off, because these monkeys have never seen humans, as they don't exist in this hypothetical world (why isn't the plural "monkies," by the way?). So in the monkey's vision, these advanced beings all walk very upright, stand in a line, communicate with each other calmly, trading pieces of paper for food, or just sitting, letting time waste away while sitting in transportation machines.
I guess what I'm saying is that sometimes I look at a group of people and see no life whatsoever, just robots. Monkeys would kill for a subway car that brings them all over the place, super-fast, and they'd surely dance and jump around the whole time they were on one.
But who am I to talk?
Anyway, while at Subway today, I noticed something: Subway appears to have switched hands from Pepsico to Coca-Cola! I can get Cherry Coke at Subway now!
Speaking of Pepsi, I heard A-Rod is now a spokesman of theirs. I guess he heard the second-place soda was looking for someone and figured he'd jump right on board. Could Avis rent-a-car be next for Alex?
Love The Rain, Hate The Out
I love rainy days. There's something about the way the rain outside makes it easier to get through a work day. The only negative about rain is that it cancels baseball games.
But this one's okay, because if there ever was a time when this team needed a two-day vacation...
So, with not much Red Sox action going on, I thought I'd catch up on the latest lies over at Boston Dirt Dogs.
There I saw a picture of some people on Lansdowne Street waiting on line to get in to Fenway on Opening Day. (Barks & Bites section, 4/25, open in a new browser to compare the two shots.)
I thought, Hey, I remember that really funny Tom Jones-related sign, but I certainly don't remember that "Dirt Dogs" sign. I also remembered that while I was standing in that area with Evan and Dave from MVN/All-Baseball, Dave snapped a shot of it. So I asked him if he remembered any Dirt Dogs sign, and if he still had the photo. He didn't remember a Dirt Dogs sign either, and his shot, which he sent to me, proves it:
What I'm getting at is that these dudes obviously just took a black pen and a small piece of paper and crudely scribbled "Dirt Dogs" on it, then had one of their buddies (I'm guessing blue jacket, since he doesn't appear to be in the shot shown on DD's site) snap a pic, just so they could get on BostonDirtDogs.com.
And it worked. Way to pull a fast one on him, guys.
I just think it's funny how, from the shot on Dirt Dog's site, it would appear to be some kind of "BostonDirtDogs.com mania!" with revelers sharing tales of past headlines, singing song parodies, toasting George Bush, and ripping hated Red Sox of the past like Nomar Garciaparra and Pedro Martinez. When in actuality, it was just some really tired people on the sidewalk.
It's not like I even needed any kind of proof of this, as the quickly-whipped-up-with-a-pen "Dirt Dogs" (not BostonDirtDogs.com, mind you, just "Dirt Dogs") sign tells you exactly what's going on: "Somebody write 'Dirt Dogs' and we'll get on the internet!"
But, like I said, the Red Sox have two days off, what the hell else am I supposed to do?
But this one's okay, because if there ever was a time when this team needed a two-day vacation...
So, with not much Red Sox action going on, I thought I'd catch up on the latest lies over at Boston Dirt Dogs.
There I saw a picture of some people on Lansdowne Street waiting on line to get in to Fenway on Opening Day. (Barks & Bites section, 4/25, open in a new browser to compare the two shots.)
I thought, Hey, I remember that really funny Tom Jones-related sign, but I certainly don't remember that "Dirt Dogs" sign. I also remembered that while I was standing in that area with Evan and Dave from MVN/All-Baseball, Dave snapped a shot of it. So I asked him if he remembered any Dirt Dogs sign, and if he still had the photo. He didn't remember a Dirt Dogs sign either, and his shot, which he sent to me, proves it:
What I'm getting at is that these dudes obviously just took a black pen and a small piece of paper and crudely scribbled "Dirt Dogs" on it, then had one of their buddies (I'm guessing blue jacket, since he doesn't appear to be in the shot shown on DD's site) snap a pic, just so they could get on BostonDirtDogs.com.
And it worked. Way to pull a fast one on him, guys.
I just think it's funny how, from the shot on Dirt Dog's site, it would appear to be some kind of "BostonDirtDogs.com mania!" with revelers sharing tales of past headlines, singing song parodies, toasting George Bush, and ripping hated Red Sox of the past like Nomar Garciaparra and Pedro Martinez. When in actuality, it was just some really tired people on the sidewalk.
