Saturday, June 04, 2005
Fox Rocks! [Where "Rocks"="Shits The Bed As Usual"]
The one good thing about Fox games is that you get to read all the great McCarver-bashing on the blogs the next day.
Today, Tim's biggest travesty was calling Trot Nixon's baserunning a mistake, when he did exactly the right thing, going halfway on a fly ball that easily could have been caught. Then he said that Trot was "surprised" that a runner went to second on a ball down the right field line, implying that Trot was lazy in the field on the play, when in reality, he once again did exactly what he was supposed to do: Waiting to see if the ball hit the boxes, instead of rushing toward the line, which would have been a disaster if the ball had gone down into the corner, before picking up the ball and immediately firing it to second base. Then Tim brought up the baserunning non-mistake again later, just to make sure we knew how he felt about it.
Even if it had been a mistake, it wouldn't have mattered anyway in the end. McCarver wasn't nearly as concerned with the two balls that Vasquez ole'd, neither of which was scored an error, but both of which really cost the team.
If Renteria's gonna sit, why have him do it on a day when Jason sits? And why put the two backups back-to-back in the lineup, virtually killing any chance of an extended rally?
(As I write, Minnesota just hit a three-run homer, which is doubly funny, because Sterling jinxed it in his pre-game interview with Torre, who responded to Sterling's "You know Wang hasn't given up one home run?" with "Shut up, Jon." Ha.)
Yeah, so why can't Edgar play every day? You get a day off when the team has a day off. Other than that, you're young, you're healthy, you're making millions...you're on the field. And to bring in Captain Cheese (who, with all the holes in his performance lately, is Captain Swiss Cheese) is to just throw the game away at this point.
I will say that I made a pretty good prediction today. After Millar's double off the wall, I predicted he'd hit two homers into the monster seats. When he got an out in the third, I said, "He's still got a chance, 5th and 7th." He got one in the 5th and one in the 8th. When bragging about "my" accomplishment, especially the fact that he hit them right where I said he was, my dad pointed out, "Where else would Millar hit a home run?" Good point. And he actually predicted before the game that this would be a break out game for Kevin. But we both would have traded our correct predictions for a win today.
I really can't stand the rigidity of the Fox telecasts. They've got all the times of their interviews pre-planned, so that there might be a play that deserves a replay, but we don't get one, because they've already decided to show something else at that moment. Today, one of Millar's homers was shown in a little tiny square, without sound, because a pre-taped interview with the Angels' pitching coach was being shown in a bigger square. It's an interview. We don't need to see the guy talking, any more than we need to see the announcers talking during the game. Fox is like the Buck Showalter--in 1995, at least--of broadcasting, with their overmanaging. Just show the game. That's job one. Did anybody wake up today and say, "I am dying to know what the Angels' pitching coach has to say about today's game. But I won't be happy unless I personally witness the dude talking, and I'll be damned if Fox has the audacity to interrupt the interview with something as petty as the game itself!"
And Connecticut may get screwed next Saturday. The CT Fox station will have a choice of Sox-Cubs or yanks-Cards. Last year, they chose yanks every time (due to "popularity," as they told me by e-mail). So if you live in CT, even if you have NESN, you don't get the game if they choose the yanks. I did notice that our game has top-billing next week, so maybe that will force Fox-61 to choose us. That and the fact that it's the World Champs playing in Wrigley Field for the first time. (The Cubs' home games in the 1918 World Series were played at Comiskey Park, rather than Weeghman Park--later named Wrigley Field--because of Comiskey's larger seating capacity.
Great job by Bronson today. He wasn't nervously jumping off the mound like last time. Too bad Tito Cheesed him over. Also, we got to see Bronson singing and playing guitar on top of the Monster before the game. The Fuel song he played is actually one I like, despite my usual ripping of late-90s almost-rock. I remember working at Borders when that tune came out. This hippie girl, Kate Z., whose brother's middle name was Obodeodo, saw me buying that single, and admitted that she liked it as well, despite hating the rest of the radio hits of the era. I told her I was in the exact same boat. Weird how a person from a punk background can find a mainstream song that they and a person from a hippie background can both like. She was cool, that Kate Z., but it wasn't to be for us, as we were from different worlds...and she was into chicks.
Today, Tim's biggest travesty was calling Trot Nixon's baserunning a mistake, when he did exactly the right thing, going halfway on a fly ball that easily could have been caught. Then he said that Trot was "surprised" that a runner went to second on a ball down the right field line, implying that Trot was lazy in the field on the play, when in reality, he once again did exactly what he was supposed to do: Waiting to see if the ball hit the boxes, instead of rushing toward the line, which would have been a disaster if the ball had gone down into the corner, before picking up the ball and immediately firing it to second base. Then Tim brought up the baserunning non-mistake again later, just to make sure we knew how he felt about it.
Even if it had been a mistake, it wouldn't have mattered anyway in the end. McCarver wasn't nearly as concerned with the two balls that Vasquez ole'd, neither of which was scored an error, but both of which really cost the team.
If Renteria's gonna sit, why have him do it on a day when Jason sits? And why put the two backups back-to-back in the lineup, virtually killing any chance of an extended rally?
(As I write, Minnesota just hit a three-run homer, which is doubly funny, because Sterling jinxed it in his pre-game interview with Torre, who responded to Sterling's "You know Wang hasn't given up one home run?" with "Shut up, Jon." Ha.)
Yeah, so why can't Edgar play every day? You get a day off when the team has a day off. Other than that, you're young, you're healthy, you're making millions...you're on the field. And to bring in Captain Cheese (who, with all the holes in his performance lately, is Captain Swiss Cheese) is to just throw the game away at this point.
I will say that I made a pretty good prediction today. After Millar's double off the wall, I predicted he'd hit two homers into the monster seats. When he got an out in the third, I said, "He's still got a chance, 5th and 7th." He got one in the 5th and one in the 8th. When bragging about "my" accomplishment, especially the fact that he hit them right where I said he was, my dad pointed out, "Where else would Millar hit a home run?" Good point. And he actually predicted before the game that this would be a break out game for Kevin. But we both would have traded our correct predictions for a win today.
I really can't stand the rigidity of the Fox telecasts. They've got all the times of their interviews pre-planned, so that there might be a play that deserves a replay, but we don't get one, because they've already decided to show something else at that moment. Today, one of Millar's homers was shown in a little tiny square, without sound, because a pre-taped interview with the Angels' pitching coach was being shown in a bigger square. It's an interview. We don't need to see the guy talking, any more than we need to see the announcers talking during the game. Fox is like the Buck Showalter--in 1995, at least--of broadcasting, with their overmanaging. Just show the game. That's job one. Did anybody wake up today and say, "I am dying to know what the Angels' pitching coach has to say about today's game. But I won't be happy unless I personally witness the dude talking, and I'll be damned if Fox has the audacity to interrupt the interview with something as petty as the game itself!"
And Connecticut may get screwed next Saturday. The CT Fox station will have a choice of Sox-Cubs or yanks-Cards. Last year, they chose yanks every time (due to "popularity," as they told me by e-mail). So if you live in CT, even if you have NESN, you don't get the game if they choose the yanks. I did notice that our game has top-billing next week, so maybe that will force Fox-61 to choose us. That and the fact that it's the World Champs playing in Wrigley Field for the first time. (The Cubs' home games in the 1918 World Series were played at Comiskey Park, rather than Weeghman Park--later named Wrigley Field--because of Comiskey's larger seating capacity.
Great job by Bronson today. He wasn't nervously jumping off the mound like last time. Too bad Tito Cheesed him over. Also, we got to see Bronson singing and playing guitar on top of the Monster before the game. The Fuel song he played is actually one I like, despite my usual ripping of late-90s almost-rock. I remember working at Borders when that tune came out. This hippie girl, Kate Z., whose brother's middle name was Obodeodo, saw me buying that single, and admitted that she liked it as well, despite hating the rest of the radio hits of the era. I told her I was in the exact same boat. Weird how a person from a punk background can find a mainstream song that they and a person from a hippie background can both like. She was cool, that Kate Z., but it wasn't to be for us, as we were from different worlds...and she was into chicks.
Friday, June 03, 2005
Johnny Thunders A Glam-Winning Hit
Johnny Damon's got a new look. With that clean-shaven face, flowing locks, and the facial injuries causing him to look like a glam-rocker, I think he should be called "Johnny Thunders" for a while, although he could really pass for any member of:
Or even "Damon Bowie."
