Friday, June 30, 2006

The Rumors of My Drowning Have Been Greatly Exagerated

So we have moved all our earthly possessions into our new condo in Alexandria, VA. All that after my back completely went out on Tuesday, two days before scheduled moving day. Saw the Tuesday game, and the Petey game, but not last night's game. Tito created them and called them "Good." However, we have no idea when our DSL will be up at home, as our phone line is not working, and thanks to God and his merciless rain here the last week, apparently Verizon thinks that people whose homes were "flooded" and their lives "ruined" take precedence over someone moving into a fourth-story condo. So no computer at home for a while. I'll try to check in at work as frequently as I can without the AQ getting on my shit. Until I see you again, I hightly recomend the following Youtube.com clip for your viewing pleasure (totally found by Bill Simmons).

Monday, June 26, 2006

Yada Yada Yada

Ibid.

Saturday, June 24, 2006

"He's done it again, David Ortiz..."

So said Joe C. on EEI...and I missed it again. I just listened to the highlight of the radio call (which is always better than the tv call) on sox.com. And the thing that struck me? Joe C. sounds almost matter of fact about it. Excited, but like it was expected. Which it was. We ALWAYS expect him to deliver. Are we a bunch of spoiled brats or what? Also, apparently, and this is simply a rumor I'm trying to start, John Henry has asked ole Buddy S. if the Sox can move to the NL Least. You know, because he used to own the Expos and the Marlins. And cause they can't beat us. No word yet on what ole Buddy thinks of that idea.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Well, Spain is the Red Sox of the World Cup...

Ok. I've been dreading writing this post all day, but I've talked all this through with anyone who would listen, and now I want a record of my organized thoughts some twelve and so hours after the debacle that was USA vs. Ghana. So, Sox fans (who may not be soccer fans), please suffer this sad fool for a few minutes.

First things first: Congratulations to Ghana, a country with the population of Indiana and Illinois combined. Interesting little anecdote from the pre-game: The president of Ghana asked all non-essential businesses to close at noon. So that there would be enough electricity to power all the televisions throughout the country so that people could watch. Because apparently the power system in Ghana is so tenuous that having the lights on in stores and such would black out all the TVs. And we in America think we know something about devotion to sport.

Now to the analysis:

1. Landon Donovan. He missed a wide open shot on goal in the first 20 minutes. He was non-existent in pushing the ball forward throughout the game. He sent in one of the worst corner kicks you'll ever see. Around the 80th minute, he took the ball swooping in on the right wing outside the 18 with green grass for days ahead of him, and didn't push into the box or take what was a direct, unchallenged shot. He dribbled into midfield and tried to slide a pass into the box that was intercepted. And throughout the game, he was tentative in attacking 50/50 balls; looked like he was afraid of the hard tackle.

2. Claudio Reyna. I love Claudio, he's the backbone of our team, with over 100 caps, but the mistake he made to give up the first goal was utterly inexcusable. Third-grade soccer at best. Instead of shoe-topping the ball back to Keller, he tried to make the turn and clear the ball, totally underestimating the speed of Ghana's forwards. Which was a problem throughout; Ghana was faster and tougher on every tackle and approach to the ball.

3. Bruce Arena. So many things to leave me scratching my head. Why no Bobby Convey in the starting 11? Why open with a 4-5-1? We needed goals, why not open with two forwards? Why, when Reyna left in the 37th minute, did he not replace him with Eddie Johnson instead of Ben Olsen (who was lightning in a bottle at times on the wing, but not a scoring threat)? Why not sub in EJ to start the second half? Why wait so long to start subbing in offense, while Ghana was freely subbing in for defense? Why sub out Eddie Lewis, who was the only one offering any sort of quality service into the box? Why stick with an ineffective Donovan/Beasley tandem in center midfield for so long? Beasley played one good attacking ball the whole three games- the feed to a very impressive Clint Dempsey. Bruce has brought stability to the team for the last eight years, but time is up. We need to go out and get a hard-nosed, veteran European coach who has been around the block and won. Our guys need to learn how to play from a champion if they ever want to be champions.

