Monday, January 22, 2007

So Bored

After about eight months of doing this blog, I've grown really bored with the medium. Now that football season is over, I just don't have the will to write daily updates on what's not going on with New England sports...this whole thing has grown stale and uninteresting to me. Hope you all liked it...see y'around...

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Superstition Redux


My wife decided to postpone the family portraits till next Sunday...ostensibly, she says, because she doesn't feel well and my daughter is cranky, and all my good shirts need to go to the cleaner...honestly, though, even if she does bleed black and gold Steelers blood, I think deep down she wants the Patriots to know, so I'll be happy. And that's pretty cool. So I shall remain stubbly and Brady-clad, and it's all right for now...not that I believe in such things...

I'm Not Superstitious...Am I?

All I'm saying is that last week, I shaved on Monday, then didn't for the rest of the week until this past Monday; and last Sunday I put on my Pats jersey as soon as I got dressed and kept it on all day. And this week we're having family pics with the kids taken at 2:30, and I have to shave, and obviously can't wear the ol' home Brady action all day. And this concerns me a little bit. A lot actually. It concerns me that I'm actually thinking about it, not that the "rules" will be broken.

I used to be really superstitious about sports. Examples: during the '03 Sox run, I could only drink Budweiser, preferably cans. When I'd go downstairs from our old apartment to smoke, I'd have to hold my cigs, lighter and keys just so on the return elevator trip to our place. I had to have the top and bottom buttons of my jersey open (this was before the horror of Millar-ALCS-Game 2-popout-jersey-button-tearing-meltdown of '04). My wife showed up at a bar I was at during game 4 of the Oakland series in '03 wearing a longsleeve Boston shirt I had and I nearly freaked out on her for wearing that without permission and chancing the fates. I'm famous for switching caps during a game. For turning them around sideways or backwards, but never inside out. With two strikes, 3-2 counts, or third downs, I never sit. I stand, or hop, or crouch. I just can't sit. After the Pats first two Super Bowls, I randomly ended up, with different people each time, at the same DC strip club after the games. When that didn't happen after SB39, I worried for a second if time would move backwards and let the Eagles win to punish me for disturbing the rhythm of life. I still blame myself for the '03 game 7 debacle because we returned to the same bar in which I watched the Sox lose games 1 & 2 of the Oakland series, just because the bartenders at that bar were Yankees fans and I wanted to be there to see their sad faces after game 7. Oh, the hubris of youth!

None of this is any more or less ridiculous than anyone else's little quirks, but make no mistake, it's all ridiculous. The older I've gotten, the less I worry about such things. More often than not now, I just try to help others maintain their little routines. It's too much effort to remember always to take two sips of beer everytime the Pats get a first down. At some point it goes from "helping your team win" to having a named, treatable, medical condition, and I simply don't have the energy for it anymore. Sure I still turn my cap around, and I still pace, but those are just nervous tics, not outright talismans.

Today, I'll make sure to call my friend Kim and invite her over to watch the game. And like always, she'll say, "NO, you know me, I always watch playoff games at home, it's been working so far!" And she means since 2001. She's never come over to watch a game. But I think we both take a little comfort in the routine of me asking her. And we'll send a ton of texts during the game, but never actually speak. Last week, my wife said, "Why don't you just call her and talk to her?" And I said, "I can't...Kim doesn't like to talk during the game..." And my wife gave me that look, that one that says, "You guys are all retarded." And maybe she's right. But I'm not as bad as I used to be. Now, Kim will probably make her dog sit on the couch next to her the WHOLE game, and that's cool. She takes comfort and luck in that. I take comfort in the fact that tomorrow, if I'm reading all about Manning's big day, it won't be because I shaved today. But I really, really hope we win, because you know I'd at least wonder...

Finally, Pats 31, Colts 20. And I didn't just jinx us, either, so all of you shut up...

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Is Your Dog Owned by a Huge Nerd?

Terrorists- is this why you hate America?

