Loaded, no out, needing a run. Gotta score there.

What are the odds a coin flip lands heads? Fifty percent. Tails? Fifty percent. But on that one flip in a million, it'll land on its edge. At least that's what the 8:00 PM episode of The Twilight Zone told me tonight. When the folks at the Sci-Fi Channel were planning this year's July 4th TZ marathon chose to put that episode on in the ultimate prime time slot, I'm sure they had no idea how relevant the choice would be.

On a fly ball to the fence, sometimes the ball will go over. Sometimes it won't. But on that one time in a million, it will sit there, precariously balanced on top of the fence. That was the case at Yankee Stadium today. Kevin Youkilis hit a long fly that Johnny Damon leaped for at the wall. It went into, then out of his glove, before bouncing on the top of the fence. It landed there, bounced up again, then landed and stayed. All this while the fence is moving back and forth, having been slammed into by the left fielder. After an extremely long half-second or so, thanks to one final wall reverberation, the ball fell onto the warning track. Youk ended up with a game-tying triple, and Damon left the game, injured.

Lowell's three-run dong gave the Sox a 6-3 lead. After a long rain delay, the Yanks almost had a 1900s-style comeback. Papelbon entered the game up 6-4 in the ninth, and with two outs, he got a fly ball to center. Coco came in and made a great diving catch. The umpire ruled "I missed it"--er, "trapped ball," and suddenly the ten Yankee fans who actually stayed thought maybe the mystique and aura they've heard about from past generations (i.e. bullshit) was back! But, no, the Red Sox proved once again who the gods are shining down on in the modern era, as the tying run flied deep to center. You know I love it when the Yanks fall just short. Especially at home, against us. And mega-especially when their fans get some kind of false hope that maybe, just maybe, things are starting to go their way once again and that the magical, finicky curse will finally settle on their side.

So we remain three back in a race it's too early to care about, and six up in one that always matters to me. Happy birthday, George.


[A note about the video: Yes, it's funny when Michael Kay makes the "holy shit" call only to be wrong. (See the "triple play!" in the Pokey Reese game.) But what's more funny to me about his call is how he excitedly yells "runners go" on the pitch, before quickly realizing it's a 3-2, 2 out situation, when runners literally always go, provided they're on first or have another runner behind them, and makes a weak recovery attempt by casually adding, "3-2...," as if to say, "...as they normally would on 3-2...")]

[And check out this game, wouldja?]

Did you all see Girardi with his fake anger last night? He even called a meeting. (Read: Look, Hank, see how we know beating the Red Sox is the most important thing?)

As usual, people will talk about how the games lack what they once had a few years ago--but to me the most fun and exciting part of the rivalry is watching the Yanks get embarrassed, have distractions, and, you know, shit the bed. So this year is fun, fun, fun, like we thought it would be. Gotta keep it going today.

I tried to tell everybody how the Yanks had one of their all time classic cheap wins the night before, scoring runs without the benefit of hits, and Texas handing them the game on a silver platter. Instead, NESN viewers were told of the Yanks' "offensive explosion." What a joke. So that's why it was extra-cool that we shut their asses out last night.

The best way to end a losing streak is with a complete game shutout over the Yanks on the road. Lester was awesome. Our starting pitching for the most part has been great, it's just too bad we couldn't have won even two of those last five games. But we're going to the playoffs either way, so it doesn't really matter.

You don't usually get really easy wins like that in The Bronx. And we've got Beckett against Rasner tomorrow at 1.

We're 3 out of first, the Yanks are 8 out.

And it's New Year's in July, as the Twilight Zone marathon has begun!

I just bought some old Cuban baseball publications. They have pictures and results from the world baseball championships. Stuff like that. They're from the 60s and 70s. I opened the first book and almost immediately found this picture:

That's right, it's Mike Lowell's dad, Carlos Lowell. Pictured on the Puerto Rican national team at the '71 games in Cuba.

Soon I'll post more pics from these cool books.

If you're still not reading Cardboard Gods, get on board now, please. Part of the Baseball Toaster site, CG is written by a Sox fan, Josh Wilker. Each piece is centered on a baseball card from his childhood (the 70s). But even if you never collected cards or aren't a baseball fan at all, you should enjoy the site if you like thoughtful, often mind-blowing writing. Today's entry is incredible.