4. Marcus Merk. The German referee is one of the most respected in the world. Did he make a bad call on the penalty on Gooch? Maybe. But he's known for being a real stickler for rules. And anyway, if Carlos Bocanegra doesn't make two disastarous attempts at a clearance, the penalty never has a chance to occur. And the US couldn't get a second goal anyway. Ghana would have played no different at 1-1 than up 2-1. Italy was up on the short-handed Czechs. All Ghana needed was a tie. And Ghana registered 32 fouls to the US's 16, so it's not like Merk was picking on us. And the card on Michael Essien for Ghana was terrible as well, and now he has to miss the match against Brazil. So really, they got screwed pretty bad, too.

5. Bottom line: we don't have one go-to, game changing strike-fast player, like so many other countries do. We generated 4 shots on goal in 3 games; that's 32nd out of 32 teams in the tournament. Until we have a really threatening goal scorer, teams will sit back and give us midfield, but not the box. Plus, in all 3 games, we gave up a goal within the first 25 minutes. We were always playing from behind. You just can't win games at that level when you're constantly running uphill.

6. Final observation: there were nearly 75 people in the Irish Channel this morning by half-time. To watch an opening round soccer game in the United States. On a work day in mid-morning. Progress is being made. Maybe not as fast as some of us would like, but it's being made.

And seriously, nobody has anything to say about the Hester the Mo(Lester) post? Disappointing. I thought someone, besides My Wife, would chime in...oh well, I did tell a friend that that post was gonna lose my readers for a minute...have a nice Friday. Back to our regularly scheduled program real soon.

Big D's New Hit: "Little Bitch USA"

I'd call Landon Donovan a little bitch, but that would be a disservice to little bitches everywhere. More to come later.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

This Guy Needs a Soundtrack

So, excellent work by Double-A Jon...his intro music should be by Hester the Mo(Lester). Except that she only sings about a short, high-pitch-voiced guy dying in a bathroom and war and stuff. Over and over and over again. But ole Johnny Wheelwright can't get enough of it. And we can't get enough of the Nats. Hester would've hated a team called the Nationals; why should we be celebrating American "Nationals" when fucking Johnson is killing babies in Southeast Asia, she'd say. Except that it's Bush killing babies in the Middle East. Hester would've hated that, too.

Don't know whatcha got till it's gone...

Forgive me for I have not blogged; it's been 6 days since my last blog-fession. Been busy, ok? Funny, too, because I've given out the url for this waste of (cyber)space to a whole bunch of people in the last week, and they're probably like, yeah, ok, he was funny for a week, and then he ran out of things to say.

At the very least, I ran out of time. Sooooo tired between the restaurant and the AQ, The Kid running wild, and trying to iron out all the details for the impending move. Can't wait till it's all over and I can sit on my balcony with a lovely frosty beverage and just be.

Sox are rolling, eh? Nice sweep of the Sons of Johnny Sain...some prayer requests just don't get answered, Bobby Cox. And, yes, I'll admit I turned Sunday night's game off, but not right after Kerosene Rudy one-pitched his way one step further into my nightmares. I turned it off right after Manny's 3-pitch just-lookathon. They were on the way to ruining what had been a great Father's Day...so I turned it off. And kicked myself in the gear Monday morning when I saw the score. Oh well.

Remember ice cream sundaes in a little batting helmet? Used to get 'em at Fenway, and I think @ Steve's sometimes, too. Anyhoo, My Wife got me four of the little helmet cups for FD! Awesomely silly. So we went out and got ice cream and caramel and whipped cream and had helmet sundaes while we watched the Sunday game. And My Kid loves to eat yogurt covered raisins out of one. Also got the Gaelic Red Sox T-shirt, which I can't wait to rock at the Black Cat in July when Mike and the Street Dogs are in town...

And as for my adopted 2nd hometown/2nd hometown team, El Nationales...well, I will offer a heartfelt hug for coming back from 9-2 on Saturday, for walking-off all over the Yunks on Sunda(e)y, and for laying down in Fenway. I love ya, Nats, but you'll never be more than an occasional summer fling; I'll never think about you in January the way I do about a certain other team. And oh yeah, great to see ole Kap back in the Fens. Always a crowd pleaser.