It's not like I even needed any kind of proof of this, as the quickly-whipped-up-with-a-pen "Dirt Dogs" (not BostonDirtDogs.com, mind you, just "Dirt Dogs") sign tells you exactly what's going on: "Somebody write 'Dirt Dogs' and we'll get on the internet!"
But, like I said, the Red Sox have two days off, what the hell else am I supposed to do?
Girl You Know It's True
We all knew that when A-Rod finally had a key home run, or a big game, there'd be that bullshit talk about him becoming a "true yankee." So after the other night, you'd think every single media person would avoid the obvious, but whether it was tongue-in-cheek or not, all I heard today was the phrase "true yankee."
So as long as we're all pretending that this is an actual issue, here's my take:
A-Rod, your three home run game in April against some team that wasn't the Red Sox has indeed made you a "true yankee," if only in the minds of 30,000 rich people from Westchester and their cracker spawn. Too bad all those "I root for both New York teams"-types were over at Shea rooting for Pedro instead of your sorry ass.
So as long as we're all pretending that this is an actual issue, here's my take:
A-Rod, your three home run game in April against some team that wasn't the Red Sox has indeed made you a "true yankee," if only in the minds of 30,000 rich people from Westchester and their cracker spawn. Too bad all those "I root for both New York teams"-types were over at Shea rooting for Pedro instead of your sorry ass.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Lightening Up The Mood In Any Way I Can
"Right now this one has you scratching your head." --Joe Castiglione
Here's something to cheer you all up after this tough loss:
This pic is from April 13th, 2005.
All right, I lied. I was really planning on using this shot of Manny because I thought he would be the star of the game after his home run tonight.
Lied again. I just wanted an excuse to put this picture up.
Damn, quit grillin' me under these hot lights! You got me. I just wanted to prove that Manny Ramirez looked at me. Happy?
While listening to the game tonight, I was looking at web sites of old TV shows. Did you ever realize you had a crush on someone, like, twenty years later? You know who I'm talkin' about. Freakin' Moose from "You Can't Do That On Television."
Remember that show? It was on Nickelodeon just about the time cable TV was reaching the suburbs. Actually, as I just found out, it aired from '79 to '90.
It's not like I erased the show from my memory or anything, but seeing some still shots of it made me realize how much time I spent welcoming Moose into my living room. Which, at my house, was always the family room. (I always hated when baseball announcers, upon watching a replay of a foul ball that goes right toward the camera, would say, "Here it comes, right into your living room." "We don't have a TV in the living room," I'd yell at the set.) What a weird show. So unique. So Canadian.
And I guess I hadn't actually seen a picture of Moose since, uh, I hit puberty.
Lisa Ruddy, on the other hand, well, she's just never gonna do it for me.
Here's something to cheer you all up after this tough loss:
This pic is from April 13th, 2005.
All right, I lied. I was really planning on using this shot of Manny because I thought he would be the star of the game after his home run tonight.
Lied again. I just wanted an excuse to put this picture up.
Damn, quit grillin' me under these hot lights! You got me. I just wanted to prove that Manny Ramirez looked at me. Happy?
While listening to the game tonight, I was looking at web sites of old TV shows. Did you ever realize you had a crush on someone, like, twenty years later? You know who I'm talkin' about. Freakin' Moose from "You Can't Do That On Television."
Remember that show? It was on Nickelodeon just about the time cable TV was reaching the suburbs. Actually, as I just found out, it aired from '79 to '90.
It's not like I erased the show from my memory or anything, but seeing some still shots of it made me realize how much time I spent welcoming Moose into my living room. Which, at my house, was always the family room. (I always hated when baseball announcers, upon watching a replay of a foul ball that goes right toward the camera, would say, "Here it comes, right into your living room." "We don't have a TV in the living room," I'd yell at the set.) What a weird show. So unique. So Canadian.
And I guess I hadn't actually seen a picture of Moose since, uh, I hit puberty.
Lisa Ruddy, on the other hand, well, she's just never gonna do it for me.
Stories/Steamer/Springer
As a proofreader, I see lot of books every day. The Red Sox are mentioned in books much more than the yankees, I've noticed. This is probably because you have to be somewhat intelligent to write a book, so more authors are Red Sox fans, hence, more Red Sox name dropping.
Today, though, I had something really funny happen. I smuggled home a copy of the page this was on so I could relay it here. This is from some novel set in the 1800s:
"Before leaving Littlesworth they had gone to see Frost, the 'unofficial' sheriff, and had him write a note verifying the fact that they had killed the two wanted men, Wes Gardner and Bob Stanley."