Some nice A-Rod marital troubles to cheer us all up. Let's see if that wife of his will be strong and finally walk away. (But for the sake of Yankee distractions, C-Rod, please stick around!)

I was all pissed off and about to write a long post about my pissed-off-ed-ness, but then I got a laugh.

After writing on Joy of Sox that I hope DeWayne Staats "gets hit by a car twice," an anonymous commenter went to my Dirty Water blog and asked if my publisher knows that I go around spouting threats of violence and that that's "illegal" and "taken seriously." Hahaha. Hoping someone gets hit by a car twice DOES NOT constitute a "threat of violence." I can hope the president gets hit by a car twice, and I can shout it from the top of the Tropicana Dome. I only hope my publisher is aware of the pride I take in my right to completely non-threatening freedom of speech. As well as my comic stylings (that's where the "twice" comes in--if you REALLY want someone to get injured, one car would suffice, get it?) I'm wondering if the person thought, since I spoke of "hoping the Devil Rays come to Fenway in October" (meaning to get their asses beat in the playoffs), followed by the car thing, that I'm somehow waiting with my car at Fenway Park to run over DeWayne Staats when he arrives.

I also have the right to call the Rays by their TRUE name, the DEVIL Rays, without ever having to pay a fine. Devil Rays. Devil Rays. Devil Rays. Devil Rays. Devil Rays.

Anyway, what got me really pissed was the few bars of Sweet Caroline that played after the shitty Devil Rays swept us. I just don't get it. Why do they want us for a rival? We're not a hate-able team. We went 86 years without a title. Now we've won two in four years. If they're looking for the team that's won on average every four years for the last hundred, they're looking in the wrong place. Is it the Sox fans in their park? Is it our fault that the Devil Rays fans, should they exist, never showed up until the team was good? And that we were loyal enough fans to go all the way down there just to root of our team? EVEN WHEN THEY HADN'T WON IN 86 YEARS? They should learn something about loyalty from that. Worry about your own lack of passion, and if you need an enemy, the Yanks are right there waiting. All the Red Sox did was finally beat the Yanks in the coolest fashion, to the delight of sane people everywhere, all while being the fun-lovingest team ever.

I mean, let's take the '92-'93 Blue Jays. They won two in a row. I don't remember going to Fenway and seeing the Sox play the Jays and thinking, We MUST beat the Jays! They're our "rival"!!! Let's mock them by playing a song from their stadium!!! I mean who the fuck cares, right? As long as the Yanks aren't winning, everything's jake.

This is like in the early 90s, when my Nebraska Huskers used to kick the crap out of Colorado every year. Finally, Colorado "decided" that we were their "rival." And you know what happened? We still kicked their asses tear after year.

And so that's how I started hating the Devil Rays. Screw 'em. Dead to me. I had been excited to see them finish ahead of the Yanks, especially since the Steinbrenners are based in Tampa. And I'll still root for them against the Yanks, of course. But if they wanna be dicks, we're gonna have to treat 'em like dicks....or something. No mercy. Like I said in my "threat" comment: I hope they have to play us in October.

And I hope Eric Wilbur appreciates Fenway a little more after watching the last three games. Cowbells, catwalks, and carpet. Now THAT's baseball, right?

But more about winning and the hatred that often accompanies it. I'm an underdog fan. A lot of people are. And a lot of teams that win a lot are gonna be hated by us underdog fans. But my god, I still judge the team based on what they are. The Lakers of a few years ago--Shaq, Kobe...screw 'em. But the '86 Bears--sunglasses, headbands, anti-authority shit. As a 10 year old, I ate that stuff up. The '78 Yanks? Pure evil. The '79 "We Are Family" Pirates? Fun!

Of course, some franchises build up a legacy of hatred. The Cowboys, Notre Dame, the Yanks. Are the Red Sox one of those type teams? Not unless we win ten more championships in the next 30 years or something. And still, it was often said about those 90s Yankees teams that "you can't hate THESE Yankees" and that they "weren't your father's Yankees" and that because Joe Torre wasn't the son of the devil, we somehow weren't supposed to hate them. While I happened to think this was a load of utter bullshit, people still said it. So the '04-'07 Red Sox--come on! We're a likeable bunch with no history of winning all the time that the Yanks have. So I don't get it. The Cubs--what am I supposed to do about them? Am I supposed to love them, love them, love them, and then BOOM, right when they win, start hating them? I don't think so. They haven't won in 100 years--what's hate-able about that, even if they win the next three? And if suddenly Cubs fans are filling Fenway Park, well, I'll know that's our own damn fault for not BUYING TICKETS TO OUR OWN PARK, which is what all these other teams should be doing.