Oh yeah, one last thing; finally saw "Napolean Dynamite" last night. Or at least most of it. I mean up until the point where I decided that it was maybe one of the worst, overhyped, lamest, awfullest, stupidest, not funniest things I've ever seen. So call me unappreciative of what I know everyone thinks is a comedically genius 90 minutes. I'm fine with that. Really.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

It Must Have Been Something You Saaaiiiiddd....

Ok. I know Sirius is the radio station of Tom Brady and the NFL. Didn't know they were the official radio station of the Mafia. Or that the Cutting Crew was so influential with the Dons. But behold the new Sirius ad campaign. Make sure you click on "Trunk."

And I wish to hell I could've found the Horatio Sanz/Will Ferrell skit with "The Wedding Singers" because that's what My Wife and I immediately thought of, but the best I can offer is this.

Either way, like Tom Brady and SNL, this post is "Not a Touchdown!"

How Could Hell Be Any Worse? Kansas City's a Fuckin' Curse!

Kansas City Royals: 17-47, 24 games back.

Boston Red Sox: 36-27, 1 game back.

Kansas City Royals payroll: $47,294,00

Boston Red Sox payroll: $120,100,524

I'll take full responsibility for getting a little irrational a few hours back, but seriously, I guess things could be a lot worse. Not that petty little things like "perspective" matter to most of us. All things considered, we should thank God that we're Sox fans. I can't imagine going through a summer of baseball when you're out of the race by May 1. Thus, I salute you, Brent Giese, Kansas City Royals fan. To you, we must look like a bunch of jack-asses getting all worked up because one tired-ass pitcher blew apart a joga bonita. Your amazingly ridiculous amount of over-analysis of a really bad team allows me to draw one or two (or both) conclusions: 1. You REALLY love your Royals. 2. You have no job. Either way, your slick, info-saturated blog shows a deep love of the game, even if your team's biggest signing was Doug Mientkiewicz. Thanks for reminding me that, A. Doug Mientkiewicz sucks, and B. That baseball is still the greatest game in the world, even when you have a chance to set the all-time record for losses in a season. Thanks, Brent, on behalf of all over-adrenalized, micro-managing, panic-prone, perspective-losing idiots everywhere. That said, someone needs to sack up and take responsibility for this bullpen. Oh, and for Matt Clement, too. He couldn't find a plate with a Crate and Barrel catalog.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Just Trying to Help

While we're in full-on fake panic mode, I'll offer this link to the Red Sox offense, ya know, just to be helpful...it doesn't say it deals specifically with their issues, but maybe a little nugget of help can be gleaned.

And the Yunks beat Cleveland, who hasn't taken their finger out of their throat yet from the last week of '05...

So all around, depressing. Hope you all had a great Wednesday...

Can Johnny Utah Catch this Guy?


Since everyone is in damn near panic mode re: the bullpen, I submit the following over-the-top knee-jerk blog entry.

The next ex-Red Sock...

From Disappointment to Billy Bragg

Oh Julian. You did it again. You're the anti-Ortiz. Everytime he comes up, in our hearts, we're convinced he's going to get a hit when we need it most. And you, well, let's just say that on the one-to-Renteria scale of bad pick ups, you're Scott Sauerbeck. Not good, my Freddy friend, not good. Last night you found a lost invitation to the art gallery and you shit all over the Monets.

Enough about that, because it's depressing to see such a taut, wonderful baseball game ruined. And as I'm finding out, even more depressing to write about it. At least we're not the Ukrainian soccer team. Apparently their starting lineup is Shevchenko(+10 Tavarezes) (Sorry, addidas).

So glad that the Punky Chips Ahoy thing is finally starting to permeate pop culture. My Wife and I have had that little ditty stuck in our heads forever. Such a cheap marketing ploy, though, just because Oi! rhymes with Ahoy. Like Roger Miret or Duane Peters is gonna switch from Soft Batch to Chips Ahoy just because some claymation poser sings a little song. How punk could those guys be, anyway? They were accosted and corrected by a monkey with a British accent (which in and of itself is kind of amusing). Maybe "punky" IS street slang for "chunky"; that monkey/Bobby doesn't know. He's going all Grandpa Simpson like, "I don't like the looks of those teenagers!" And they're just trying to rampage through town singing, channeling the spirit of that old-time cookie loving idealist of days gone by, Billy Bragg, because you know what? There is power in the cookie...

