SAT

Part I: Analogies

Flintstone's Car : Fred's Two Feet ::

(a) Beckett : fastball

(b) Posada : piece of cheese

(c) Red Sox offense : Roger Clemens

(d) Babe Ruth : 6" hoagie

(e) bat : ball

The correct answer would of course be (c). Fred's Two Feet would ultimately stop the Flintstone's car as Roger Clemens halted the Sox offense last night. I suppose you could make the argument that a piece of cheese might very well stop Posada, being the rat that he is, and that a hoagie surely would halt the Babe's portly ass, but the most correct answer would be (c). There, now wasn't that fun and educational at the same time?

I wrote yesterday about renewed hatred. I write today about a rampant hatred that's alive and well...kicking and screaming...seething and spitting. It's back, folks. For all of you who have been sitting back in the old recliner all season, mouth agape as you hum along in lala land with this feeling of comfort, the fear is back. Last night's win was an official momentum shift, if not a swing. Granted a Sox victory this evening will cancel it out but I'm not confident in Schilling. I'm also not too fond of facing Wang.

Isn't this better though? Having laid mention of the this thought before, I won't go too deeply into it but this is what Septembers are made for. Summer is coming to an end, school is back in session and the AL East race is tightening up. The smell of football is starting to tickle the nosehairs but the stench of sausages, booze and October dominate the late summer air. We live for this part of the year here in Boston and we thrive on the taste of the postseason. Even though it would take a collapse of epic proportions to claim the playoff life of the Sox, it could happen. Thankfully, I don't think there's anyway that our pitching staff is conducive to that sort of occurrence so let's bury that whim right here and now. There will be playoff baseball in Boston. The only question is, will it involve that stripey whale from the Bronx?

There is a lot to think about going into this home stretch for Boston. As of yesterday, we're staring at a potentially serious injury to Manny's oblique which, as one can surmise, is as devastating an injury as any hitter can have. Twisting and turning your torso unfortunately cannot be avoided when swinging the lumber. So that is an intriguing and unpropitious situation at this juncture. There's also this little issue of the clutch hitting and comebackability...if you will. While the Sox offense would appear to be built to score a lot of runs, they just haven't been doing it with regularity. The bright side of this shows Ortiz and Ramirez being much more productive since August began, but of course Manny can't keep that up if he's not playing. It is not, however, out of the realm of possibility to think that Papi could carry the offense in his shoulders is he has to. He's done it before (see 2004).

Big sports night tonight: Schilling v. Wang, Pats final preseason game before the opener against the J-E-T-S and the college football season opens with the nation's #2-ranked team (LSU) taking on Mississippi State. So get that grill fired up, crack a Miller Chill and take it all in. Think of me as you sip that chelada-style beer, as I'll be painting, hauling boxes and painting. I'll also be painting.

Still, I...

After watching last night's Sox-Yankees game, one thing was clear to me: even with a fairly soft cushion in the division...and the great team we send out there every night...and the decrepit state of most of the Yankee rotation...I still hate the Yankees. I had thoughts that it may have dissipated, but no. I thought maybe I pitied them to some slight degree, but no. I hate them. They suck.


I should stop using that phrase...they don't suck, per se. Mariano looks great, Joba Chamberlain scares the bejesus out of me and on any given day, they have the best offense in the game. Before leaving work yesterday, I approached one of the cookie-cutter, Baby-Boomer Sox fans in my office and told him my prediction for this series: the number of appearances Joba makes will be directly proportional to the number of games the Yankees win. So far, I'm right.

Here's a few things that suck a whole lot more than the New York Yankees: people that stand in front of the entrance to the T as they look for their train pass. You couldn't have done that thirty seconds ago? Or perhaps just off to the side so other people can get through...really not cool and in fact, it sucks. Also sucking today is my decision to eat half a sandwich at 9:20am. My stomach was already out of whack and that surely didn't help. Let's see, let's see...I know there's more, but now I can't get the thought of that insipid guy at the T stop, digging through his wallet while a line formed behind him. What an asshole. Honestly, you take the T everyday, yet you don't bother to take out your pass until it's the last possible second, therefore lending yourself to the possibility of being a major annoyance if you can't locate it right away. Just who do you think you are?

On another front entirely...no matter how much time you think you have, or how much manpower you've enlisted, or how hard you work...moving still sucks. And I'm not even moving. It has more to do with transforming a dungeon into an acceptable dwelling, and La and I are almost there, but still. It's a very stressful event and the projects you encounter during a move tend to have a bit of a domino effect. I know it will be rewarding once we're all finished, however. On the brighter side of this stress, I can safely say that I am becoming quite the interior painter. My handiness with a 2" latex brush and 3/8" nap roller has grown tenfold over the last month or so, and I have this apartment (and a house in Rye Brook, NY) to thank for that. Alas, I am my father's son and he happens to be a bit of a paint master, so I must get it from him. I did not, however, inherit my mother's uncanny ability to edge a ceiling. If I don't tape off the ceiling, it looks like a blind man took to the ladder and attempted to do the job.