I blame society. Like I was talking about recently, people only seem to remember what JUST happened. So in these other-baseball-team fans' minds, the Red Sox do win all the time. So I got Yankee fans in one ear tellin' me we're down 26 to 7, and Devil Rays fans in the other tellin' me we always win and they never win. And I have commenters telling me that when I talk about the Yanks, I'm obsessed with them and I should care about my own team, but when I talk about my own team, I'm accused of being "center of the universe"-ish.

And just to throw another dick-wrench into my shitty night, the Yanks have a classic Yankee win. I mean, seriously, if you wanna see the average Yankee game for the last thirty years, go to mlb.tv and watch the archived game. I'm talkin' loading the bases on no hits, and then scoring a run on a walk. Bloop broken bat doubles. Inning-ending double plays botched by the other team. The other team finally getting the lead but then putting some guy who looks like a Muppet version of Chucky on the mound who'd never pitched before, with no one warming behind him, and watching him implode. At that point, the Yanks actually had 6 runs on 4 hits, but they finally broke through against the minor league Muppet, winning, I don't know, 35-7 or something. If you think I'm exaggerating about how the Yanks got their runs (up until they pulled away off Chucky McMuppet), watch the game.

So....Devil Rays, you asked for it. If you're still around at the end, you're goin' down. We have this guy called Papi who usually plays, too.

Now we go on to The Bronx. We can't possibly keep having the tying run up or on base in the ninth and barely lose AGAIN...right?

Edited to add: I just saw a highlight of Rays fans holding up a sign saying "Red Sox Nation has been overtaken." Sar cas tic slow clap... having more of your own fans in your own park is what you're supposed to do, stupid. I meant to mention this earlier, but why isn't NESN pointing out to the casual fan that it's a weekday series? I think we have as many fans as we always do on a mid-week July series in Tampa--it's just that the Devil Rays fans are filling in the 20,000 seat that are normally empty anyway. And besides, from what I saw on TV, the crowd was STILL seemingly all wearing red. If the Rays bring 100 fans to Fenway next time they play us up here, then we'll be impressed.


PS. I guarantee you DeWayne Staats hopes Red Sox fans get hit by cars twice every day...

I don't check the lowest common denominator sites, so I apologize if this has been brought up, the video shown, the guy interviewed, etc. But I couldn't help but notice the guy in the crowd giving the finger last night. Today, when I saw that the replay of the game was in the ninth, I got my camera and snapped a shot of the TV. (I was surprised they hadn't edited it out.) So, here's the bird-man of St. Pete:



Sox against the Beelzebub Beams again tonight--'zaka vs. 'zmir.

Hank's latest complaint.

The official fugitive on the loose case of RSF/PT is over. Sam Israel, after stealing hundreds of millions of dollars from people, has turned himself in after his fake suicide and escape attempt. Hopefully the 20-year sentence he was trying to avoid becomes 40!

Thunder and lightning, thunder and lightning. All we get around here. And I kinda love it.

I'll have to put up my recent photos of killer skies. Oh, and you know who else I have a picture of? Mike Lowell's dad. I don't think any exist on the internet yet. I'll post that here soon.

4. Al Smith. (1926)


The most intriguing players in the Baseball Encyclopedia are the guys who only played in one game. On June 15th, 1926, the New York Giants signed 22-year old right-handed pitcher Al Smith, who'd just helped Villanova University to a 19-3 record under head coach Charles McGeehan. He wasn't the only college boy to be picked up by the Giants. On June 19th, 1926, The New York Times' Harry Cross wrote of the previous day's New York-Pittsburgh game:


The game took on a decidedly intercollegiate atmosphere before the afternoon was over. John McGraw just at present has a decided complex for the educated ball player. The Polo Grounds is all cluttered up with young men who can scan Greek verse, throw a problem in calculus, tear off a bit of Sanscrit or tell you just what's wrong with the universe. But are they also baseball wise? That's the riddle. Pete Cote, just out of Holy Cross, went in as a pinch hitter on his first day with the club. Al Smith, who took curving the baseball as part of his curriculum at Villanova, pitched a couple of innings. Neither of the students had his mind completely off his books.