Only a Sox fan could've written this, as only we know what it's like to want to kill Wes Gardner and Bob Stanley.
I just thought it was funny to choose Red Sox players' names from the eighties for the names of characters in some old-timey trash novel.
Also, I never thought I'd say this, but Jerry Springer is the calm voice of reason. He's got a show on Air America Radio. And I seem to agree with what he's preachin'. I don't know what the hell he was doing on that ridiculous tv show all those years.
But I do know that I once worked with a dude who was so obsessed with A. that show, and B. the fact that my name is pronounced the same as Mr. Springer's, that every day when I'd come in to work, this dude would chant my name. And since I wasn't familiar with the show, I figured the dude was just a really big fan of mine. (Although I'd be confused when he'd say, "Fuck YOU, Jere!" for no reason.)
Today, though, I had something really funny happen. I smuggled home a copy of the page this was on so I could relay it here. This is from some novel set in the 1800s:
"Before leaving Littlesworth they had gone to see Frost, the 'unofficial' sheriff, and had him write a note verifying the fact that they had killed the two wanted men, Wes Gardner and Bob Stanley."
Only a Sox fan could've written this, as only we know what it's like to want to kill Wes Gardner and Bob Stanley.
I just thought it was funny to choose Red Sox players' names from the eighties for the names of characters in some old-timey trash novel.
Also, I never thought I'd say this, but Jerry Springer is the calm voice of reason. He's got a show on Air America Radio. And I seem to agree with what he's preachin'. I don't know what the hell he was doing on that ridiculous tv show all those years.
But I do know that I once worked with a dude who was so obsessed with A. that show, and B. the fact that my name is pronounced the same as Mr. Springer's, that every day when I'd come in to work, this dude would chant my name. And since I wasn't familiar with the show, I figured the dude was just a really big fan of mine. (Although I'd be confused when he'd say, "Fuck YOU, Jere!" for no reason.)
Monday, April 25, 2005
Some Syndrome Stuff
Something I forgot, about Sterling, yesterday:
Andy Phillips, the yankee backup first baseman, had a good day at the plate. Sterling's call on his home run was "Andy fills it up!" Like, Fill-up. Phillips. Terrible. Anyway, he went on to talk about how he knows how it's just one game, and how he's "been around," (he told us the history of Sterling just to prove that) and he knows that the guy's not gonna hit a home run every game. (Jon: "If he did, that'd be 162 homers!" Suzyn: "ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha." And she wasn't laughing sarcastically, either.) So after this whole spiel about how amazing this Phillips is, while essentially pretending to not get too excited about it, he then says, "Now here's Bubba Crosby..."
Who, as you know if you paid attention last year, had one amazing game for the yanks and did nothing after that. It's called Timo Perez Syndrome. That's what I wrote about it almost exactly a year ago.
I swear, Sterling talks so much this year, he has to be missing pitches. The other day, he and traitor-lady were talking about the NFL draft. Here's how it went down:
Suzyn: "I actually heard a reporter say with a straight face, 'This will be a long draft,' and I thought, As opposed to what?"
Jon: "As opposed to what, exactly. Three-two pitch, gr-- As opposed to the Paris Peace Treaty!"
(much unwarranted yet somehow real chuckling from both)
Then they kept talking, then another pitch was thrown, and the at bat ended. So what the hell was "Gr--"? Grounded foul? His Paris Peace Treaty line was more important than telling us what happened on the play? He's just losing it, I tell you. Whatever Steinbrenner shot him up with to make him go from sluggish and pessimistic in spring training to non-stop and yank-ily arrogant as he used to be is going to his brain. And he gets made fun of on the FAN just about every day, so it's not just me that's noticing.
About my diet: I admit, I forgot about "that time of the month." Yes, in the unabridged version (400 pp., $29.99 U.S., email me to order), you will see that it IS okay to take medicine for PMS. I can't relate, so I can't say that drugs aren't allowed in that case. Thanks for the heads up, zaga. (Also, don't think you need to stop with the nicknames. Minutiae is what this blog is all about. Bring it on.)
We just lost a crappy game to the O's. I had a bad feeling about Wells tonight, but only because it was so cold. I imagined him doing poorly, and then blaming the cold. It's probably what got him hurt tonight, but I don't really know. Didn't get a good look at it on the radio. I'm glad I didn't have to go to this cold loss. I traded away tickets to tonight's game (along with others) for my Opening Day ticket. I apologize to whoever ended up going tonight.