I read in the news this morning that the late Leona Helmsley has left $12 million in her will for her beloved dog. Lucky dog, huh? When asked what he planned on doing with the money, the Maltese named Trouble hadn't decided yet. But he did seem to fancy chewing it, swallowing it and puking it up a few hours later. It's unclear as to whether or not the money would still hold its value if it were covered in canine bile. The pieces of money that appear in his excrement lose their value but this begs me to point out that while money doesn't grow on trees, it may in fact show up in a pile of dog shit once in a while.

Despicable

It was an act of the utmost in unsportsmanlike character; an act that took aim at embarrassing the opposing team's coaching staff, players and fans. I have to assume that there will be some bad blood on the other end of something that happened last night in Major League Baseball and the next meeting between these two subjected teams should be very interesting and entertaining.

Last night in Motown, the Detroit Tigers went for a two-point conversion not once, but twice in a lopsided pasting of the New York Yankees. Call it piling on, calling it padding stats, call it what you will...this was purely uncalled for and humiliating and there's just no place for it in sports.

16-0. Not 14-0, because that just wasn't enough of a cushion to satisfy Jim Leyland's club last night. I cannot determine the motives behind adding insult to injury against a team that clearly had no resolve or resiliency last night, but my heart goes out to Mike Mussina and the rest of that beleaguered Yankee pitching staff who couldn't seem to gut out a decent pitch.

The fines and/or suspensions that may or may not be handed out for this senseless behavior have yet to be stated and Commissioner Selig was unavailable for comment this morning. One can only hope that justice is served once all is said and done.

Front and Center

Three months ago, I cringed at the sound of Coco Crisp's name; whether from the announcer at Fenway, the SportsCenter anchors or my own voice in my head, reading an article in the Globe. Unfairly, I usually get down on players that are mired in slumps, whether it's verbal disgust or mental. It's hard to remember that for every slump, there's usually a hot streak on the other side of it, days, weeks or months down the line.

It's not Coco's offensive surges that have put me in an alternate state of mind as of late. The glove he wields in center field, night in and night out, far outshine any offensive output he could ever have from the 7,8 or 9 hole.

It's nice to see Coco on webgems, or on the SportsCenter top 10 plays of the night for some 9.5-in-difficulty catch he pulled in. But the affect it has on a team as a whole must be put into perspective over the accolades received. Coco may not be the catalyst in our offense but a run-saving play carries the same weight as a run scoring single on many levels, and in some cases it carries more weight. How many nights may or may not have been shortened for a Sox pitcher had Coco not come up with miraculous grab to end an inning or prevent further damage? I look at a Curt Schilling, who, at over 40 years old, doesn't have a ton of starts left in him. If a play in center or at any position saves him 5, 10, 15 pitches in his outing, it's huge. It's huge for his arm, for his ERA and most importantly, for his psyche. With many pitchers, poor performances get inside their heads and can cause a domino effect of bad pitching. When the guys who play behind them make great plays to save runs, those plays could very well serve as disaster aversion. But you don't see that in a stat line. When a guy like Jon Lester, who stands to be negatively effected in every start he makes at this point, gets a break from a great play in the field, it does wonders for his confidence. Of course these occurrences aren't going to be very common but that's what makes them so valuable. We will never know the woulda-coulda of these situations, but I have to imagine that they're entrenched in negativity. Volatile situations that aren't averted turn out terribly; hence volatile.

Coco might be looking at his first Gold Glove in center if he wasn't up against guys like Ichiro and Gary Mathews Jr. His arm isn't the strongest out there and that works against him in that race. However, he might be having the best year in center that a Sox player has had ever, and that's saying a lot. He has the speed, the grace, the athleticism and the will to make every catch known to that position. But his best trait might very well be that he does it quietly.

A long-awaited return...

...for all Yankee fans.

I knew eventually they'd come out of the woodwork following their long, winter naps...and/or summer snoozes. They've watched from the depths of their rat holes as the Yankees have stumbled, scraped and clawed their way through this season, falling as far back as 14 games way back when. Where were they then? In their holes, of course, savoring pieces of cheese from years back...26 pieces to be exact. A fresh piece of cheese seemed highly improbable in May, June and most of July but now, all rational thought says that the remaining 6 games between the Sox and Yanks will define either season by crowning an AL East champ and probably mold the AL representative in the 2007 Fall Classic.

I got a text from Ponch this weekend, merely stating "the Yankees are looking good". It was enough to dig just under the surface of my skin and begin to nest and I know that eventually, it will be a full grown virus that haunts me to no end. Regardless of the outcome of the season for the once impenetrable giant that is the Red Sox, a dogfight in April will test a fan's will and faith.