Smith pitched the seventh and eighth against the defending World Champion Pirates that day, giving up two runs and four hits, and walking two. (Boxscore pictured.) He was pinch-hit for in the bottom of the eighth by Travis "Stonewall" Jackson, who was making his return from a month-long absence to due a "wounded knee." Jackson would play another decade, eventually being voted into the Hall of Fame. Al Smith would never play in another major league game.

Smith was one of several players given a brief chance by McGraw that June, before being thrown on the scrap heap. The captain of Al's Villanova team, Joe Connell, appeared in two games for New York, too, and Pete Cote only played in one more after the game described above. The '26 Giants, two years removed from winning four straight pennants, would quickly fall out of the race, finishing in the second division for just the second time in the modern era. They wouldn't win another league title until another Al Smith came along.


Al K. Smith died 13 years ago, at the age of 91, in San Diego, California.

Previous Smiths: #3, #2 & #1.

Labels: SOBs

Yo soy frustrated. That happens when you have the tying run in sight in the ninth, like, every night and all these other chances to tie throughout the night, and your pitchers pitch well enough to win again and again.

But note that my frustration has nothing to do with the fact that the team we've just lost two in a row to are just ahead of us in the standings. We're not even at the All-Star break yet. Besides, I'll take a low-scoring loss over a high-scoring one.

The only team I care about year-round besides the Sox is the Yanks. A loss by them always seems to make everything okay again. And guess what just happened minutes ago? Damon makes the final out, after a double play ball when they should've been sacrificing, which came after Mariano gave up the go-ahead run in the top of the ninth. Nice.

So, the other day, former Yankee announcer and current curmudgeonly voice of the DEVIL Rays DeWayne Staats spouted some bullcrap about MLB only caring about the Yankees and Red Sox. Because we Sox fans all have lived these charmed lives where our team has won the World Series almost every season for as long as we remember. I fucking wish we had had some of these so-called advantages for the first 30 years of my life, and the 50 before that. Ass hole.

Also, catwalks.

Madonna and A-Rod?

Redsox.com just put up the Coke section (left field pavilion reserved) seats for all of September and for the upcoming homestand. (And the last weekend of August vs. Chicago.) Pairs if you want 'em. 75 each. Or 200 each from the scalper sites. Your choice.

On Moss' ball in the ninth, I shouted "hit the roof or something" in desperation. It actually worked, and Moss got a double out of the deal. A sac fly later, we had the tying run on third. But Lugo lined out. I blame NESN's Fenway centerfield camera as usual, as the ball appeared to be up the middle if you're used to the "new" angle. I hate not knowing where the ball is going, and if I can't properly will the ball to go to the outfield, how is it supposed to know where to go?

Yanks just lost, 2-1, at home to Texas.

If you came from another planet this past week and only paid attention to the Boston sports media, you'd think Red Sox fans know nothing about baseball and don't know what to do at Fenway Park, which, by the way, is a horrible circus side show of a baseball park.

As someone who's constantly praising my own team's fanbase and ballpark, you can imagine how pissed I am about this. When you write something, you have to know the whole world is reading it, not just your local area. So when you make false accusations, the country reads it and thinks it's true. This is yet another reason I hate most media. These people aren't fans, they're critics. Whose opinion do you value more when you want to see a movie, your best friend who knows your tastes, or some stuffy critic?

When the Red Sox announced that they might be wearing green in honor of the Celtics' championship, a commenter on UniWatch said, "they always break out the green--St. Patrick's Day, Earth Day, Celtics championships...." I attempted to inform this person that St. Patrick's day always falls in spring training, that they wore merely a patch for Earth Day, and that they'd worn green for the Celtics (actually in honor of Red Auerbach) one time. Therefore, the guy took something that literally had happened ONE TIME IN OVER A HUNDRED YEARS in the regular season, and referred to it as happening as "all the time." This is an example of how our no-long-term-memory society works.

