After watching the Twins play like a bunch of Little Leaguers for three days against the yanks, I was psyched that they were headed into Fenway. Yet for some reason, they came out flashin' the leather. But it was only a matter of time before they reverted back to their Twinian ways. That Johnny Damon "home run" was classic.

And on the Ortiz ball, did anyone else notice that there needs to be another vertical yellow line out on that screen-fence that starts in play and then goes behind the other fence?

So is Olerud a "real Red Sox" now? (barf in mouth) (at the phrase, not Olerud)

What's with the UPC code-style grass mowing at Fenway now? I never would have thought to do to a "thick rule/thin rule" pattern, but I guess that's why someone else gets paid for that.

Drinkwater was flanked by old ladies tonight. And Springer, aka the Real Drinkwater, got up and left at the start of the ninth, and some kid with a sideways hat took his place.

I guess the people who were influenced to boo by various media sources were out there for Manny tonight. A liiiitle bit. But again, just watch the team on the field and in the dugout, and there's nothing to worry about. Everything's overblown as usual.

I'm going up to Fenway tomorrow. I'll be in really sweet field box seats by third base, thanks to my RSN membership deal. I'll bring a digital camera, but no video, since I have to be looking out for foul balls.

Note from yesterday's yankee game: There was a play where Bernie trapped a ball in the outfield, but the ump made the out call. I could tell on the original shot that it wasn't a catch. On the replay, Kaat and O'Neill agreed that it was a definite trap. Ball bounces off grass, into glove. Michael Kay, however, insisted that the ball bounced "on the webbing." The other guys called him crazy, and when they brought it up later, Kay still didn't give in. At that point, I think he was just trying to be a dick about it. Anyway, later, I had the post-game on, and just to rub it in my face, they called that play the Fidelity Investment Bankers And Such Dot Org Defensive Play of the Game. Come on.

And in today's yankee news, they lost with the Spruce Moose (model??). We're up 2 1/2 again. Good luck, yanks, with the rest of that staff: Randy, [mystery pitcher], [who?], and [whatchoo talkin' bout, Mrs. Adelaide?]

Did you know only three other teams besides the Red Sox have a winning record both on the road and at home? Yes? Oh. Well, give yourself an anti-terrible job medal.

Last year, I went to the stadium formerly known as SkyDome. I didn't know how to post pictures at that point. Now I do. So here are some stills from the video I shot up there on May 14th, 2004:

The tall thing.


The thing on top of the tall thing.


The tall thing looked like it would fall on me. It almost did, but didn't.


The tall thing from a pier on the Great Lake that's near Toronto.


Here are some flowers. Surely they're in a garden, not inside an old tv set, right?


Oh crap, I gave that away.


Here's the entire TV garden.


An orchestra between SkyDome and the tall thing.


The Spaceman, Bill Lee, was not at the game. But this man kind of looked like him.


Johnny takes BP.


Johnny gives me the secret sign from 300 feet away.


Manny and Dave Wallace.


The knuckle ball grip.


"Manny has requested the door in the wall be left open in case he needs to pee," said Average McRedsoxfan.


"You come to me, on the day of my Dauber's wedding..."


Pedro with headphones on.


Pedro looks over at crowd.


Pedro signing.



Pedro brings his hat, glove, water, and headphones back to the dugout.


Some old friends in the dugout. Burks, Pokey, Daubach.


Not the dome the Bad News Bears went to.


Lowe delivers.


Manny at the plate.


Texas, Southeast Asia, and the Caribbean come together.


See you guys later.

Timlin was getting razzed by the crowd, and razzing back, of course.




And seemingly looking at and waving to me.


Tek hits what could be a 500-foot homer.


This land has been claimed by Lisa Ruddy and friends.

Number of times I've been inside a Cold Stone Creamery: 1

Number of times I've seen Tino Martinez inside a Cold Stone Creamery: 1

Number of times I said "terrible job" referring to the singing employees at Cold Stone Creamery: 7

Number of times they didn't give me what I ordered at a Cold Stone Creamery while Tino Martinez was in the store: 1

Number of times me and Tino Martinez lived in the same neighborhood while he made millions of dollars and I didn't even have a job: 1

Terrible job, Tino. Terrible job, Cold Stone. Terrible job, Chan.

I still think it's weird how the other day I was ready to write this "in defense of Manny" post, thinking that I had plenty of time to work on it, and that I could post it whenever. And then all this Manny stuff happened, and suddenly it's "Better reel off your Manny rant--like everyone else already has--before we all move on to the next dramatic theme."