RIP Earl Wilson, the first black pitcher the Red Sox ever had. Castiglione said a lot of good things about him tonight. Sounds like he was a great guy.
Andy Phillips, the yankee backup first baseman, had a good day at the plate. Sterling's call on his home run was "Andy fills it up!" Like, Fill-up. Phillips. Terrible. Anyway, he went on to talk about how he knows how it's just one game, and how he's "been around," (he told us the history of Sterling just to prove that) and he knows that the guy's not gonna hit a home run every game. (Jon: "If he did, that'd be 162 homers!" Suzyn: "ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha." And she wasn't laughing sarcastically, either.) So after this whole spiel about how amazing this Phillips is, while essentially pretending to not get too excited about it, he then says, "Now here's Bubba Crosby..."
Who, as you know if you paid attention last year, had one amazing game for the yanks and did nothing after that. It's called Timo Perez Syndrome. That's what I wrote about it almost exactly a year ago.
I swear, Sterling talks so much this year, he has to be missing pitches. The other day, he and traitor-lady were talking about the NFL draft. Here's how it went down:
Suzyn: "I actually heard a reporter say with a straight face, 'This will be a long draft,' and I thought, As opposed to what?"
Jon: "As opposed to what, exactly. Three-two pitch, gr-- As opposed to the Paris Peace Treaty!"
(much unwarranted yet somehow real chuckling from both)
Then they kept talking, then another pitch was thrown, and the at bat ended. So what the hell was "Gr--"? Grounded foul? His Paris Peace Treaty line was more important than telling us what happened on the play? He's just losing it, I tell you. Whatever Steinbrenner shot him up with to make him go from sluggish and pessimistic in spring training to non-stop and yank-ily arrogant as he used to be is going to his brain. And he gets made fun of on the FAN just about every day, so it's not just me that's noticing.
About my diet: I admit, I forgot about "that time of the month." Yes, in the unabridged version (400 pp., $29.99 U.S., email me to order), you will see that it IS okay to take medicine for PMS. I can't relate, so I can't say that drugs aren't allowed in that case. Thanks for the heads up, zaga. (Also, don't think you need to stop with the nicknames. Minutiae is what this blog is all about. Bring it on.)
We just lost a crappy game to the O's. I had a bad feeling about Wells tonight, but only because it was so cold. I imagined him doing poorly, and then blaming the cold. It's probably what got him hurt tonight, but I don't really know. Didn't get a good look at it on the radio. I'm glad I didn't have to go to this cold loss. I traded away tickets to tonight's game (along with others) for my Opening Day ticket. I apologize to whoever ended up going tonight.
RIP Earl Wilson, the first black pitcher the Red Sox ever had. Castiglione said a lot of good things about him tonight. Sounds like he was a great guy.
Sunday, April 24, 2005
Weekend Update
Despite having listened to Jon Sterling on the radio for thousands of hours over the last decade and a half, today's broadcast was particularly disgusting. Example: Jeter makes a nice play on a ground ball in the hole. Sterling caps off his call by saying, "What a play by Jeter! He's great! He's SO GREAT!"
J. Christ, man, settle down.
So the yanks lost two out of three, and so did we. But I'd say losing two out of three to the D-Rays and not losing any ground to the yanks is okay. Still 3 up on 'em.
About today's brawl, which looked more like a mosh pit, especially with Johnny's hair bouncing around in the middle of it:
I thought the Rays handled this all wrong. Their retaliation against Manny made no sense, as he'd been thrown at before in the series. It seemed like they should have gone after someone else. Then, to be warned, and throw at someone again in the same inning is just stupid. But to suddenly bring throwing at someone's head into the mix means you're basically asking for a fight. I knew we'd throw ejection-threat to the wind and throw at them again after that. Arroyo did it (he says it was an accident, who knows) because they knew he was coming out of the game anyway. I can't believe Trot got tossed for doing nothing. He'll probably get suspended while Dirt Dog's lover, the classy Gary Sheffield, gets off scot-free. Every suspension or fine will now be compared, by me, to Sheffield punching a fan and not getting any punishment.