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

What if I was Peter Gammons?

*Sources inside my own family have made it clear that, despite their dyed-in-the-wool allegiance to the winners of Super Bowl XL , they do believe that Big Ben is a complete "ass-hat stupid fuck."

*An unnamed living room source reported that, on Monday between 11:55am-approx. 1:30pm, the USA soccer team did more to embarass America than Dubya during the same period of time.

*
The same source as above also noted that, in no other sport besides soccer, would you hear the following exchange between two commentators:

JP Delacamera: "Dida shoots it up the wing to Cafu, OVER TO KAKA!, flicks back to Cafu, over to Emerson, BACK TO KAKA, flicks on to Cafu, who turns it over." (Kaka is realllly good- that's why he's shouting.)

John Harkes: "Man, did the United States STINK yesterday." (They reallllyyy stunk- that's why he's shouting.)

(Incidentally, you will also never see a section of Fenway glowing with the light of LIT FLARES being waved about by over-excited fans, as was spotted in the Croatian supporters section during today's Brazil-Croatia match.)

*Maybe it's just me, but is Meredith Baxter Birney in every single movie on Lifetime?

*Pauley has been sent down to Pawtucket, Foulke to the DL, the ex-pres Van Buren back up, and Timlin Nugent is back in the 'pen. Sources say they'd still like to see Schill go eight innings tonight against the Inter-Continental Champion Tito "Johan" Santana.

*Finally, after watching seven complete and one partial soccer game over the last three days, it's back to baseball tonight, so enjoy the game and Go Sox!

Sunday, June 11, 2006

I Missed it Again...

Just got home from taking My Wife and Kid for a walk down to the Elipse, walking back in the apartment door and my dad calls. "Did you see it?" And I instantly knew I missed something great. I watch five hours of soccer, go for a walk with the Sox down 4-2, and Papi goes all walk-off on Texas' sorry ass. I know nothing else except that Becks didn't make it out of the 5th. What's his deal? It's starting to really concern me.

Looking forward to hearing about Jere's "shift" at the soon-to-be-domed Fenway park...did they give out free veggie dogs, too?

Oh, and Yunks down 6-5, getting desparate, bringing Mo in in the eighth...and natch, there's a 5:00 Sox game, and this is the only the second Sunday all year the restaurant is open...corporate buyouts are inconvenient. But we'll take their money. We'll always take their money.

Tomorrow, 11:55am, on the Deuce...Go USA!!!

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Is that why you called?

Caller: Is the rain gonna stop anytime soon? Are they gonna play any of these games today?

Host: That's a good question, and let's all assume that if I had those answers, I'd have mentioned that by now, right?

Caller: So nothing's been officially cancelled yet?

Host: No...not yet...is that really why you called, to get that official word from me about the games?

Caller: (sheepishly) No...I just really love the Sox and the rain is pissing me off, oh, sorry, ticking me off because I really didn't have much to do today besides watch the games. So this kind of sucks.

Host: (putting gun to head) Do you have kids? Play with them...read a book...go to a movie...X-Men's supposed to be pretty good...thanks for the call.

Click.

Really. Huh. Are you sure?

Caller: It seems like we get a lot more rain in Boston than we used to. Why can't we build a dome for the Sox?

Host: What?

Caller: A dome, so we can play when it rains.

Host: (skeptical) Ok...how do you build it, where you gonna put it?

Caller: Where Fenway is now.

Host: (finger is probably on the hangup button already) Ok...where the Sox play while it's being built?

Caller: At Fenway.

Host: (intrigued by caller's stupidity) Ok...but don't you have to knock down Fenway to build a dome?

Caller: (getting agitated at not being understood) NO! You just build a dome, a covering right over Fenway! (Duh!!!)

Host: Are you an engineer? Have you ever heard of engineering? I would have to say that the chances of that happening are pretty slim, pretty impossible I'd say. You know, financially and well, just in terms of engineering.

Caller: (deflated really quickly, btw) Really. Huh. Are you sure?

Host: Thanks for your call, though.

Click.

Looks Like Somebody Has a Case of the Saturdays...