And it happened again this week with Sox fans and Fenway Park. Yes, I noticed that Fenway Park had a few pre-game ceremonies last week. Jerry Remy Day, celebrating the man's 20 years in the broadcast booth, and the yearly-ish Rousch racing day. Eric Wilbur turned this into "Fenway Park always does some cra-a-a-zy pre-game festival and..." well, I don't know what his point was, other than, Look, your team only cares about money and, um, announcers, and...Yankees rule! The point is, look at the whole league. Watch games at other parks. And in other sports. And then come back to Fenway and try to criticize it. Good luck.

We're talking about a team that's taking a historic park that so many people love, and doing everything they can to not only keep it around but improve it so it can be around for another hundred years. In an era where all the other parks are branded with corporate logos. Ours is a park that doesn't need giveaways. There's no magnetic keychain night, no fireworks shows. God forbid they use the hour break before the game when nothing's going on to give the fans some kind of pre-game festivity on occasion.

Maybe Eric's thing is T-shirt tosses and near-naked women dancing on the field between innings. Maybe he likes it when scoreboards put up a "noise meter" to try to get the crowd to cheer, or a da-da-da-da, da-daaaa, charge! sound effect. Maybe he would've liked it if we remodeled the park in the 70s to try to make it look like all the other cookie cutters, or built a new park made to look like all the other new-cookie cutters that we could call Careerbuilder.com in association with Overstock.com Yards at Burger King Plaza.

I don't know what he's looking for, but if you want to see baseball as it was a century ago, at the major league level, the closest you're gonna get, by far and away, is Fenway Park.

Eric also takes that years-old, unoriginal side-jab at "Red Sox Nation" by reminiscing about the days before "people showed you their identification card to prove they're a fan." First of all, we're not stupid. We don't think that really happens. If anyone's witnessed this, email me and I'll send you a million dollars in cash. His point was (and right on time, too--this only started four years ago!) that he doesn't like how the RSN card appears to be some kind of proof of fandom and bla bla bla. For the millionth time, it's a fan club. If it were just a card that said you were a Red Sox fan, no one would buy it. And no one is buying it for that reason. The card is a membership card. To a fan club. Not a new premise. The Celtics have "Club Green," the Yankees have some club--Kiss has Kiss Army. The point of these things is: you join, and you get perks. The team sells it in a way that makes you feel "part of the club"--that's just marketing. Not one Red Sox fan thought, Oh, no, I better get this or I won't be "official," and not one non-Red Sox fan decided to become a fan by getting a card that says they're one.

My point is, people go around wearing Red Sox shirts and hats. Everybody at the game is wearing one or the other. Is this not a way to show everyone what team you like? If you're mad about people using a card to show they're a Sox fan (which, again, and I can't stress this enough, NO ONE DOES!), why aren't you super-pissed about everybody wearing 200-dollar "official" Red Sox jerseys?? This is where your theory is flawed. I win. The Red Sox Nation membership gets you tickets, merchandise, mlb.tv, etc., etc., and, least of all a little card that says you're "in the club." A 200-dollar jersey gets you, well, "in the club" without any of the perks. I'll take the membership--and I'll make my own jersey with a Sharpie. (And no, I don't have a membership--I got one the first year, so I could get more tickets, have more chances to buy tickets before others, and get the free mlb audio package since I was living outside the NESN area at the time...man, what a stupid club to join, huh? And not once did I feel the need to run around showing anyone my card to "prove" I was a Sox fan.)

And that brings us to Red Sox fans. I did get to listen to what turned out to be "pink hat day" on WEEI, since I was in the car trying to find a softball field in Newton for about two hours. The hosts kept explaining how "pink hat" isn't gender specific, it has nothing to do with the color pink, and that it just refers to the casual or bandwagon fan. Yet people kept calling up literally defending their pink Red Sox gear, completely missing the point. But that tells you something. "Real" Red Sox fans who happen to have a pink or other off-team color Red Sox hat are offended by the term. And it is a sexist term. Because if you're referring to those bandwagon fans as the ones in the pink hats, well, considering 99% of men wouldn't wear a pink hat, you're basically saying, "female fans don't belong." (Funny, isn't that WEEI's corporate motto?) A caller made a great point, saying we should call them "top hats," because the business-people who get the front row tickets know nothing about the game. (But again, that's a lot more common elsewhere--look at the box seats at Yankee Stadium or the floor seats at MSG to see some serious suit-action.)