The important thing is that we avoided getting swept by the Rays. And I actually got to watch all three games for a change. I love watching NESN. Every commercial is about winning the World Series. And all the announcers, hosts, and co-hosts are cool, and seem to feel like part of the organization without being stupid about it, like the yankee folks are. I will say that the camera work could use some help. They missed entire plays and pitches at times. Maybe there's some rookies in the truck or something.
Oh, and are the Devil Rays an affiliate of the yankees or something? The yanks play in Tampa in March. Steinbrenner lives there. Piniella's the manager. The stadium plays the same BS music that yankee stadium does. You know, the same "da da da DA, da Daaa, Charge!" crap that yankee fans need because they don't know how to cheer without music or the scoreboard telling them to. Right down to that song that sounds like it belongs at a wedding that people clap along to. But what clinched it for me was when, today, they played "Cotton Eye Joe," during the seventh inning stretch. Just like they do at every game at yankee Stadium. If you've never been to yankee Stadium, "Cotton Eye Joe" is usually the point where you make the decision that there's no point in ever returning to that hole. After dealing with the loud drunks for seven innings, having had to wait a half hour for a pretzel, and having walked around in puddles of piss and watching the game from either five hundred feet away or ten stories up, that god forsaken song comes on and everybody claps along while a guy in a straw hat dances on the scoreboard, and your only hope is that you have two bullets left so that you can take out Steinbrenner before putting yourself out of your misery.
So you can imagine how I felt when Tropicana field played that song.
Watching road games also makes me think about just how awesome being a "Boston Pilgrim" is. I'm psyched for going to Cleveland and Philly this season. And who knows, maybe the World Series road games will be a little closer than St. Louis this year. Go Mets, Phillies, and Nationals, with a minor in Reds!
J. Christ, man, settle down.
So the yanks lost two out of three, and so did we. But I'd say losing two out of three to the D-Rays and not losing any ground to the yanks is okay. Still 3 up on 'em.
About today's brawl, which looked more like a mosh pit, especially with Johnny's hair bouncing around in the middle of it:
I thought the Rays handled this all wrong. Their retaliation against Manny made no sense, as he'd been thrown at before in the series. It seemed like they should have gone after someone else. Then, to be warned, and throw at someone again in the same inning is just stupid. But to suddenly bring throwing at someone's head into the mix means you're basically asking for a fight. I knew we'd throw ejection-threat to the wind and throw at them again after that. Arroyo did it (he says it was an accident, who knows) because they knew he was coming out of the game anyway. I can't believe Trot got tossed for doing nothing. He'll probably get suspended while Dirt Dog's lover, the classy Gary Sheffield, gets off scot-free. Every suspension or fine will now be compared, by me, to Sheffield punching a fan and not getting any punishment.
The important thing is that we avoided getting swept by the Rays. And I actually got to watch all three games for a change. I love watching NESN. Every commercial is about winning the World Series. And all the announcers, hosts, and co-hosts are cool, and seem to feel like part of the organization without being stupid about it, like the yankee folks are. I will say that the camera work could use some help. They missed entire plays and pitches at times. Maybe there's some rookies in the truck or something.
Oh, and are the Devil Rays an affiliate of the yankees or something? The yanks play in Tampa in March. Steinbrenner lives there. Piniella's the manager. The stadium plays the same BS music that yankee stadium does. You know, the same "da da da DA, da Daaa, Charge!" crap that yankee fans need because they don't know how to cheer without music or the scoreboard telling them to. Right down to that song that sounds like it belongs at a wedding that people clap along to. But what clinched it for me was when, today, they played "Cotton Eye Joe," during the seventh inning stretch. Just like they do at every game at yankee Stadium. If you've never been to yankee Stadium, "Cotton Eye Joe" is usually the point where you make the decision that there's no point in ever returning to that hole. After dealing with the loud drunks for seven innings, having had to wait a half hour for a pretzel, and having walked around in puddles of piss and watching the game from either five hundred feet away or ten stories up, that god forsaken song comes on and everybody claps along while a guy in a straw hat dances on the scoreboard, and your only hope is that you have two bullets left so that you can take out Steinbrenner before putting yourself out of your misery.
So you can imagine how I felt when Tropicana field played that song.
Watching road games also makes me think about just how awesome being a "Boston Pilgrim" is. I'm psyched for going to Cleveland and Philly this season. And who knows, maybe the World Series road games will be a little closer than St. Louis this year. Go Mets, Phillies, and Nationals, with a minor in Reds!