Check him out. That right side of his face has the blush, the Cleopatra-style mascara, it's amazing (but even more so on TV):
I'm feelin' good all over after watching the love-fest at Fenway tonight. (I'm in NESN country after hauling crap from old storage area--my sister's house--to new storage area--my parents' house.)
The Cabrera ovation was beautiful. (Dirt dog must have told the fans to do it, how else would they have known??? By the way, why is he still in my links section, especially after he kicked me off the boston.com feedster? He's coming off right now.) Orlando also thanked me and you in a pre-game interview. I'll see him in September at Fenway.
The result of the game was equally beautiful. Johnny Damon with the key three-run, game-winning double. Ah, the three-run double. I believe this is my favorite type of hit in baseball. It sounds like a dessert.
"I'll have the three-run double."
"Would you like that 'game-winning'?"
David Lander, TV's "Squiggy," was interviewed before and during the game. He has MS and is going around the country spreading the word about fighting the disease. But he goes around the country anyway, because Squiggy is a scout for the Mariners! Wow. You learn something new roughly 1.0 times a day. As it turns out, he was a baseball writer before going into acting. Also note his baseball predictions on his website, where he picks the Sox to win the east, and takes a jab at the yanks. He also said that "Lenny & Squiggy" were characters Michael McKeon and he had been doing for nine years before they wrote them into Laverne & Shirley. (Remember whe they reunited on SNL for "Quentin Tarantino's Welcome Back Kotter"?) And speaking of McKeon, I heard Christopher Guest won't be doing any more "mock-umentaries." That's a shame. But not confirmed.
When one of the NESN people interviewed Mr. Landers during the game, they called him "Lenny." Terrible job. If you're make the embarrassing mistake of calling someone by their character name from thirty years ago, at least say the right name! That's like seeing Barry Williams on the street and yelling, "Hey, Sam the Butcher!"
The yankees are now four losses away from completely negating their ten game win streak. Watching the end of that game tonight after the Sox ended was a nice capper to the evening. I liked how the camera turned the tables on Jeter, cutting immediately to a shot of him in the dugout when the game ended. They may as well have had the words "YOUR FAULT" flashing on the screen in big red letters while showing him. Then they cut to more Twins celebrating, before going right back to the yankee dugout, for a shot of a dejected A-Rod. Ha.
[Edit--stuff I forgot: Lou Merloni was interviewed tonight, and they didn't even ask him how he felt when the Sox won it all! Or whether or not he got a ring. Hey, I can dream on his behalf. Good to see Lou, says he'll be out for the year with his injury. Bruce Hurst was interviewed, and he professed his continuing love for the Sox, saying how great it was last year, and that he loved the fans so much that he even liked it when he was booed. And I guess the "B Ruth Curse" anagram is no longer relevant. Finally, With City Sox Girl was talking about the "Mr. T In Your Pocket" the other day, a device which I, naturally, own. I wanted to do an audioblog and play T's six classic sayings, but audioblogger seems to be out of commission. So I'll have to write them out. (Say them in your best T voice.)
1. "I pity the fool"
2. "Don't gimme no backtalk, sucka"
3. "Quit your jibba jabba"
4. "Don't make me mad. Rrrrrrrr"
5. "First name Mister, middle name Period, last name...T"
6. "Shut up, fool"]
Or even "Damon Bowie."
Check him out. That right side of his face has the blush, the Cleopatra-style mascara, it's amazing (but even more so on TV):
I'm feelin' good all over after watching the love-fest at Fenway tonight. (I'm in NESN country after hauling crap from old storage area--my sister's house--to new storage area--my parents' house.)
The Cabrera ovation was beautiful. (Dirt dog must have told the fans to do it, how else would they have known??? By the way, why is he still in my links section, especially after he kicked me off the boston.com feedster? He's coming off right now.) Orlando also thanked me and you in a pre-game interview. I'll see him in September at Fenway.
The result of the game was equally beautiful. Johnny Damon with the key three-run, game-winning double. Ah, the three-run double. I believe this is my favorite type of hit in baseball. It sounds like a dessert.
"I'll have the three-run double."
"Would you like that 'game-winning'?"
David Lander, TV's "Squiggy," was interviewed before and during the game. He has MS and is going around the country spreading the word about fighting the disease. But he goes around the country anyway, because Squiggy is a scout for the Mariners! Wow. You learn something new roughly 1.0 times a day. As it turns out, he was a baseball writer before going into acting. Also note his baseball predictions on his website, where he picks the Sox to win the east, and takes a jab at the yanks. He also said that "Lenny & Squiggy" were characters Michael McKeon and he had been doing for nine years before they wrote them into Laverne & Shirley. (Remember whe they reunited on SNL for "Quentin Tarantino's Welcome Back Kotter"?) And speaking of McKeon, I heard Christopher Guest won't be doing any more "mock-umentaries." That's a shame. But not confirmed.
When one of the NESN people interviewed Mr. Landers during the game, they called him "Lenny." Terrible job. If you're make the embarrassing mistake of calling someone by their character name from thirty years ago, at least say the right name! That's like seeing Barry Williams on the street and yelling, "Hey, Sam the Butcher!"
The yankees are now four losses away from completely negating their ten game win streak. Watching the end of that game tonight after the Sox ended was a nice capper to the evening. I liked how the camera turned the tables on Jeter, cutting immediately to a shot of him in the dugout when the game ended. They may as well have had the words "YOUR FAULT" flashing on the screen in big red letters while showing him. Then they cut to more Twins celebrating, before going right back to the yankee dugout, for a shot of a dejected A-Rod. Ha.
[Edit--stuff I forgot: Lou Merloni was interviewed tonight, and they didn't even ask him how he felt when the Sox won it all! Or whether or not he got a ring. Hey, I can dream on his behalf. Good to see Lou, says he'll be out for the year with his injury. Bruce Hurst was interviewed, and he professed his continuing love for the Sox, saying how great it was last year, and that he loved the fans so much that he even liked it when he was booed. And I guess the "B Ruth Curse" anagram is no longer relevant. Finally, With City Sox Girl was talking about the "Mr. T In Your Pocket" the other day, a device which I, naturally, own. I wanted to do an audioblog and play T's six classic sayings, but audioblogger seems to be out of commission. So I'll have to write them out. (Say them in your best T voice.)
1. "I pity the fool"
2. "Don't gimme no backtalk, sucka"
3. "Quit your jibba jabba"
4. "Don't make me mad. Rrrrrrrr"
5. "First name Mister, middle name Period, last name...T"
6. "Shut up, fool"]
NYC Sox Fans
Two of the newer Red Sox blogs by people who live in New York City like me.
Miles from Fenway, by a woman called Finy.
The Life of Akins and the Red Sox by a dude called Akins.
Check 'em out.
Miles from Fenway, by a woman called Finy.
The Life of Akins and the Red Sox by a dude called Akins.
Check 'em out.
Favorite Sox, From A To Z, (Part Eye)
Here's part one of a list of my favorite Red Sox players for each letter of the alphabet.
Rules: 1. Has to be a dude I remember. (I was born in '75, knew the names by '78, have audio-taped proof.) 2. Can't be on a 2004 post-season player, as the list would get overrun with those guys. Just know I love them all, although I'm not exactly building any shrines to Ramiro Mendoza at this point. 3. I think that's it for rules. Except to say that rules can be broken at any time. And I'm just gonna write each name; there won't be any letter headings, i.e. "Q:". Just look at the first letter of each name, and you'll know what letter I'm on. Duh. And it's by last name. Duh again. (HM=Honorable Mention.)
Tony Armas, 83-86. One of the first guys I thought of as "new". Joined Jim Rice as a huge power hitter. Had I heard "Toe knee arm ass" at that age, I would have liked him even more. But I guess you had to live closer to Boston to know these secret sayings. HM: Benny Agbayani, 02. Was Hawaiian. And got a lot of hits right away.
Oil Can Boyd, 82-89. The Can. Totally nuts. Come on. HM: Jack Brohamer, 78-80. Always used to draw pictures of him, using his baseball card as a guide. Liked how his name sounded like Jackhammer. HM: Darren Bragg, 96-98. Got dirty. Was from CT.
Roger Clemens, 84-96. Would have killed to be him then, would kill him now. HM=Mark Clear, 81-85. Learned about his "slurve" in the yearbook, circa '83.
Dick Drago, 74-75, 78-80. Kids like dragons. And weird moustaches. Sometimes. HM: Brian Daubach, 99-02, 04. I don't know, just always liked Daubach, despite what Pat once called his "oafish looks."