At work. Blah. We don't open for dinner till 5:30 on Saturdays; I'm here to do paperwork and confirm reservations. Which I hate. I get sick of leaving messages. Everytime you see someone they're on their cell phone. But nobody ever answers the phone anymore. Who are all these people talking to? I think half the people are leaving messages, while everyone else screens their calls. Weird. That I'm giving that that much thought, I mean.

It's raining in Boston, 350 miles north, and I don't think Lester's coming around. Apologies to Counting Crows fans for that bastardization of a real bastard band. Have mlb radio on in the office, set to EEI, listening to all those knuckleheads that call sportstalk stations. Amazing how Chah-lee from Dot can come up with 13 scheduling permutations to solve all our weather related baseball needs in the time it just took me to type this sentence. It's EEI that shouldn't answer the phone. These people are killing me. Although I do miss hearing the accent on a regular basis, so that is making me feel kinda happy. Johnny from Chelmsford is talking about his first game...no kidding, this is rich. If I had the time, I'd do a call-by-call synopsis of this trainwreck...it would be a one way blog ticket to a metaphysical, sportstalk radio induced phrenological-type lobotomy.

Looks like the weather is nicey-nice in NYC...enjoy your Saturday and all. Maybe the ole ball game will start just as the restaurant is opening so I can't pay a bit of attention to it. Just the way the television likes it...always with a kick to the gear.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

I'm Quitting my Job

I can't believe this is the game I get to see none of...work-schmerk...The Wife has been calling about every 5 minutes with updates, as my illustrious bar staff has elected to click away from the Ocho over to the NBA Finals, you know, because of the well-known Rules of One Television that state that a championship game of any sort always trumps a non-championship game. Which is how we ended up with the National Spelling Bee (telecasted live!!! What a great country) on the tv one afternoon last week instead of the Espn day game that was on. There was a major debate about it, but Rules are Rules. And besides, it's good for us to see who the future got-beat-ups and serial killers of America are. "Can you use 'psycho-sadistic necrophilia' in a sentence please?" It's all a bunch of 12-year-old rainmen taking time out of their busy schedules clearing out space in the freezer for human organs long enough to tout the "advantages" of home schooling before a live, national television audience. Prodigies scare me.

Oh yeah, 9-3 last I heard. More later after I see a box and a recap. But The Wife said A-Dick was getting his pants booed off by the Yunks fans. Which must have made Jeter feel like someone was stealing all his good foreplay ideas. Poor guy.

Not That Most of You Care...

I realize that a lot of you Sox bloggers (who basically comprise my whole audience besides The Wife) won't care about what you see as the next two posts. But, for those who might enjoy discussing music with me, as well as baseball, the next two entries below this will tell you a little about what I care about, and why I love/hate things I love/hate. Since most of you probably didn't get the reference for the title of the "New Day Rising" post, some of the entries to this here little journal may not interest you as they have nothing to do w/ OPS or the like. Stick with me...I'm multi-faceted. Besides, the descriptor of my blog under the title tells you all you need to know. I'll try to keep the "my kid is the cutest kid in the world" stories to a minimum, but music you may have to deal with.

So for those who are still with me, here's an introduction to a few bands I either used to or currently love. Amongst many others. But I'm tolerant and I'll discuss just about any type of music, without judgement. For the most part. After all, I left the remote w/in reach of The Kid today and she found VH1 and I caught her dancing to a Dixie Chicks song. And I let her dance. I didn't change the channel. If that's not growing up, I don't know what is.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Where I'm Coming From, Pt. 2