So, while numerous blogs have already done their ranting (Andrew's is the best, i.e. the one I agree with most, and I'm sure BSM would have pages on this topic, which I'd also agree with. You know, if he were--tear runs down face, just like Native American guy upon litter sighting--still around.), I'll just kind of sum up how I feel about Manny with a little analogy:

Manny is yo' momma.

That's right, David Ortiz is your Papi, and Manny is your Mami.

Your mom--she cooked all your meals, she made your bed, she did your laundry. Not once but hundreds of times. Like, every day. For years. She even wrote your English papers in Mrs. Rhodes' English class. And even though Mrs. Rhodes once said to the whole class, "I detect the fine hand of mom or dad in these papers," you thought, You can't prove anything, Rhodes. And you knew your mom would defend you if she was asked about it.

Oh, and also, your mom carried you in her womb for way longer than any kidney stone has been inside you. She gave you life.

So when your mom cuts your sandwich into rectangles instead of triangles once in a blue moon, or buys crunchy instead of creamy, or Fleer instead of Topps, what are you gonna do, kick her out of the family? Trade her for Carlos Beltran's mom?

If you criticize, do it as a joke. Because she is family, and because you love her. And if you don't love her, well, you don't deserve her. And maybe you're the one that needs to go, not her.

I will be at Fenway on Saturday night, high and dry, cheering Manny along with 30,000 other people who don't sit around in front of computer screens pecking out diatribes about the flaws of heaven. That's right, Manny has helped open the door to baseball heaven for all Red Sox fans. And you're complaining that you have to jiggle the handle? Jesus. (...will fix it, don't worry. After all, he is a fucking carpenter.)

After Judas Priest were admonished of any wrongdoing in their trial in the eighties, Rob Halford said he just wanted to put it all behind him and "get back to rock 'n' roll, and heavy metal." I say we all do the same. Let's all get back to the heavy metal that is baseball. Media, I'm looking in your direction...

Good job getting 2 out of 3 considering the circumstances. Still rough watching Schilling on that last batter, what with his "I refuse to waste a pitch on 0-2" attitude. He actually was kind of throwing waste pitches, which Crawford was fouling off. But I'm still sitting here saying, "Now throw one WAY outside." He never did throw a ball to that batter, and the ground out to first could have been a single, and I would have been really mad. We have to teach the old dog this very old trick.

As I was about to say, "Hopefully Santana can help us out tonight," I watched as Jacque Jones dove into first after hitting a slow grounder, which, as we know, slows a person down. And it was with the bases loaded and two outs in the first. And Jeter made the play, so if the sound was on, I'm sure I would have heard what a great play it was, even though if a-hole runs through first, it's a base hit and a one-nothing lead for Minny. And I'm really glad I didn't have the sound on earlier, when Jeter threw to THIRD for a force. Only a GOD would have the instincts, guts, talent, class, and the ubiquitous intangibles to make such a play.

There's nothing I hate more in life* than watching crappy teams do the yankees favors. Twins, I'm looking in your direction...

So a little more on Manny. I think that regardless of how I feel about him not playing today, this just goes to prove my theory that you should never give these guys a day off. There are days off built in to the schedule. A catcher who's getting old or a guy who can barely move due to injury would be exceptions. But for the most part, I say never give a guy a day off just for the hell of it. And look how you get screwed when you tell a guy he's going to get a day off.

And if your answer to that is "They have their reasons to give people days off," well, I'm sure Manny had his reasons today, too. Maybe he needs to prepare, a certain way, and once he was told it was his day off, maybe there was just no way he was going to be able to play. It's like when I was little, and my mom would say, "You have a dentist's appointment next week." And I'd say "No fair, I need more warning than that!" But me and Manny are little kids like that, I guess. Not to say that going to the dentist is the equivolent of playing for the Red Sox. Because if it were me, I'd be out there. But I say that now. Who knows what I'd feel if that were my actual job. And I've never had a job where millions of people scrutinized my every move. So I don't know.

Just watched some Twins dude lolly-effing-gag it to first on a ball that took a bad hop off the wall. So he's on second instead of third. What did I just say, Twins? Jesus.

But back to Manny. I still say all this can be blamed on the fact that they gave Manny a day off in the first place. He has one tomorrow. I don't understand.

Again, bases loaded, two outs for the Twins. How about at least a run, Twins. Nope. Slow grounder that the minor league fuckface on the Twins couldn't beat out despite A-Rod having to dance around the runner just to get to. I really should turn this game off before I have a stroke...or heart attack. Sorry, an anti-smoking commercial came on just as I was finishing that sentence, and I just kind of wrote what I heard. God, I hate the yankees.

*except for a bunch of other stuff

This is weird.