Dwight Evans, 72-90. So good to have a constant in your life. From birth to age 15, Dewey was there, and he'd gun you out at third from the wall. Also, toe-up stance and curly moustache. HM: Nick Esasky, 87. Had vertigo and a red beard, and was the home run king of the summer of '87. HM: Mike Easler, 84-85. The hit man. I actually thought "hit man" was another term for "designated hitter" at that time, because Ken Coleman would announce his name and then say "the hit man," like it was his position.
Carlton Fisk, 69, 71-80. My mom still can't believe he went to the White Sox. HM: Jeff Frye, 96-97, 99-00. And a little child shall lead them.
Tie: Rich Gedman, 80-90. Geddy Gasoline. Mentioned more on this blog than any other Red Sox. Nomar Garciaparra, 96-04. In our hearts always. HM: Jackie Gutierrez, 83-85. aka Jackie G. I like shortstops. And the name Jack, for some reason. [edit: this is actually a three-way tie. How could I forget Mike Greenwell, one of my all-time faves? Refused to trade him for Mattingly (obviously) in my rotisserie league that I did through the mail at age 13 before anybody did that stuff.]
Butch Hobson, 75-80. Loved the look of him, with the eye black and the flip up shades, and the black stripes showing on the stirrups. Wouldn't make my manager-by-letter list, though. HM: Sam Horn 87-89. Almost embarrassd to put him here, for fear people would think it has anything to do with his current popularity. But read my post about my Sam Horn experience from April '04. HM: Greg Harris, 89-94. Pitched with both hands!
Daryl Irvine, 90-92. The only Red Sox player ever whose named started with the letter "I," and the inspiration for this list. HM: Daryl Irvine, 90-92. See above.
Ed Jurak, 82-85. Loved the Scrabble-centric name. "They don't pronounce the J's up in New England, White."--Phil Rizzuto (Bill White was Scooter's partner in the booth.) HM: Reggie Jefferson, 95-99. Underrated. And I liked to taunt yankee fans with the Reg-gie chant. (Chanting "Boston Sucks" at them when Daryl Boston played for the yanks wasn't nearly as cool, or accepted.)
Randy Kutcher, 88-90. Loved the scrappy kid. He was scrappy, right? We called him Batman, but I forget why. It certainly didn't have to do with hitting! But the movie Batman came out right at that time. HM: Bruce Kison, 85. For the karate kick alone.
Fred Lynn, 74-80. Kids like names that sound like Fred Flinstone. Great ballplayer, great guy, still loves the Sox. Rookie of the Year in the year I was born. HM: Steve Lyons, 85-86, 91, 92, 93. Loved Psycho I, lost interest with the sequels, and especially in the Fox years. HM: Bill Lee, 69-78. I Discovered the wonders of Lee later in life, only vaguely remember him from when I was three. HM: Carney Lansford, 81-82. One of my first favorites, but got injured right away. Was psyched to get his baseball sticker in a pack in my Easter basket in '82. (My sister came away with the 45 of J. Geils' "Centerfold" b/w "Rage In A Cage" in her basket, a controversial move by the bunny, because of the content of "Centerfold.")
Lou Merloni, 98-99, 00-02, 03. Hustled. Local guy. Hope he got slipped a ring. HM: Bob Montgomery, 70-79. Loved the tape around the bat, last catcher to wear 10 before Gedman. (I told him that when I got his autograph. He certainly didn't care. I'm an idiot.) But I really got to know him as Monty, Sean McDonough's broadcast partner. HM: Rick Miller, 71-77, 81-85. Another guy I just liked the look of as a kid. And I liked the hard sounding letters. RRRickk MiLLeRRR. And 3 is my third favorite number. Was glad to see him at the parade.
Tune in next time for part two. By next time I mean eventually.
Rules: 1. Has to be a dude I remember. (I was born in '75, knew the names by '78, have audio-taped proof.) 2. Can't be on a 2004 post-season player, as the list would get overrun with those guys. Just know I love them all, although I'm not exactly building any shrines to Ramiro Mendoza at this point. 3. I think that's it for rules. Except to say that rules can be broken at any time. And I'm just gonna write each name; there won't be any letter headings, i.e. "Q:". Just look at the first letter of each name, and you'll know what letter I'm on. Duh. And it's by last name. Duh again. (HM=Honorable Mention.)
Tony Armas, 83-86. One of the first guys I thought of as "new". Joined Jim Rice as a huge power hitter. Had I heard "Toe knee arm ass" at that age, I would have liked him even more. But I guess you had to live closer to Boston to know these secret sayings. HM: Benny Agbayani, 02. Was Hawaiian. And got a lot of hits right away.
Oil Can Boyd, 82-89. The Can. Totally nuts. Come on. HM: Jack Brohamer, 78-80. Always used to draw pictures of him, using his baseball card as a guide. Liked how his name sounded like Jackhammer. HM: Darren Bragg, 96-98. Got dirty. Was from CT.
Roger Clemens, 84-96. Would have killed to be him then, would kill him now. HM=Mark Clear, 81-85. Learned about his "slurve" in the yearbook, circa '83.
Dick Drago, 74-75, 78-80. Kids like dragons. And weird moustaches. Sometimes. HM: Brian Daubach, 99-02, 04. I don't know, just always liked Daubach, despite what Pat once called his "oafish looks."
Dwight Evans, 72-90. So good to have a constant in your life. From birth to age 15, Dewey was there, and he'd gun you out at third from the wall. Also, toe-up stance and curly moustache. HM: Nick Esasky, 87. Had vertigo and a red beard, and was the home run king of the summer of '87. HM: Mike Easler, 84-85. The hit man. I actually thought "hit man" was another term for "designated hitter" at that time, because Ken Coleman would announce his name and then say "the hit man," like it was his position.
Carlton Fisk, 69, 71-80. My mom still can't believe he went to the White Sox. HM: Jeff Frye, 96-97, 99-00. And a little child shall lead them.
Tie: Rich Gedman, 80-90. Geddy Gasoline. Mentioned more on this blog than any other Red Sox. Nomar Garciaparra, 96-04. In our hearts always. HM: Jackie Gutierrez, 83-85. aka Jackie G. I like shortstops. And the name Jack, for some reason. [edit: this is actually a three-way tie. How could I forget Mike Greenwell, one of my all-time faves? Refused to trade him for Mattingly (obviously) in my rotisserie league that I did through the mail at age 13 before anybody did that stuff.]
Butch Hobson, 75-80. Loved the look of him, with the eye black and the flip up shades, and the black stripes showing on the stirrups. Wouldn't make my manager-by-letter list, though. HM: Sam Horn 87-89. Almost embarrassd to put him here, for fear people would think it has anything to do with his current popularity. But read my post about my Sam Horn experience from April '04. HM: Greg Harris, 89-94. Pitched with both hands!
Daryl Irvine, 90-92. The only Red Sox player ever whose named started with the letter "I," and the inspiration for this list. HM: Daryl Irvine, 90-92. See above.
Ed Jurak, 82-85. Loved the Scrabble-centric name. "They don't pronounce the J's up in New England, White."--Phil Rizzuto (Bill White was Scooter's partner in the booth.) HM: Reggie Jefferson, 95-99. Underrated. And I liked to taunt yankee fans with the Reg-gie chant. (Chanting "Boston Sucks" at them when Daryl Boston played for the yanks wasn't nearly as cool, or accepted.)
Randy Kutcher, 88-90. Loved the scrappy kid. He was scrappy, right? We called him Batman, but I forget why. It certainly didn't have to do with hitting! But the movie Batman came out right at that time. HM: Bruce Kison, 85. For the karate kick alone.
Fred Lynn, 74-80. Kids like names that sound like Fred Flinstone. Great ballplayer, great guy, still loves the Sox. Rookie of the Year in the year I was born. HM: Steve Lyons, 85-86, 91, 92, 93. Loved Psycho I, lost interest with the sequels, and especially in the Fox years. HM: Bill Lee, 69-78. I Discovered the wonders of Lee later in life, only vaguely remember him from when I was three. HM: Carney Lansford, 81-82. One of my first favorites, but got injured right away. Was psyched to get his baseball sticker in a pack in my Easter basket in '82. (My sister came away with the 45 of J. Geils' "Centerfold" b/w "Rage In A Cage" in her basket, a controversial move by the bunny, because of the content of "Centerfold.")