(Also from my old Myspace page last fall- reposting these cuz I liked them.)
For those of you who thought I was too bitter about the Murphys show the other night, I say, "Behold the ever mighty Pennywise!" Go see them in a town near you...Lost City Angels from Boston Fucking Massachussetts started things off, and even though Sarah said the lead singer looked like George McFly, they kicked ass for a solid half hour... I was supposed to see them with the Suicide Machines when we were in Seattle, but I was too tired and I stayed in while Sarah went out w/ the crazy punkymom crew...glad we saw them tonight.Sick of it All never sounded so good, and they played a great set of old and newer stuff including a balls-out "Scratch the Surface" that had the karate kids in the pit going apeshit. And once again, they proved they're the only band that should do the braveheart thing...the kids set it off...Finally, Pennywise reminded me why I've been a fan for almost 15 years...great set list, including "My Own Way," "Alien," "My Own Country," "Every Single Day"(which they played warp 9 fast) and of course closed with a beautiful "Bro Hymn" that had me and Trey bouncing our asses off...so thank you, Pennywise, for taking the Murphys bad taste out of my mouth. High quality evening of mayhem, even if we did spend most of it in the balcony with a cup of coffee...at least I got a cool shout out from Fletcher for going off on the balcony...SOIA and Pennywise have been going a long f-ing time and they've never done anything to alienate their fans. They consistently put out great albums that extend and diversify their sound w/o compromising its quality or fierce independence. I know a lot of people say Pennywise is just a Bad Religion/Adolescents rip off, and there is definitely an element of that in their sound, but their simple, heartfelt sentiments, pride, anger, unity and defiance sound fresh with every new song they put out. They are a band who really cares about their fans, and they feed off that as much as the crowd feeds off them. You feel really involved at a Pennywise show, like your reaction is half the reason why they are playing so hard. They're playing with you, not to you. Lots of bands sing about unity- Pennywise relies on it at every show. Good job, Pennywise.

Where I'm Coming From, Pt. 1

(This was written on my old Myspace page last October.)
It started with such a flourish.
SLF's "Alternative Ulster" and then a little Billy Bragg came over the PA system, then the first bass drum beat of "The Foggy Dew" as the lights went down. The "Let's Go Murphys!" chant was in full-throat drowning out Sinead's wispy, familiar vocals. Then it stopped, and from the right side of the stage a piper appeared, but not DKM's Scruffy Wallace, no, it was the entire Washington, DC Emerald Society Pipe and Drum Column. And I almost wore the DCFD ESP&D t-shirt I bought at the fire department fundraiser at the Channel! Anyway, the pipes were blaring through a familiar march, of which name I can't recall, then right into "Cadence to Arms" (to DKM fans- "Scotland the Brave" to all others), and I leaned over to Declan and said, "If they go into 'Do or Die' here, this may be allright..." And...."You're Spirit's Alive."They didn't play "Do or Die," or "Get Up" or damn near anything else from the debut album. They played "BOTD," and "Barroom Hero"(sans carefully selected audience participant) and "Finnegans's," of course, and threw "3rd Man In" (which I guess is their token 'old school' song for the tour, as it's appeared on every set-list I've seen from this current debacle). But they played nothing from "The Gang's all Here" except "Amazing Grace," lots from "Sing Loud," a couple from "Blackout" and worst of all, nine, count 'em Shane McGowan style "one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine" songs from the new record, which, aside from Al's respectable cover of "The Green Fields of France," is an atrocity. That album made me weep for the band they used to be, and this show made we weep not only for that, but for my own getting old.I will say this for the Murphys- they have done as much for the sale of new Red Sox hats as anything Dr. Charles and the ad wizards on Yawkey have done. My God, were they out last night... and DKM shows always crack me up for the sheer number of people who violate the "Don't Wear a Shirt From the Last Tour" rule...damn close to an unofficial world record. (Kudos to Declan from reminding me of that rule...)(Incidentally, another UWR was set last night by Big D and The Kids Table for dropping the most f-bombs in a non-rap song. And not so incidentally, how have I never heard those guys? They've been around for like 10 years, and that was my first time hearing slash seeing them? Wha happened? They were freaking great..."LAX" blew me away....As I said last night, it was like Jay from the Suicide Machines fronting the Bosstones (come back, come back) with lyrics by a really pissed off Reel Big Fish.)Back to the Murphys though- here's the problem. They've gotten bigger, which isn't a problem unto itself, but Ken Casey, my God man, what's his deal? You aren't The Pogues, you never were The Pogues, and you never will be The Pogues. What you were was a really freaking awesome band whose simple arrangements, heartfelt lyrics, fist pumps, oi oi's, energy, passion and cheap t-shirts made a believer out of this cynical kid. I've seen them all over the place more times than I can remember, and every album subsequent to "DOD" has left me scratching my head a little, but still excited for the live show. No more, alas, no more. It was slick, overproduced, manipulative and predictable. I don't care if they sell a kajillion-bajillion records, or if every kid at the mall has their shirt on- that's not how I gauge a sell-out. But this band feels like a sell-out, and the worst part for them is that the return on their investment is marginal- they'll never be huge. Kudos for the charity stuff (the Sgt. Farrar cd, the Chickenman stuff) but as Jerewould say about the rest of the package, "Terrible job, Murphys." So where does that leave me? Guess I'll listen to the new DKM, which sounds a lot like the old DKM, but goes by another name- The Street Dogs.Ken, it would do you a lot of good to remember when you were a bass player for Mike McColgan, not the lead singer for the Dropkick Murphys. Terrible job, Ken.