The Jere Diet
Step One: Learn Your Food Groups
Group One--Junk
Junk food is the most important food group. Its great taste and often gooey/sloppy appearance keeps one's happiness level high. Don't eat it for dinner or anything, but always make time for this critical group. If you're really huge, eat it maybe a little less, but still eat it. Remember, your metabolism determines your weight, so for some of you, dieting won't work. Just have fun, knowing that fatter people are usually loved for their wacky demeanor and healthy gut-laugh, and are only made fun of when they act like an asshole or eat Wendy's every meal. Also, sitting around all day can be bad.
Group Two--Other
Other foods are somewhat important for eating during meal time. Eat two or three of these meals a day. Don't get hung up on this stuff, just eat it. If you think any of these foods are as good as or better than sex, you've never had an orgasm. Learn how to have one.
Group Three--Water
Drink water all the friggin' time. It's good for you. It's what keeps you alive. Avoid any other liquid. Except apple juice, which is also pretty good. Oh, and drink a glass of orange juice with NO PULP every morning. This replaces vitamin pills which are mostly placebos. If you drink OJ at night, put ice in it, as for some reason, it tastes weird at night without ice.
Step Two: Run Around
Run around all the time. It keeps you healthy. Avoid gyms, as people there are mostly dicks, and make you feel bad about yourself. If you can only exercise in a gym, listen to Metallica's "Shortest Straw" for a more thorough workout. Avoid all Metallica from after the eighties, as it will make you sluggish and bland.
Step Three: Avoid Medicines
They're all made to make you need more. In the words of Chris Rock: "A cure for AIDS? That'd be like a cadillac that lasts fifty years." Doctors need to make money. They'll never give you the real cure. But, like there are a select few good cops, there are a select few good doctors. Find one you can trust, and listen to them, but always be stubborn and do what you think is right in the end.
Step Four: Women's Health
Look, ladies, consider yourself lucky that larger butts are in vogue and widely accepted. In the words of Sir Mix-A-Lot, "You can do side bends and sit-ups, but please don't lose that butt." Society has totally screwed you over and you're always going to think you're too fat. But you've got to trust us when we say you're not, and nobody cares anyway. If you're a nice person, people will like you.
Follow these steps, and you too can be a Red Sox blogger.
Group One--Junk
Junk food is the most important food group. Its great taste and often gooey/sloppy appearance keeps one's happiness level high. Don't eat it for dinner or anything, but always make time for this critical group. If you're really huge, eat it maybe a little less, but still eat it. Remember, your metabolism determines your weight, so for some of you, dieting won't work. Just have fun, knowing that fatter people are usually loved for their wacky demeanor and healthy gut-laugh, and are only made fun of when they act like an asshole or eat Wendy's every meal. Also, sitting around all day can be bad.
Group Two--Other
Other foods are somewhat important for eating during meal time. Eat two or three of these meals a day. Don't get hung up on this stuff, just eat it. If you think any of these foods are as good as or better than sex, you've never had an orgasm. Learn how to have one.
Group Three--Water
Drink water all the friggin' time. It's good for you. It's what keeps you alive. Avoid any other liquid. Except apple juice, which is also pretty good. Oh, and drink a glass of orange juice with NO PULP every morning. This replaces vitamin pills which are mostly placebos. If you drink OJ at night, put ice in it, as for some reason, it tastes weird at night without ice.
Step Two: Run Around
Run around all the time. It keeps you healthy. Avoid gyms, as people there are mostly dicks, and make you feel bad about yourself. If you can only exercise in a gym, listen to Metallica's "Shortest Straw" for a more thorough workout. Avoid all Metallica from after the eighties, as it will make you sluggish and bland.
Step Three: Avoid Medicines
They're all made to make you need more. In the words of Chris Rock: "A cure for AIDS? That'd be like a cadillac that lasts fifty years." Doctors need to make money. They'll never give you the real cure. But, like there are a select few good cops, there are a select few good doctors. Find one you can trust, and listen to them, but always be stubborn and do what you think is right in the end.
Step Four: Women's Health
Look, ladies, consider yourself lucky that larger butts are in vogue and widely accepted. In the words of Sir Mix-A-Lot, "You can do side bends and sit-ups, but please don't lose that butt." Society has totally screwed you over and you're always going to think you're too fat. But you've got to trust us when we say you're not, and nobody cares anyway. If you're a nice person, people will like you.
Follow these steps, and you too can be a Red Sox blogger.