Lou Merloni, 98-99, 00-02, 03. Hustled. Local guy. Hope he got slipped a ring. HM: Bob Montgomery, 70-79. Loved the tape around the bat, last catcher to wear 10 before Gedman. (I told him that when I got his autograph. He certainly didn't care. I'm an idiot.) But I really got to know him as Monty, Sean McDonough's broadcast partner. HM: Rick Miller, 71-77, 81-85. Another guy I just liked the look of as a kid. And I liked the hard sounding letters. RRRickk MiLLeRRR. And 3 is my third favorite number. Was glad to see him at the parade.
Tune in next time for part two. By next time I mean eventually.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Papi. Gold. Again.
These at-work games are crazy. Between being 3/4 asleep from my new reverse-commute schedule, and trying to keep track of the Red Sox on the 8-track of game-coverage, MLB Gameday, I don't know how I'm supposed to get any work done.
I get a ten-minute break in the afternoon, so I always have to choose my spot wisely, knowing that I can hear about a half an inning on my car radio. Today, I chose bottom-8 to go out there. I stayed in the car until the ninth, heard the O's take the lead, and then had to go back in, stuck "watching" Gameday for the bottom of the ninth.
One man on. Two out. Edgar bunts for a hit? Must be a mistake.
By the time Ortiz comes up, the imaginary crowd in my head is going wild. Three and one. Then, "Pitch 5: Foul." 3-2. And that foul could have been tipped, landing at his feet, or a home run-distance fly ball, just to the right of the pole, like in The Natural. Now Ortiz could be getting a new bat. "Pick me out a winner, Bobby."
The young Bobby Savoy brings out the bat he and Ortiz made together. "Savoy Special."
Come on, screen, say "home run". Say "home run"! Here's the pitch.
"Pitch 6: In play, run-scoring play."
Oh yeah, we're playin' with the house's money now. It's at least tied. The ball could be floating through the air, headed for the bleachers. Or it could be bouncing around the dugout after a bad throw, tying the game. No idea. Please tell me.
"Ortiz homers..."
That's all I need to read. I walk (past my boss, who has no idea that I'm jumping up and down in my mind) to the phone, knowing that I need to confirm this with someone who's actually watching the game. Rebecca tells me that it is real. Another amazing work-day afternoon, comeback, walkoff win.
Great job, Red Sox.
The yanks are one strike away from getting swept as I write this. By the worst team in baseball. The Royals announcers (I've got Gameday Audio on here) just said that the Royals have gone 78 series' without sweeping a team. Bernie's up. 3-2, 2 out. Kauffman Stadium chants "yankees suck," but the announcer says, "Crowd chanting 'sweeep'." Uh, not quite, sir. Bernie walked. Sierra is up. Station ID. WHB, my exlusive home of the Kansas City Royals.
Bases loaded. Royals up 3.
Come on, KC.
2-0. Crap. Throw strikes, man. 2-1 now. I hope he hits one to the warning track for a game ending out, just to excite Francesa for a moment. 2-2. Foul. Still 2-2. Hahhahahhahaha! It's over. yanks swept by Kansas City. So funny how all the arrogance came back, and it was totally assumed that the yanks would sweep. But they got swept.
Now can we all please not say things like, "Well, you know the yanks will snap out of it." I don't mean to get all Cossette-y on your ass, but just keep thinking that they're gonna lose. And that we're a great team who can't be held down for long. World Champs: We will win! World Chumps: They will lose! Positive thinking. We know it works. Stay focused. Okay, so we're cool, then? Sweet.
So it's June. Here's what's on tap for me: June 15th vs. Reds, Upper Bleacher. June 18th vs. Pirates, in the ten-game plan seats, section fo'-three. June 20 and 21: Jere goes to Ohio--at Cleveland, right field upper deck. June 24th: Jere goes to that weird state--at Philadelphia, forget where the seats are. Root for my camera to work, if you want to see pics from these games.
I've still got the Royals station on. There was an ad for Sonic, who has a contest, where you win something if the Royals hit an "over-the-wall" grand slam during a certain inning. What the H? Imagine how pissed you'd be, seeing an inside-the-park grand slam during the special inning, going up to claim you prize, and being told, "Sorry, sir, it has to go over the wall." (Also, if you're a woman, they'd have added insult to injury, with the whole "calling you 'sir'" thing.
Terrible job, Sonic.
Oh my god, I was just about to say how Suzyn Waldman said, while doing the out-of-town scores earlier, that Foulke "obviously blew the save in the top of the ninth." (Obviously false, Suzyn.) And now this Royals announcer says, during their score update, that the Red Sox won with three in the ninth, "two on a David Ortiz home run." This makes me really mad. With all this technology, how can these people get these facts wrong? It's ridiculous. That totally makes it sound like the game was already tied, and Ortiz hit a pressure-free homer. When in reality, we were a strike away from losing when Ortiz hit it out. It's a totally different thing. And on WCBS radio, they recently claimed that the Red Sox won, when they actually lost, on two separate days. I would've really been pissed if I hadn't known the result on one of those days, and heard them say the Sox won, and then walked around all happy, only to find out later that the news got it wrong. In one of those cases, the Sox lost 13-6, and WCBS said they won 6-2. Mind-boggling, really.
Speaking of that, check out this piece of crap article by Ron Borges, who, I kid you not, says, "Ghosts lurk everywhere inside old Fenway Park even this season..." Go die, dude.
I get a ten-minute break in the afternoon, so I always have to choose my spot wisely, knowing that I can hear about a half an inning on my car radio. Today, I chose bottom-8 to go out there. I stayed in the car until the ninth, heard the O's take the lead, and then had to go back in, stuck "watching" Gameday for the bottom of the ninth.
One man on. Two out. Edgar bunts for a hit? Must be a mistake.
By the time Ortiz comes up, the imaginary crowd in my head is going wild. Three and one. Then, "Pitch 5: Foul." 3-2. And that foul could have been tipped, landing at his feet, or a home run-distance fly ball, just to the right of the pole, like in The Natural. Now Ortiz could be getting a new bat. "Pick me out a winner, Bobby."
The young Bobby Savoy brings out the bat he and Ortiz made together. "Savoy Special."
Come on, screen, say "home run". Say "home run"! Here's the pitch.
"Pitch 6: In play, run-scoring play."
Oh yeah, we're playin' with the house's money now. It's at least tied. The ball could be floating through the air, headed for the bleachers. Or it could be bouncing around the dugout after a bad throw, tying the game. No idea. Please tell me.
"Ortiz homers..."
That's all I need to read. I walk (past my boss, who has no idea that I'm jumping up and down in my mind) to the phone, knowing that I need to confirm this with someone who's actually watching the game. Rebecca tells me that it is real. Another amazing work-day afternoon, comeback, walkoff win.
Great job, Red Sox.
The yanks are one strike away from getting swept as I write this. By the worst team in baseball. The Royals announcers (I've got Gameday Audio on here) just said that the Royals have gone 78 series' without sweeping a team. Bernie's up. 3-2, 2 out. Kauffman Stadium chants "yankees suck," but the announcer says, "Crowd chanting 'sweeep'." Uh, not quite, sir. Bernie walked. Sierra is up. Station ID. WHB, my exlusive home of the Kansas City Royals.
Bases loaded. Royals up 3.
Come on, KC.
2-0. Crap. Throw strikes, man. 2-1 now. I hope he hits one to the warning track for a game ending out, just to excite Francesa for a moment. 2-2. Foul. Still 2-2. Hahhahahhahaha! It's over. yanks swept by Kansas City. So funny how all the arrogance came back, and it was totally assumed that the yanks would sweep. But they got swept.
Now can we all please not say things like, "Well, you know the yanks will snap out of it." I don't mean to get all Cossette-y on your ass, but just keep thinking that they're gonna lose. And that we're a great team who can't be held down for long. World Champs: We will win! World Chumps: They will lose! Positive thinking. We know it works. Stay focused. Okay, so we're cool, then? Sweet.
So it's June. Here's what's on tap for me: June 15th vs. Reds, Upper Bleacher. June 18th vs. Pirates, in the ten-game plan seats, section fo'-three. June 20 and 21: Jere goes to Ohio--at Cleveland, right field upper deck. June 24th: Jere goes to that weird state--at Philadelphia, forget where the seats are. Root for my camera to work, if you want to see pics from these games.
I've still got the Royals station on. There was an ad for Sonic, who has a contest, where you win something if the Royals hit an "over-the-wall" grand slam during a certain inning. What the H? Imagine how pissed you'd be, seeing an inside-the-park grand slam during the special inning, going up to claim you prize, and being told, "Sorry, sir, it has to go over the wall." (Also, if you're a woman, they'd have added insult to injury, with the whole "calling you 'sir'" thing.