New Day Rising

After getting some sleep and thinking about it, I've come to the following conclusion: last night's game sucked. Seeing how that's the only one of the series I can watch in its entirety, it really sucked. God bless the good people at Victory Brewing Co. for making that game a (tasty hop-laden) smidge easier to watch. Time now to think positively and try to salvage a split. If we can leave MFNY still up 1/2 a game I'll be happy.

So I understand there's this bar in NYC called Professor Thom's. And lots of Red Sox fans go there to watch the games. I wish there was a bar like that in DC. There's only really one quasi Sox bar that I know of and that's The Flying Scotsman, which kind of sucks. Bad location, lousy room set up, etc. None of the really good pubs here even have Extra Innings or anything; well Mackey's does, or at least they used to, but ever since Game 7 '03 that's been sort of off limits to me. Don't think they want to see me walking through those doors anytime soon. Buncha jerks...I guess i'll just have to open the pub I've been talking about forever, Bitter Matty's. One of these days, it's gonna happen.

And we signed our lease for the new apartment. Part of me can't believe we're moving out of the city to Alexandria, and part of me can't wait (as the construction project across the street slowly drives me insane). It'll be great for The Kid- parks close by, a pool, more kids to play with. And it'll be great for us, too- we definitely need more space that what we have now. But I'm gonna miss being able to walk everywhere. There's something to be said for having everything you love to do practically at your doorstep. There's also something to be said for having over 1,000 sq feet, 2 br, 2ba, a balcony, a fireplace and underground, assigned parking for not much more than we pay now for our little tenement. I don't know why, but I still don't feel like a grown up, even though I have to make grown up decisions every day. It's really an amazing thing to step back and watch yourself learn how to be less selfish. Some days you feel like you are giving individually numbered, signed pieces of yourself away; then you seen what you have received in return, and you feel more whole than ever. But enough with that crap...go Schill, Go Sox and go to Hell Jaret Wright.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Depressing

Three things struck me tonight:

1. Considering our payroll, how in the hell can we keep giving up outs w/ Alex Cora/Alex Gonzalez, and how in the hell is our pitching staff in the predicament its in? Coming out of spring training we had 6 starters and a half-decent pen. Now? Schilling, Beckett (deplorable the last two starts), Clement is retarded, Wake is up and down, and Wells is fatter and more a former Yankee rather than a current Red Sock every day. God bless Dave Pauley- that kid pitched his ass off. Oh, and Bronson Arroyo is a Cy Young contender. In the National League. Seanez, Tavarez, now Foulke's banged up and who wants to take the Riske? TJ, Theo. You were never the wiz kid to me, and this bullpen is looking more and more like 2003 every day.

2. Bobby Mercer is retarded. Like seriously helmet wearing, rubber sheet wetting, short bus riding, Wal-Mart working retarded. Painful. I'd pay $500 for MLB.tv just to get my choice of announcers.

3. We are a mediocre team. I said the other day, it was time to make a move. We've been killing the O's and the Rays, and so-so against everyone else. The Yanks are as banged up as they're gonna be, and we're losing ground. Oh, Schill, please deliver us from Evil. Because if we don't win tomorrow, 3.5 is looking like a number we're gonna see in Friday morning's paper.

Sorry to be so down, but this game hurt. And for the sake of fairness, nice catch, Melky. You made me curse in front of my daughter, but nice catch. Now go drown in the Hudson.

Terry Gump

I'm a frickin' evil genius. Seanez is a fucking hoser. 2-0 count right out of the bullpen, gets a gift strike 2 call and we all knew ball 4 was coming. Pauley could've done that. God I hate Francona.

There. I said it.