Go Fuck Yourself San Diego

I know Kristen linked to this in her great post about the Pats game, but I wanted to include it on my site so I could easily watch it and laugh at Merriman and the classy Chargers anytime I want...Yeah!!! We're getting punched in the mouth!!! File this video under delusion and irony...more to come on the Colts game later in the week.

Monday, January 15, 2007

Tick, Tick.....Tick

If you're a Pats fan, this is already the l...o...n...g...e...s...t week ever...
Will 6:30 on Sunday ever get here?

Sunday, January 14, 2007

MVP means...

Most Valuable Pussy.

In case you missed the end of the game because you're a Pats fan and you were jumping around hysterically, then you missed a very upset Ladainian Tomlinson getting into a scrum with some Pats players. Apparently, some of the Pats players did the Shawne Merriman "Lights Out" dance at midfield after the final second ticked off, and LT took that as a disrespectful move he just couldn't watch (according to his post-game presser) and refused to shake hands, was cornered by some Pats players and left the field whining like a little bitch. In his press conference, he said, "Those guys showed no class..."

Seriously, he's rising up in defense of a guy, Merriman, who was suspended four games for violating the league's steroid policy. The guy who is the face of the Chargers, and in some ways, of the new, young NFL. Who didn't appeal his steroid suspension. That guy. Just so we all know who we're talking about here. The steroids guy, who had "Lights Out" shaved into the side of his head. That's the guy that LT, supposedly one of the classiest guys in the league, is defending. Just so we know where everyone's moral compass is set...(Those of you who read SBF a lot know where this is going, right?)

Shut the fuck up, LT.
Take your 31 touchdowns, and your 1,800 yards and shove them up you prissy little ass. Take your RoidBoy Shawne, and your other 99 Pro Bowlers and enjoy your trip to Hawaii. We'll let you know how Miami is. You know, where they're playing the Super Bowl. Oh, and don't clear any more space on your mantle; you've already won your last trophy this year.

We're Not Worthy

Tom Brady,
You're my hero.
I'm sorry I doubted you for three quarters.
(If Kim could blog, she'd apologize, too.)
Our bad.
I promise we'll believe next week.
Thanks for a nice Sunday.
your biggest fan,

Sunday, January 07, 2007

Which of course in German means a whale's vagina...

I'll say it one last time this year...

J-E-T-S Suck! Suck! Suck!

You stay sucky San we come!

Welcome to the Jungle, Baby



Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Right...I guess I did do that...

Remember a couple months ago when I said I had a major announcement, then never announced anything major? Remember when I laughed it off and said, "It's not like I quit the restaurant to go sell Italian wine or anything..."

I forgot to tell you guys...I totally did that.

Yeah, I gave notice to Ceiba the first week of October, planned to talk about it here, then my GM at the restaurant wanted to keep things quiet as long as possible. I didn't say anything on here because I know that some of my former employees read this occasionally. So, anyway, we finally broke the news at work around December 18, but somehow I forgot to put a post up about it.

Well, today was my first official day with my new company, Grappoli Imports. A friend of ours is the co-owner, and they wanted me to take my interest in and knowledge of wine to help them build what is still a pretty young company. So I'm a sales guy now. Selling a broad portfolio of 99% Italian wines. And I have no idea what I'm doing. Well, ok, I sort of do, but it's all pretty new to me. I've worked on the purchasing end for restaurants before, but never on the wholesale end. I expect I'll grow into it slowly, but the hours are much more conducive to raising a family, as it's mostly daytime with most evenings and weekends off. So that's one major plus. Initially, it's probably a lateral move, at best, financially, but the potential is really high if I bust my ass to develop new accounts. I was really surprised at how many places where I know someone we're not in yet, so in addition to the 40 or so accounts I'm sort of poaching, I've got a pretty extensive list of places where I've at least got a friendly "in."

So anyway, if any of you have come looking for me at the restaurant in the last couple days, well, sorry. New Year's Eve was my last night...I got to eat dinner with my wife tonight, at a normal time, help put my daughter to bed, get my son to sleep, and watch "Top Chef" not on rerun. Feels very strange, all of it. Almost like a day job. This could be interesting...