Terrible job, Sonic.
Oh my god, I was just about to say how Suzyn Waldman said, while doing the out-of-town scores earlier, that Foulke "obviously blew the save in the top of the ninth." (Obviously false, Suzyn.) And now this Royals announcer says, during their score update, that the Red Sox won with three in the ninth, "two on a David Ortiz home run." This makes me really mad. With all this technology, how can these people get these facts wrong? It's ridiculous. That totally makes it sound like the game was already tied, and Ortiz hit a pressure-free homer. When in reality, we were a strike away from losing when Ortiz hit it out. It's a totally different thing. And on WCBS radio, they recently claimed that the Red Sox won, when they actually lost, on two separate days. I would've really been pissed if I hadn't known the result on one of those days, and heard them say the Sox won, and then walked around all happy, only to find out later that the news got it wrong. In one of those cases, the Sox lost 13-6, and WCBS said they won 6-2. Mind-boggling, really.
Speaking of that, check out this piece of crap article by Ron Borges, who, I kid you not, says, "Ghosts lurk everywhere inside old Fenway Park even this season..." Go die, dude.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Diamondbacks In The Wild
I found this quote on a scrap of paper in my pocket: "What can writing 'What can Brown do for the yanks?' do for your journalistic career?" Good call, me. Why do people always think they're the first person to think of that whenever Kevin Brown pitches? Speakin' of that asshole, it was fun to see him all frustrated last night. And the Unit joined him tonight. The yankees' "easily sweep the worst team in baseball" plan is going great, huh? At least we're losing to the first place team.... Too bad that doesn't actually make me feel better about it.
How come announcers always say "the count's even at two and two"? I say the pitcher has the advantage when it's two and two. If you've got two buildings going up, and one will be forty stories high, and the other thirty, and both are currently at the twenty story mark, well, they may have the same amount of stories, but they aren't even. The thirty story building is two-thirds done. The forty story building is only halfway there. Terrible job, announcers.
Tonight, Chan and I went to Bed, Bath, & Beyond. We needed some stuff or whatever, for our new apartment. On our way back, who steps out of a cab and right past my face, but anti-yankee hero Luis Gonzalez. It took me a second for the face to register. I quickly figured it out and said his name, fairly loud, as he walked away from me, but he didn't react. I asked Chan why he thought LuGo didn't respond to me, and Chan said, "Because he's an idiot!" Chan's clearly still a little bitter about 2001. (Ha ha!) While I don't condone stalking, I do recommend you head over to the yuppie bar at 78th and 2nd, and thank him if you haven't had a chance to yet. Or was that 78nd and 2th? Either way. We did confirm that the D-Backs are in town, not that we needed to, since he's got such a distinctive face.
Speaking of stalking, after Rebecca whitefemailed me, and posted one of my pics of the Sox on the street from last weekend, I figure I will put some more of those shots up here. But I'll wait for the right time, and scatter them. Funny thing is, those shots I had were blown away by the shots of Rebecca with, like, every player on the team anyway.
Finally, the long awaited Part 2 of the "Red Sox Logos In Nature" series. (And you thought I was kidding.) So here it is, the Red Sox "B" tree, New Milford, CT. If you look closely, you'll notice the actual "B" superimposed over the tree. I did this on my video camera using the shot of the tree and a shot of my dirty Sox hat.
How come announcers always say "the count's even at two and two"? I say the pitcher has the advantage when it's two and two. If you've got two buildings going up, and one will be forty stories high, and the other thirty, and both are currently at the twenty story mark, well, they may have the same amount of stories, but they aren't even. The thirty story building is two-thirds done. The forty story building is only halfway there. Terrible job, announcers.
Tonight, Chan and I went to Bed, Bath, & Beyond. We needed some stuff or whatever, for our new apartment. On our way back, who steps out of a cab and right past my face, but anti-yankee hero Luis Gonzalez. It took me a second for the face to register. I quickly figured it out and said his name, fairly loud, as he walked away from me, but he didn't react. I asked Chan why he thought LuGo didn't respond to me, and Chan said, "Because he's an idiot!" Chan's clearly still a little bitter about 2001. (Ha ha!) While I don't condone stalking, I do recommend you head over to the yuppie bar at 78th and 2nd, and thank him if you haven't had a chance to yet. Or was that 78nd and 2th? Either way. We did confirm that the D-Backs are in town, not that we needed to, since he's got such a distinctive face.
Speaking of stalking, after Rebecca whitefemailed me, and posted one of my pics of the Sox on the street from last weekend, I figure I will put some more of those shots up here. But I'll wait for the right time, and scatter them. Funny thing is, those shots I had were blown away by the shots of Rebecca with, like, every player on the team anyway.
Finally, the long awaited Part 2 of the "Red Sox Logos In Nature" series. (And you thought I was kidding.) So here it is, the Red Sox "B" tree, New Milford, CT. If you look closely, you'll notice the actual "B" superimposed over the tree. I did this on my video camera using the shot of the tree and a shot of my dirty Sox hat.
Games Of Gold
Crispin Glover and David Newhan? Anybody?
And to continue with the Back to the Future/Orioles theme, did anybody see the shot of Brain Roberts they showed on ESPN tonight, with that flux capacitor-looking scar on his chest? I think he travelled back in time to get Brady Anderson's bats from 1996. (Seriously, though, good job by that dude for going through heart surgery as a five-year old.)
Good win tonight, going from being no-hit, to Edgar and company waking up with the bats. Edgar hit about .350 in May. Hopefully Wade will keep this great pitching up. I've now seen five Sox games in a row, and in a different way each time: Friday on Hell No Network, Saturday on Fox, Sunday in person, Monday on ESPN2, Tonight on ESPN. Has to be some kind of record. And yes, Sunday's game at yankee Stadium was a little like finding the Mysterious Cities of Gold (only more urine-ey-smelling). Doo da da doo da doo, cities of gold.
The yankees, by most acounts, were to sweep the Royals. I got the impression the games were not even going to actually be played. But Buddy Bell's Royals came through tonight. Former MVP-"lock" Hideki Matsui hit his first homer since April 8th, raising his average to .261. He also continues to look confused in the outfield, despite the yankee people acting like he's a Gold Glover.
I also caught Michael Kay desribing how they got Tanyon Sturtze "off the scrap heap," like it's some award-winning move. Come on, Kay, we know what you're trying to do and it isn't working. Theo Epstein owns the freakin' scrap heap, everybody knows it. Don't pretend the yanks are savvy for getting Tanyon Sturtze. Terrible job as usual.
One more note from the yankee series, hopefully this is the last one: Tito and Torre did dugout interviews, mid-game on Saturday. Remember last year when Backwards Kay, after Tito did one, claimed that that was the difference between the two organizations? That Joe Torre would never take time out from managing to do such a thing? In your big fat face, Kay.
And from Monday's game--I was pissed at Edgar for not running on the grounder that started foul but came back fair. Just run, you know it's fair. Same with Manny on a third strike that got away from the catcher. There was a man on second and two outs. Instead of arguing the call, run to first. Make the catcher make a throw. If he makes a bad throw, it's a run. I feel like these guys are sometimes embarrassed to run on a play when it seems pointless. But for all those millions, you just have to suck it up and run it out.
John Olerud's walk-to-the-plate music tonight included "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and "Paranoid." Nice job, Olerud. I've been waiting a long time to hear Nirvana played at Fenway.
Monday, May 30, 2005
Nathan Wind As Cochese
So I went down to Kim's Video down on St.Marks--where the rudeness of the employees is inversely proportional to the coolness of the merchandise (for at least ten years)--and picked up the DVD of Spike Jonze videos.
It's hard for me to watch the commentaries because I love most of the songs, and I can hear them playing in the background, so I keep paying attention to the music instead of the person talking. You can't play "Sure Shot" by the Beastie Boys and tell me to listen to something else while it's playing!
But I did my best and I learned a few things.
From J. Mascis's commentary on Dinosaur Jr.'s "Feel the Pain" (remember, the golf video?) : "I golfed a little from about five years old to nine, and then I gave it up for baseball, but then I kinda went back to it when I was 27." Hm. J's usual deadpan delivery and the fact that I would've bet my right dog that this man never picked up a baseball bat or a golf club outside of this video shoot make this statement gold. Also, how often do you by a DVD, then see a video on it that's shot on the same street as the one you bought that DVD on? (They drove the golf cart all over Manhattan in the video).
Fatboy Slim did his commentary, and when the video ended, they cut to a shot of him, and you realize he did the whole commentary while taking a bath.