Terry Francona is a complete and total idiot. I know it's not a popular opinion, but anything we've won, we've won in spite of him. He is a complete ass-retard, and taking out Pauley to bring in "Kerosene" Rudy Seanez is going to back fire big time. Mark my words. Goddamn Francoma.

Naps and dinner and doom and gloom...

I should be taking a nap. The Kid is napping, I should be, too. It would certainly be more productive than rehashing and rereading all the Globe articles, and everyone's sad little blogs this morning. But, I'm sure like everyone else, I am completely powerless against the abusive father that is the Globe sports section on days such as these. Daddy Globe (isn't that what the CHB calls it?) is unkind today, telling its tall tales of misery and spitting out get-the-women-and-children-inside-numbers such as "1 1/3." So I started looking at prices for Spamalot tix. And for old colored 7" Bosstones singles on ebay...afterall, Father's Day is coming, and "The Impression That I Get" on green vinyl would look pretty sweet next to the others in their red and plaid glory.

Digressing even further, I've been searching epicurious for dinner recipes. So hard to cook for The Wife these days, as our second impending miracle is making itself known through repetitive burping and culinary indecisiveness. Is it impractical (or irresponsible) to spend 2-3 hours simmering an authentic Bolognese sauce whilst the young'n scampers under foot? I guess there's only one way to find out.

All of which means a trip to Whole Foods, which features the ancillary benefit of passing Caribou Coffe, which features the ancillary benefit of finally waking my tired ass up after passing the time last night post work at the Channel. And The Kid begins to stir. Should've taken that nap.

Monday, June 05, 2006

Where's Richard Burton When You Need Him? *

Well, not such the auspicious beginning for SBF...I will take full responsibility for disturbing the blogging cosmos as they pertain to the fortunes of our local nine.

I just saw bits and pieces as I wandered the restaurant tonight, stealing looks at the bar TV; fortunately I'd eaten prior to first pitch, so no worries about Beckett related gastro-intestinal difficulties. One of my bartenders is the biggest fake johnny come lately Yankees fan (or as she calls them, with her accent, "The Yunks"), so she was a real pain in the ass all night. Until I reminded her of our 12-pack bet on the '04 ALCS. Those Newcastles I bought her after Game 3 sure tasted good when I drank them after game 7...

So, now we have to count on David (Jane) Pauley to pull through on the morrow at La Stade de Yunks...I'll make sure to eat early tomorrow as well. Not that I'm nervous or anything. I'll just be hungry sooner rather than later. You know, just by coincidence.

On an unrelated note, I found myself on Jere's links list right under Red Sox Bat Girl which is cool because that girl is from Maine and she has the world's second cutest daughter (behind mine, of course). And she frequently features a Wednesday IPOD game; which I can't play because I don't have an IPOD. But whatever.

So, tell your friends about SBF, check it out...you can get to know me, meet my family and friends, maybe laugh a little...maybe yell a little, maybe learn a little...

* You'd really impress me if you get the reference for the title of this entry. Even if it is a play on a misspelling.

Ow! Don't quit it...

Well, this is unfortunate...

At what point are the Sox going to decide to take control of the East? That is the question for the week. The Stanks are in big trouble; or at least they should be, if we knew how NOT to take our foot off their neck. So many injuries, such lousy pitching, such awful karma...there is no reason that we shouldn't be 5 in front. It was 91 degrees here last Thursday. That sort of weather tells me it's time to start making a move...

Oh, and thanks ESPN and your family of networks for this cute little coincidence of scheduling:

Monday ESPN: Sox v. Yanks ME: work
Tuesday ESPN: some crap ME: no work
Wednesday ESPN: Sox v. Yanks ME: work
Thursday ESPN: Sox v. Yanks ME: work

So in the words of Cam Neely, or maybe Wayne Campbell, "Thanks a pantload, Chet/ESPN...really, thanks a lot*..."


*Am I the only one that remembers that Cam Neely commercial? Long live number 8...

Jere Made Me Do It...

If Jere's blog wasn't such a bastion of elevated thought and petty Yankee jabs, I wouldn't have to throw the rest of my life away writing this blog, just so I could leave some nonsensical comment there. But, at least my wife will be happy I'm writing something. Even if most of it is about the Red Sox. And bands, that to her, all sound the same. Which, by the way they don't...