Now, going back to my earlier example of how people see one thing one time, and it turns into "that thing that happens all the time"--I heard somebody on that station talking about how a third of the crowd at Fenway left a game early last weekend. It was a thirteen inning game. Because of that one incident, the Fenway fanbase is suddenly a bunch of morons who leave games early? Sorry, not gonna happen. Another guy then was making a Yankee Stadium comparison, saying, "Yankee fans go to the games." Here I am, your pal Jere, who goes to LOTS of games, and also has seen a majority of Yankee games on TV or in person over the last 25 years, telling you, as I always have, (though I never thought I'd have to do it in a defending way), that it's the opposite. Red Sox fans go to the games, and stay to the end. Yankee fans go when they're winning, and leave early even then. I seriously can't believe the example that suddenly turned us into some kind of LA, leave-early, know-nothing fans was a game where people left in the THIRTEENTH INNING. Play thirteen innings at any park at any time, and the crowd will not be full at the end. You know, I remember tuning into that game in the 11th, and commenting to my mom how impressed I was at the size of the crowd, after all those innings in the hot sun. And because of the fact that some people perceived it as "everybody left," we're now a bunch of idiots.

People leave games early when it's too cold, too hot, too late, et cetera, no matter where you go. But again, if you want the most loyal fanbase, who never thinks a game is over (which we know is true after 2004, but which we always had faith was true before that, as is evidenced by the fact that the team's attendance has been above league average every year but two in the last 30-plus years), and doesn't arrive in the third and leave in the sixth, go nowhere else but Fenway Park.

Are there bandwagoners? Yes. Are there stupid fans who talk on their phones and miss the action on the field and don't know the rules? Yes. Can you buy a team hat that's green, purple, or pink? Yes. Are there a lot of corporation- and advertising-driven things that I don't like about even my team? Yes. Welcome to America! Look at every other city and team before you criticize the Red Sox and Fenway and Sox fans. You'll quickly realize how great you have it. To sum it up: new owners come in, Fenway gets improved, team wins two championships after none in 86 years. Media: complain, complain, complain--team sucks, fans suck, park sucks. You suck.

[For another take on this from another fan sick of all the misconceptions, check out Red Sox Chick's post from the other day.]

So we're driving on 95 when suddenly we hear a noise. Sounds like a flat. The noise gets louder. I try to get to the right. A truck is in the way. The noise gets really loud as we realize our tire is dying. It fully blows, and I have no choice but to pull onto the left shoulder (which is at least as wide as the driving lanes, fortunately). Oh, and it's night. So we call the pigs, and they say "okay, we'll send someone right out." After another call to them, they dispatch a tow truck. After a third call and 20 minutes, we're still sitting there, sweating through every car that flies by, hoping it doesn't veer slightly left and kill us. The tow truck arrived at the half hour mark, and the statey didn't get there until about five minutes from then. 35 minutes. That's how long it takes a cop to get to you when you're in danger, helpless. When there's a fucking state police headquarters no more than 10 miles up the highway. Get up, get get get down, 911 is joke in yo' town. And in my state, apparently. (Maybe next time we should just call 'em and pretend we have a sixteenth of an ounce weed in the car--that'll bring 'em screeching onto the scene.)

Oh, and the whole time we're in the tow truck on our way to get the tire fixed, the driver is telling us about how the stretch of road we're on is called the "death strip" and that drivers are constantly drifting onto the shoulder, slamming into broken down cars, and that once it happened while he was setting up a tow, and he had to jump over the hood and roll down the embankment to save his own life. So....

We're safe and/or sound, back here in good ol' 1955. The night before was much more fun, as we went to my friend's wedding in NYC. I got to see a lot of people I hadn't seen in years. And Kim got to hear a bona fide "eh, No, Peg" from my friend, the one who tried (and is still trying, along with me and a select few others) to make it a nationwide catch-phrase about a decade ago.

The groom and I don't see each other very often, so on the wedding day, we returned DVDs to each other we'd traded a while back. He had my The Warriors and I had his Style Wars. As you can see, I needed a place to put Style Wars during the ceremony, so we stuck it in the little book holder thingy in front of us, next to some book called "Celebrating the Youkilis" or something. My friend Jen snapped a shot of it from her whatever-machine.

Too bad about the last two days of crappy losses. Thank Gedman we don't have to see our pitchers bat anymore....more on the Red Sox side of life later. I kinda feel like Tommy Lee Jones at the end of The Fugitive right now.....