The Beastie Boys were asked after their "Sabotage" commentary if a camera had gotten wet during the shoot, and they played dumb. They continued this technique when asked if they would have tried to dry the camera with a blow dryer before giving it back. And I'd never seen the shot of the falling body that hits the ground in the video, because MTV didn't allow it. So clearly a dummy anyway--the wig falls when it hits the ground.
Rivers Cuomo of Weezer (about "Buddy Holly" winning five awards at the MTV Video Music Awards): "I didn't go. Awards are for losers."
Bjork said that the guy inside the mailbox in the "It's Oh So Quiet" video was the guy who voiced Ernie of Bert & Ernie. But she wasn't sure since they don't have Sesame Street in Iceland. Terrible job, Iceland.
If you're a fan of the only music videos that were ever any good, buy this DVD. I give it seventy-four and a half Chans out of a possible eighty.
Thanks, Bob Watson, for effing up Bronson Arroyo. If he doesn't break out of this, I'm coming to your office.
It's hard for me to watch the commentaries because I love most of the songs, and I can hear them playing in the background, so I keep paying attention to the music instead of the person talking. You can't play "Sure Shot" by the Beastie Boys and tell me to listen to something else while it's playing!
But I did my best and I learned a few things.
From J. Mascis's commentary on Dinosaur Jr.'s "Feel the Pain" (remember, the golf video?) : "I golfed a little from about five years old to nine, and then I gave it up for baseball, but then I kinda went back to it when I was 27." Hm. J's usual deadpan delivery and the fact that I would've bet my right dog that this man never picked up a baseball bat or a golf club outside of this video shoot make this statement gold. Also, how often do you by a DVD, then see a video on it that's shot on the same street as the one you bought that DVD on? (They drove the golf cart all over Manhattan in the video).
Fatboy Slim did his commentary, and when the video ended, they cut to a shot of him, and you realize he did the whole commentary while taking a bath.
The Beastie Boys were asked after their "Sabotage" commentary if a camera had gotten wet during the shoot, and they played dumb. They continued this technique when asked if they would have tried to dry the camera with a blow dryer before giving it back. And I'd never seen the shot of the falling body that hits the ground in the video, because MTV didn't allow it. So clearly a dummy anyway--the wig falls when it hits the ground.
Rivers Cuomo of Weezer (about "Buddy Holly" winning five awards at the MTV Video Music Awards): "I didn't go. Awards are for losers."
Bjork said that the guy inside the mailbox in the "It's Oh So Quiet" video was the guy who voiced Ernie of Bert & Ernie. But she wasn't sure since they don't have Sesame Street in Iceland. Terrible job, Iceland.
If you're a fan of the only music videos that were ever any good, buy this DVD. I give it seventy-four and a half Chans out of a possible eighty.
Thanks, Bob Watson, for effing up Bronson Arroyo. If he doesn't break out of this, I'm coming to your office.
J.P. D.E.P.
I've got the game on ESPN tonight, and I noticed "JP DEP" on David Ortiz' batting helmet. I figured he was just saying hi to someone. Then I read on Empyreal Environs that Red Sox Spanish-language radio announcer J.P. Villaman died yesterday in a car crash.
So now I know Ortiz is saying "Descansa en paz" to J.P.
I don't know why ESPN hasn't mentioned this yet, as surely NESN and WEEI must have by now.
RIP/DEP J.P.
So now I know Ortiz is saying "Descansa en paz" to J.P.
I don't know why ESPN hasn't mentioned this yet, as surely NESN and WEEI must have by now.
RIP/DEP J.P.
More From The House That Some Drunk Built
Terrible job, Tanyon Sturtze, for hitting Trot. It was just so empty. Like, I imagine him going back to the dugout, and Jeter saying, "What the hell are you doing, asshole? We're not doing that right now! Get your head in the game!" And the Red Sox just brushed the whole thing off and said, "Whatever, yanks, we're outta here. See you in July. And don't forget your bats this time!"
And at the Stadium, with a pregnant lady on my left and my mom on my right, I felt very protected from the animals. But then again, everyone around me were Sox fans, so it didn't matter.
After my parents' visit, I'd like to present you with one classic line from each of them:
Dad (about the Indy 500): "They need to crash more. Do they think we're tuning in to watch them go around in circles?"
Mom (about the two yankee fan girls two rows in front of us, who liked to stand up to order food with the bases loaded, two outs, and a 3-2 count): "Look at these trailer trash girls. You'd think they could've found one bottle of shampoo between the two of 'em."
Check out this awesome article. You know it's good writing when you're laughing hysterically despite only understanding 6 % of the references.
And at the Stadium, with a pregnant lady on my left and my mom on my right, I felt very protected from the animals. But then again, everyone around me were Sox fans, so it didn't matter.
After my parents' visit, I'd like to present you with one classic line from each of them:
Dad (about the Indy 500): "They need to crash more. Do they think we're tuning in to watch them go around in circles?"
Mom (about the two yankee fan girls two rows in front of us, who liked to stand up to order food with the bases loaded, two outs, and a 3-2 count): "Look at these trailer trash girls. You'd think they could've found one bottle of shampoo between the two of 'em."
Check out this awesome article. You know it's good writing when you're laughing hysterically despite only understanding 6 % of the references.
52 Pick-Up
Tonight around 5:30, as my visiting parents and I were headed to the Riviera to watch the game, we spotted a family of Sox fans on the street. I gave then the double-point, and they acknowledged us. The father asked us, "Are you going to the game?" "No," we said, "we're going to watch it at a bar." He responded with, "Do you want to go to the game?"
He had three extras, and was selling them at face value.
An hour and a half later, we were in the upper deck, section 12, at Le Stade du Choque.
And aren't we glad we went...
Ortiz hit what had to be a total of 900 feet worth of home runs. Black seats! Probably my first black seats homer in person. Wells, despite giving up two homers in the first, was ON. Almost went the whole game. As opposed to Mussina, whose pitch count hit 80 by the third, and was quickly replaced by Wang. And Edgah! Yeah, dude, this is what we're paying you for. It was fun watching his and Ortiz' averages go up at the game. It's like a race to .300. And I got to see Shoppach's first major league at bat.
I was surprised to see that Wells was wearing 16 tonight. And Edgar was back to his old 3. So I guess Pat and a lot of other people got screwed, having bought the "Renteria 16" shirt. I had learned from BS Memorial why Edgar took 16, and we know why Wells took 3, so I checked over there, and of course BSM mentioned the number swap, but what's the deal? Why did they switch? Did ESPN say? (I also thought BSM would've mentioned Billy Crystal taking a FUCKING DO-OVER on the ceremonial first pitch. But I guess it was implied how sick that made him.)
So we had 52 hits in the series. The series that was supposed to be, as all but guaranteed by most, a sweep by the yanks. Terrible job. 52 hits! In three games. yankee fans, that's 17.3333333333333333333 hits per game.
But let me tell you my favorite thing about this series. There was a caller to the FAN on Friday morning, talking about when A-Rod will finally get that big hit against the Red Sox, and become a true yankee. His prediction was: A-Rod hits his 400th home run on Sunday night to win the game and complete the sweep.
So what makes me so happy is not just the fact that that guy probably cried himself to sleep tonight before Ronan Tynan left his pen to come out and sing his rock opera version of God Bless America, but that A-Rod, after his big lead up, with all those homers against shitty teams, still did not get his big hit. He is still not a true yankee. His body keeps rejecting the mystique! We're losing him! Clear!
And that ass made some key errors as a bonus. (But one wasn't called an error? What the shit?) A-Rod, thank you for giving me so much joy. You're like the yankee I never had. I mean, there were always yankees I'd make fun of: Bob Shirley, Paul Zuvella, Dale Berra, Dan Pasqua. But those guys weren't considered the best player in the game like you, A-Rod. You just know how to be "the best," while somehow NEVER doing anything to help your team when it matters, escpecially against my team. You're like a non-super hero. Oh, and has anyone called him "A-Freud" because of the therapy thing? He was definitely "E-Rod" tonight. (Thanks for that one, Frank.)
Here's another bonus. The following ex-yankee pitchers pitched--and won--today alone:
Chris Hammond
Jake Westbrook
Brandon Claussen
Jeff Weaver
Andy Pettitte...
and David Wells
Now that I live in New York, I actually have a home subway to root for in yankee Stadium's "Great Subway Race," one of the many bullshit between inning activities they have. My 4 train lost to the B. Also, do they have to play sound effects and music between every single pitch?