My next two posts were going to be about defending Nomar and his little day off last year, since Rebeca asked about that in the comments, and defending Manny in general. And then today, there's this situation where Manny takes a day off on a day when he's really needed. (Although, hey, if your boss gave you a day off, and then called you up and said she's changed her mind, you'd probably tell her where she can stick it, emergency or not.)

Anyway, I don't know what to do now. But I'm pretty sure I can still life a long and fruitful life despite this dilemma.

3-1 us in the sixth. I'm not going to say "looking good" because the last time I did that (yesterday), all hell broke loose within seconds.

Note: I have used the "female-as-default-gender" in this post. This may have caused confusion, unless you are reading this in a female-dominated society. Also, my bosses have almost always been female.

Also, yanks signed Hideo Nomo.

And here's something I never knew. The name of Johnny Damon's high school is "Dr. Phillips High School." Which is only funny to people who know a friend of mine who's been known to go by the alias of "Dr. Phillips." Next thing you know, the Red Sox will sign Clark Westfield.

Jesus H. Cristo and Jean Claude!

After the traumatic Clement experience, I had to watch as Mirabelli didn't come through in two key spots, basically stuck in the lineup. And then when Edgar missed that ground ball, I was ready to destroy everything in the room, including Chan. My post was going to be "Edgar, you may still be on the Red Sox, but you're not on my team." And that would've been it.

Oh, except I was also going to say how ridiculous people were on RSN.Net for calling this the most important game of the year, since you can't expect us to win when we have to bring in a pitcher who isn't ready because of a major injury out of the blue.

But those people may be right after all, considering the way we ended up winning.

Tek with the homer to cut it to one, we know he'll always be giving everything he has. But then when we tie it, Olerud has to prove to everyone that he's truly the slowest man alive. The guy was running backwards by the time he, uh, didn't reach the plate. But I didn't know where the hell he was, because the Devil Rays' TV cameras never showed Olerud until he was sliding into home!

So by the time Schil, who looks like he's about ready to go ON the DL with that motion, gives up what looks like a game-winning homer, I'm back at the windowsill, ready to end it all, but not before pulling Chan out with me, punishing him for his pure indifference to this game, which could put his yanks into first place.

Aaaaaaaa!

But anyway, Johnny catches the ball amazingly (I was pretty sure, since you really can't see the ball on the tiny computer screen.) And I'm back on Cloud 80.

And after calling my parents to make sure they were still tuned in (they didn't answer, I have a bad feeling they gave up on this one), I called Rebecca, and while I'm on the phone, I see over at the computer the ball going into the stands. And I'm all "Is this a home run?" And she's all "Yeah!" And I'm all "Holy Shitcakes Mcgee!" Actually, I wish I'd said that.

Then Edgar gets a hit, making me believe that maybe he is trying. But still, it appears we were trying to fight for a win tonight while Edgar was fighting for the other side, to the point where, earlier, I was in that psychopathic mode that used to frighten my ex when we lived together.

But Edgar, when we were one out away, did decide to not fully try on a foul pop. So, whatever, due to the win, all is forgiven. But before that, this was going to be the last straw. So he gets a bonus straw. It's good to be positive.

So much happened in this crazy, ridiculous, game-of-the-year. Unbe-goddamn-lievable. I hope you watched it. I really hope you watched it. Holy crap, dude.

I need some Gatorade.

And just after I finished that last post about injuries, Matty gets hit in the head. Scary. No wave to the crowd. I hope that's because they told him not to move. At least he was talking.

How did my whole world crumble in the last five minutes? 5-5 now, but at least Randy's no-hitter just got broken up. But none of this crap matters compared to Matty being okay. This is bringing back memories of the Damon collision, where I was just ready to puke. Everyone, just, I don't know. Just be okay.

I just don't understand batting Doug Mirabelli third under any circumstances. And I absolutley love Doug. When a guy not known for his hitting has a good average against a pitcher, the manager should keep in mind that when this player got these hits, he was batting much lower in the order. And the pitcher may have been letting up when he saw this guy come to the plate, since he finally was getting a break from the fat part of the order. Whatever the reason is that Doug hits well against tonight's pitcher, I don't think it warrants putting him in the lineup, let alone replacing David Ortiz and batting anywhere above seventh in the order. A pitcher sees Ortiz up there, and even if he's gotten him out a hundred times out of a hundred, he's still gonna be more scared than he'd be with Doug up there. Right now, Doug is up. I hope he gets this run in from third, don't get me wrong. Holding...2-1 count, 1 out, fly ball means a run, Doug, BASE HIT. RBI. Great call, Tito. Exactly what I would have done.