Great weekend. Lots of Sox fans everywhere. Got to go to a game unexpectedly, and it was a nice win. We head home for a slumping Baltimore, with a chance to take over first place. I got to chat with the guy who sold us with the tix, and it turns out he's from Vermont, and despite living in Jersey, has season tickets to Fenway. That's hard core. Thank you, Frank, for the tix!
From today's Indy 500: "Lady & gentlemen, start your engines!" Cool.
He had three extras, and was selling them at face value.
An hour and a half later, we were in the upper deck, section 12, at Le Stade du Choque.
And aren't we glad we went...
Ortiz hit what had to be a total of 900 feet worth of home runs. Black seats! Probably my first black seats homer in person. Wells, despite giving up two homers in the first, was ON. Almost went the whole game. As opposed to Mussina, whose pitch count hit 80 by the third, and was quickly replaced by Wang. And Edgah! Yeah, dude, this is what we're paying you for. It was fun watching his and Ortiz' averages go up at the game. It's like a race to .300. And I got to see Shoppach's first major league at bat.
I was surprised to see that Wells was wearing 16 tonight. And Edgar was back to his old 3. So I guess Pat and a lot of other people got screwed, having bought the "Renteria 16" shirt. I had learned from BS Memorial why Edgar took 16, and we know why Wells took 3, so I checked over there, and of course BSM mentioned the number swap, but what's the deal? Why did they switch? Did ESPN say? (I also thought BSM would've mentioned Billy Crystal taking a FUCKING DO-OVER on the ceremonial first pitch. But I guess it was implied how sick that made him.)
So we had 52 hits in the series. The series that was supposed to be, as all but guaranteed by most, a sweep by the yanks. Terrible job. 52 hits! In three games. yankee fans, that's 17.3333333333333333333 hits per game.
But let me tell you my favorite thing about this series. There was a caller to the FAN on Friday morning, talking about when A-Rod will finally get that big hit against the Red Sox, and become a true yankee. His prediction was: A-Rod hits his 400th home run on Sunday night to win the game and complete the sweep.
So what makes me so happy is not just the fact that that guy probably cried himself to sleep tonight before Ronan Tynan left his pen to come out and sing his rock opera version of God Bless America, but that A-Rod, after his big lead up, with all those homers against shitty teams, still did not get his big hit. He is still not a true yankee. His body keeps rejecting the mystique! We're losing him! Clear!
And that ass made some key errors as a bonus. (But one wasn't called an error? What the shit?) A-Rod, thank you for giving me so much joy. You're like the yankee I never had. I mean, there were always yankees I'd make fun of: Bob Shirley, Paul Zuvella, Dale Berra, Dan Pasqua. But those guys weren't considered the best player in the game like you, A-Rod. You just know how to be "the best," while somehow NEVER doing anything to help your team when it matters, escpecially against my team. You're like a non-super hero. Oh, and has anyone called him "A-Freud" because of the therapy thing? He was definitely "E-Rod" tonight. (Thanks for that one, Frank.)
Here's another bonus. The following ex-yankee pitchers pitched--and won--today alone:
Chris Hammond
Jake Westbrook
Brandon Claussen
Jeff Weaver
Andy Pettitte...
and David Wells
Now that I live in New York, I actually have a home subway to root for in yankee Stadium's "Great Subway Race," one of the many bullshit between inning activities they have. My 4 train lost to the B. Also, do they have to play sound effects and music between every single pitch?
Great weekend. Lots of Sox fans everywhere. Got to go to a game unexpectedly, and it was a nice win. We head home for a slumping Baltimore, with a chance to take over first place. I got to chat with the guy who sold us with the tix, and it turns out he's from Vermont, and despite living in Jersey, has season tickets to Fenway. That's hard core. Thank you, Frank, for the tix!
From today's Indy 500: "Lady & gentlemen, start your engines!" Cool.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
100% Fun
Yesterday, Rebecca came down from CT to hang out with me in the city. We figured we wouldn't get into the Riv since it was close to game time when she arrived, so we watched the game at my apartment. And how sweet it was.
TOAST 17, Boast 1.
I went into this series curious as to why both Red Sox and yankee fans were telling me the yanks would sweep. What year is this again? This isn't pre-04, people. Sox fans, let the yankee fans be the pessimistic ones now. yankee fans, terrible job with your insistance that 2004 didn't happen. It did, it wasn't a bad dream. And I'm not gonna bring that up in 20 years (except for just general fun), but this year's teams are chock full of the same guys from the 2004 teams, so it still is relevant.
27 hits. Nice. We broke their scoreboard, literally.
Damon was 4 for 7. Quantrill gave up no less than three home runs, and not a solo shot among them. Clement honestly mowed people down. Edgar's hitting, strangely enough. Trot had a homer, 5 RBI, and crazy spaceship eye-black. Manny was 4 for 4. Pavano gave up 5 runs and eleven hits in 3 2/3 IP.
Our biggest margin of victory over the yanks ever. Not even McCarver could put a damper on this day.
Then, the second half of our adventure began. We made our way down to the Sox' hotel, which I'd scouted out the previous day. We literally ended up walking alongside their bus, which I only knew because it was the same bus I'd seen on Friday. The windows were tinted, but Rebecca was sure she made out Clement's beard. Sure enough, the bus pulled right up to the hotel. (We were already there at that point because the bus was just sitting in traffic.) That was a cool moment, because we got to watch the guys come off the bus, without any of the scumbag autograph-sellers around, as they were waiting by a different entrance for the limos to pull up, and for players who were already in the hotel to come back out. Coming off the bus were: Dave Wallace--I finally gave him the "Dave Wallace, Waterbury, Connecticut!" line, to which he reacted with a smile. I then said, "I'm from Danbury." And he gave less of a smile and walked into the hotel. Trot Nixon and Captain Queso followed. I clapped for them and siad their names or whatnot, and they acknowledged, while Rebecca snapped away with her digital camera. Then Clement got off, more clapping and snapping from us. That was about it for that bus. Oh, except for Haselman.
Then we walked around the corner to scumbag central, i.e. the main entrance of the hotel.
Rebecca and I decided that we weren't crazy, and felt (for the most part) okay about doing this. We're not doing anything to make money, we don't regularly seek out celebrities, we just love the Red Sox. I just like to thank them and say hi. And when I'm getting pics I usually hang back and use the zoom, as opposed to shoving it in their face. It's a weird culture, these dudes who seek autographs. Thet are relentless, but they do respect the players, if only because if they don't, they're never gonna get any autographs. There were two ladies who were just nuts, putting their hands on the players and yelling, doing something that's pretty hard to do: giving scumbags a bad name.
We did meet one guy, an Indian fellow named after the European city he was born in, who was very nice. He knew all the players, and knew exactly how to get their autographs, even when it seemed like they just wouldn't sign. And he wasn't doing it for money. He has his little book, no cards or pictures, and just gets autographs.
So our new friend came through for us, basically putting Rebecca in position to get her picture taken with lots of Red Sox.
Bronson was one of the first to come out, and was pretty nice. Our boy got a nice shot of him and Reb with me in the background. Unfortunately, Bronson's cut off at the eyes. From then on, the dude had the hang of Reb's camera, though. Clement made the mistake of leaving the hotel with no plan except to just hail a cab (!?) So by the time everyone on the sidewalk had talked to him, gotten his pic and autograph, even the more timid me went up to him and got his autograph--on my paycheck stub I had in my pocket. The pic of Matty and Rebecca wa actually taken by me, but the other guy took all the other shots of Reb and a Red Sox. See her blog, link above, for these pics.
Timmy Wake went staright to his waiting car, saying, "I'm with my family." And his wishes were respected.
Francona and family came out, I said hi to him, and he quickly got out of there. Timlin was hardly intimidated by the hounds. (About thirty or so people were out there waiting for players at the height of it.) He kept coming in and out of the door, knowing exactly what he was doing, having dealt with this stuff for so many years.
Schilling made a quick appearance, rushing inside from out of nowhere, before Reb had time to turn on her camera.
Mantei, it was agreed by the ladies, was the "hottest" Red Sox. He was nice, too. Payton was nice as well, despite being touched illegally by a crazy woman, but also had a pretty weak plan of getting away from everybody.
It's true what they say about Edgar's shyness. We saw him in the lobby, waiting. Finally, three security guards came out, and pushed everyone on the sidewalk far away from the doors. Finally, Edgar got whisked out, into a waiting car. He was literally the one guy that our Indian friend could not get to sign an autograph.
Olreud is crazy tall. And Manny and Ortiz must have been staying in Washington Heights.
Johnny and Michelle came out last, and quickly went to their limo.
I also saw NESN's Eric Freed, and said "Er-IC!" And he gave a big smile and said hi. I was psyched to be the one guy to spot him. And he was psyched to be noticed.
Then we headed back uptown, got Indian food, and went home and showed Chan all the pictures. Then we took Rebecca to the train at like 1 in the morning. Then I wrote some stuff, then I went to bed, then I woke up, did my tradition of waking up and seeing the Indy 500 already in progress, and not caring about it. Except that this year there'a woman in the race, so I'm rooting for her. Terrible job by the other dudes in the race for complaining that she's too light and has an unfair advantage!
Then I wrote this post. Today my folks will see my new place for the first time, and we'll all attempt to get into the Riv.
Again, for pics, stuff I forgot, and more of our stalk-venture, go to Rebecca's blog.
TOAST 17, Boast 1.
I went into this series curious as to why both Red Sox and yankee fans were telling me the yanks would sweep. What year is this again? This isn't pre-04, people. Sox fans, let the yankee fans be the pessimistic ones now. yankee fans, terrible job with your insistance that 2004 didn't happen. It did, it wasn't a bad dream. And I'm not gonna bring that up in 20 years (except for just general fun), but this year's teams are chock full of the same guys from the 2004 teams, so it still is relevant.
27 hits. Nice. We broke their scoreboard, literally.
Damon was 4 for 7. Quantrill gave up no less than three home runs, and not a solo shot among them. Clement honestly mowed people down. Edgar's hitting, strangely enough. Trot had a homer, 5 RBI, and crazy spaceship eye-black. Manny was 4 for 4. Pavano gave up 5 runs and eleven hits in 3 2/3 IP.
Our biggest margin of victory over the yanks ever. Not even McCarver could put a damper on this day.
Then, the second half of our adventure began. We made our way down to the Sox' hotel, which I'd scouted out the previous day. We literally ended up walking alongside their bus, which I only knew because it was the same bus I'd seen on Friday. The windows were tinted, but Rebecca was sure she made out Clement's beard. Sure enough, the bus pulled right up to the hotel. (We were already there at that point because the bus was just sitting in traffic.) That was a cool moment, because we got to watch the guys come off the bus, without any of the scumbag autograph-sellers around, as they were waiting by a different entrance for the limos to pull up, and for players who were already in the hotel to come back out. Coming off the bus were: Dave Wallace--I finally gave him the "Dave Wallace, Waterbury, Connecticut!" line, to which he reacted with a smile. I then said, "I'm from Danbury." And he gave less of a smile and walked into the hotel. Trot Nixon and Captain Queso followed. I clapped for them and siad their names or whatnot, and they acknowledged, while Rebecca snapped away with her digital camera. Then Clement got off, more clapping and snapping from us. That was about it for that bus. Oh, except for Haselman.
Then we walked around the corner to scumbag central, i.e. the main entrance of the hotel.
Rebecca and I decided that we weren't crazy, and felt (for the most part) okay about doing this. We're not doing anything to make money, we don't regularly seek out celebrities, we just love the Red Sox. I just like to thank them and say hi. And when I'm getting pics I usually hang back and use the zoom, as opposed to shoving it in their face. It's a weird culture, these dudes who seek autographs. Thet are relentless, but they do respect the players, if only because if they don't, they're never gonna get any autographs. There were two ladies who were just nuts, putting their hands on the players and yelling, doing something that's pretty hard to do: giving scumbags a bad name.
We did meet one guy, an Indian fellow named after the European city he was born in, who was very nice. He knew all the players, and knew exactly how to get their autographs, even when it seemed like they just wouldn't sign. And he wasn't doing it for money. He has his little book, no cards or pictures, and just gets autographs.
So our new friend came through for us, basically putting Rebecca in position to get her picture taken with lots of Red Sox.
Bronson was one of the first to come out, and was pretty nice. Our boy got a nice shot of him and Reb with me in the background. Unfortunately, Bronson's cut off at the eyes. From then on, the dude had the hang of Reb's camera, though. Clement made the mistake of leaving the hotel with no plan except to just hail a cab (!?) So by the time everyone on the sidewalk had talked to him, gotten his pic and autograph, even the more timid me went up to him and got his autograph--on my paycheck stub I had in my pocket. The pic of Matty and Rebecca wa actually taken by me, but the other guy took all the other shots of Reb and a Red Sox. See her blog, link above, for these pics.
Timmy Wake went staright to his waiting car, saying, "I'm with my family." And his wishes were respected.
Francona and family came out, I said hi to him, and he quickly got out of there. Timlin was hardly intimidated by the hounds. (About thirty or so people were out there waiting for players at the height of it.) He kept coming in and out of the door, knowing exactly what he was doing, having dealt with this stuff for so many years.
Schilling made a quick appearance, rushing inside from out of nowhere, before Reb had time to turn on her camera.
Mantei, it was agreed by the ladies, was the "hottest" Red Sox. He was nice, too. Payton was nice as well, despite being touched illegally by a crazy woman, but also had a pretty weak plan of getting away from everybody.
It's true what they say about Edgar's shyness. We saw him in the lobby, waiting. Finally, three security guards came out, and pushed everyone on the sidewalk far away from the doors. Finally, Edgar got whisked out, into a waiting car. He was literally the one guy that our Indian friend could not get to sign an autograph.
Olreud is crazy tall. And Manny and Ortiz must have been staying in Washington Heights.
Johnny and Michelle came out last, and quickly went to their limo.
I also saw NESN's Eric Freed, and said "Er-IC!" And he gave a big smile and said hi. I was psyched to be the one guy to spot him. And he was psyched to be noticed.
Then we headed back uptown, got Indian food, and went home and showed Chan all the pictures. Then we took Rebecca to the train at like 1 in the morning. Then I wrote some stuff, then I went to bed, then I woke up, did my tradition of waking up and seeing the Indy 500 already in progress, and not caring about it. Except that this year there'a woman in the race, so I'm rooting for her. Terrible job by the other dudes in the race for complaining that she's too light and has an unfair advantage!
Then I wrote this post. Today my folks will see my new place for the first time, and we'll all attempt to get into the Riv.
Again, for pics, stuff I forgot, and more of our stalk-venture, go to Rebecca's blog.
Chan Stories
The scene: Chan and I out front, loading the last of his stuff into the apartment (at 1:30 AM).
Chan hands me a long metal object with grating on the sides and a flat base.
Me: "Ooh, the Ionic Breeze?"
Chan: "No, just a regular breeze."
This, like many things that really aren't that funny, sends me into a fit of laughter. I start to carry it upstairs, and Chan shouts from about twenty feet away: "The ironic breeze!"
Later, Chan tried to tell me that the whole thing wasn't funny, and the ironic line made no sense. Terrible job, Chan. It was great.
2 AM, bedtime. Tomorrow I will talk about the 17-1 win over the yanks (pessimists, I hope you're done with that nonsense now), and the inevitable part two of my stalking adventures--this time with a fellow blogger/co-stalker.
Actually, I can't wait any longer on this: Terrible job, McCarver, on trying to use the "short porch" excuse on Edgar's slam. Way off the line and five rows deep. That reminds me-- last night, on the Sheffield left field upper deck homer, Kay and cronies acted like only two people had ever done this, conveniently forgetting that Manny Ramirez once hit a ball up there that went several rows deep, and was off the line, as opposed to Sheffield's front row, right down the line shot.
Chan hands me a long metal object with grating on the sides and a flat base.
Me: "Ooh, the Ionic Breeze?"
Chan: "No, just a regular breeze."
This, like many things that really aren't that funny, sends me into a fit of laughter. I start to carry it upstairs, and Chan shouts from about twenty feet away: "The ironic breeze!"
Later, Chan tried to tell me that the whole thing wasn't funny, and the ironic line made no sense. Terrible job, Chan. It was great.
2 AM, bedtime. Tomorrow I will talk about the 17-1 win over the yanks (pessimists, I hope you're done with that nonsense now), and the inevitable part two of my stalking adventures--this time with a fellow blogger/co-stalker.
Actually, I can't wait any longer on this: Terrible job, McCarver, on trying to use the "short porch" excuse on Edgar's slam. Way off the line and five rows deep. That reminds me-- last night, on the Sheffield left field upper deck homer, Kay and cronies acted like only two people had ever done this, conveniently forgetting that Manny Ramirez once hit a ball up there that went several rows deep, and was off the line, as opposed to Sheffield's front row, right down the line shot.