I guess my joke about batting Millar leadoff at Coors Field if he did really good in the mountain time zone or something is no longer necessary. But still, Tito, please, witha cherry on top, clean the fuckin' car. And by that I mean no catchers in the three hole unless it's an emergency.

Great play by Janeane Graffanino and Clement earlier. And I'd just like to say that we'd be ten games in first if the umps would simply open their eyes occasionally.

Oh crap, Trot just doubled over in pain. Damn.

And funny I just mentioned the bad umpiring. I just watch three pitches in a row that were either inside or outside, AND almost hit the ground, called strikes. Fortunately, the guy threw one to the backstop after that, making it 5-0 Sox. Looking good so far. Everybody send good thoughts toward Trot, god knows, uh, god is too busy to help him. You know, with all those other athlete's prayers god is tending to. Hey, if all these religious players are so big on god blessing America and whatnot, how is it that they think it's okay to waste god's time asking for home runs? Terrible job, guys.

After I found out that the game wasn't on ESPN, and after trying to watch on the computer, but being frustrated by the fact that A. the screen was just blank most of the time, and B. the Red Sox just weren't scoring against the Satan Rays, I did what anyone would have done. I went to the Upright Citizen's Brigade Theater to see the Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players.

When I got home, I found out that the Sox had lost in extra frames, with the Schilling experiment costing us actual games, and to Tampa Bay at that. Terrible job. Let's get our heads in the game. Now. Pull away from the yanks and O's instead of giving them false hope.

That's it for baseball in this post.

This group, the aforementioned Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players, is pretty damn weird. They find old slides and write songs about them. And then they play those songs while the slides appear on a screen behind them. The dad is the singer/keyboardist/guitarist, and is kind of like the emcee of this familial freak show. He talks a mile a minute, despite his slight stutter, describing each song and it's visual companion piece. He's the type of guy that makes you laugh every time he speaks. And when he says something that no one laughs at, you end up laughing at the fact that no one laughed. The mom makes their costumes and has the probably under-appreciated job of running the projector along to the songs. The daughter looks just like my ten-year old neice. Which makes sense, since she's also ten. I played drums when I was that age. Only instead of playing shows all around the world, I played "Solo Flight II" to a bunch of senior citizens. One time. On a drum pad. I did have one snare drum, but my dad sold it to a kid named Yader. Oh well, Yader probably needed it more than I did anyway. Besides, today you know Yader as the drummer of The Hives. Well, not really, but I like to think he went on to great things in the field of drumming. Maybe an extra in "Drumline" or something. Where was I? Oh right, TFSSP. They played a bunch of songs based on a bunch of slides, mainly from the seventies, and it was really funny, like I said. One set of slides was shots of executives, each next to a quote. It was from an advertising company used by McDonalds, in June 1977, called OPNAD. So the dad says, "Not only are we showing you these slides that weren't meant for public viewing, but we wrote a six-song rock opera to them." And another set was someone's trip to Japan, which ended with a picture of a man being taken to a public execution, or so it seemed. But they made even that seem funny somehow.

They only had to go to the back-up projector once. It was a really good show. Bring the whole family. Especially when your team is shitting the bed against the Devil Rays.


The T-burgs in a state of rest. Photo most likely by a French person.

Splitting four in Chicago--we'll take it. Why is everyone so down on Wake all of a sudden? One bad inning the other night, which has been his norm for quite a while now, and it seems like people are calling for his head. At playoff time, I want him to lead us into proverbial battle.

Great jorb by Miller on Satuday night. Good to see a zero for the other team. And despite another save by Schill, he says he's ready to start and I think that's what's going to happen. I still feel like the idea of him being "the closer" was complete invented by fans and the meida. Didn't Stankonia only say "He'll work out of the 'pen"? Meaning that he would do that until he was ready to start again? And since our closer happens to be out, that was the spot he took over out there? Right? Question mark?

Either way, it works for us, though. In the playoffs, I'd like for him to be one of our starters. But this bullpen stint will prepare him for an emergency closing situation in October.

I just got back to the city, and walked past the guys with the big guns. Fortunately, they didn't shoot me in the head five times for doing absolutely nothing.

This weekend, I saw a truck with a flamey-logo on the back that said "Drinkwater." Turns out it was some roofing company called J. D. Drinkwater. I wonder if J. D. is related to Kapstein. Eh, no, probably not.

Good news: We play Tampa Bay. Good news part deux: On ESPN tonight.

Update: Apparently, our game isn't good enough for the NY area, as ESPN is giving us Orioles-Rangers. Terrible job.

Plaque indicating Lou Gehrig's birthplace, from my window.


Closeup of plaque.

Too bad it's not Ted Williams' birthplace. But still. Click to enlarge, yo.