Also testing my will and faith is a one Eric Gagne. I'd rather have him go up there and walk the bases loaded rather than continually groove fastballs and curveballs over the fat part of the plate. I don't doubt that he's in a mental world of hurt right now, but every run that crosses that plate is one more run that Paps wouldn't have given up and it makes me wonder...why in the hell would you screw with a good thing when you're barely in the face of adversity? Why was there this pressing need to upgrade the best bullpen in the majors? If we were simply trying to keep Gagne from the Yankees, I guess I can see some justification but last I checked they have some guy named Chamberlain that is lights out. They didn't need Eric Gagne and they still don't. No team has a spot for a guy that spends his time on his knees, blowing important games like he possessed. He's been good when he's out there and the Sox are behind but he's not the same pitcher in clutch situations. He looks frazzled and he looks like he's aiming his pitches, afraid to make a mistake. Unfortunately for him, aiming leads to mistakes and hard-hit balls and ultimately losses. Right the ship, Gagne. Perhaps he should ditch the number 83...

We'll see what happens over the next several weeks but one thing I can promise you is that as long as the lead in the AL East remains in the balance, Yankee fans will be resurfacing regularly, boasting of 10 straight Division Championships and blah blah blah. When they start barking at you, simply throw your arms to the side with your palms up and ask where they've been. What would a late-August/early-September be without a race to the pennant?

The Slipcover

The sofa slipcover is merely an expression of guilt to your guests that, hey, a few weeks back I had a buddy sleep over and he vomited, urinated and defecated all over that couch.

Magic Number

3 might very well be the magic number around Boston over the next 9 months or so. Let me preface this entry by saying that this is simple but pure speculation and can only be filed under: "Hey, it could happen".



There is a very real opportunity that exists out there for three out of the four Boston professional sports teams. If you're halfway intelligible, you've already eliminated the Bruins from this group. The leftovers are the Celtics, the Patriots and the Red Sox and there is a very distinct possibility that all three could be crowned champions of their respective worlds come Fall, Winter and Spring. Three champions in one overly deserving city seems like the loftiest of dreams, but maybe...just maybe it's not.



We're nearing the 3/4 mark of the major league baseball season and here they sit, 6 games up on the Yankees in the East and staring an AL East championship in the face. I was a young lad the last time that happened and nothing would make me happier than to see the Sox finish the job they have started this season.



They have three starting pitchers that should help them get there, as well as three nasty relievers that will all play a hulking role in the charge for the pennant. Schilling, Dice and Beckett pose a healthy problem for most any team in major league baseball in a playoff series, but they all have to be special up until and through that time in order for this thing to materialize. I'm concerned about Schilling, and who isn't? I don't doubt his competitveness, nor do I doubt his knowledge of the game and presence in the dugout. But he's aging rapidly and his strength is ever depleting. We need him to be an ace, point blank. Dice-K will seemingly always give the Sox a chance to win at the very least, and we're staring at a potential Cy Young award winner in Beckett. Piece in Wake and Lester and our rotation is intact and ready for battle.

I started this post on Friday. It's now Monday, and those 'three nasty relievers' that I mentioned so eloquently in the prior paragraphs have now blown two straight games to the less-then-mediocre O's. Here's my problem with yesterday's game: Oki walks the first batter of the inning and Tito takes him out of the game for Gagne. Maybe he's trying to instill confidence in the sloppy slinger, I don't know. But Oki has been lights out in the eighth inning all season and he's proven that a baserunner here and there rarely hurts him because he's absolutely masterful at getting out of self-inflicted jams. Regardless, Gagne comes in and promptly grooves a fastball right down home run lane to Miguel Tejada who quickly deposited the offering into the right-center bleachers. 2 days, 2 blown saves for Gagne. ERA: 2 touchdowns and field goal. AL East lead: 4 games. Yankee bats: smoldering. Anxiety level: heightened.

Time to make myself feel better. Let's look at team #2 in this 3-team picture: the Patriots. Odds on favorites to win the Superbowl, the best quarterback in the league, a much improved defense and possibly the best coach ever. They were on the precipice last season and suddenly imploded over the course of 24 agonizing minutes in Indy (see my post from back in January to relive it), so one can only imagine that with a vastly improved team, results should improve. I can see one team bettering the Pats this season, and they are the Chargers. I, for one, cannot wait until they visit Foxborough on September 16th. There's bad blood and some dormant tempers that once flared, so that promises to be a great one. However, San Diego should be one of the best teams in the league yet again this year. It should be interesting.

The final team to consider here is the Celtics, who kept busy in the past week and signed G Eddie House and F Scot Pollard to add some much needed depth to a depleted bench. Granted, neither will do much in the way of exciting the fans, but it's depth nonetheless. Honestly, it's a really strange feeling to be confident and excited going into a Celtics' season. For one, I don't remember the last time it felt this way and for another, pride hasn't existed around the Garden since...well, you know when. Seriously, we have the Truth and the Big Ticket and they're flanked by one of the top 5 shooters in the game in Ray Allen. There's something that will help you sleep at night.

I kind of hope this doesn't happen; that is, this three-team championship. It might be way too much to handle over the stretch of merely 7 or 8 months. And the only way to go from there is down, so where's the fun in that?

I'm kidding. It would be awesome.

Two in Two

Chuck Woolery has always been my favorite game show host..."we'll be back in two and two." Of course I am referencing the fact that this will be my second post in two days, a feat I haven't accomplished in a fortnight or so. As I sit here in my new orangy/mauve cubicle, I pat myself on the back for reconnecting with my blog. Onward...

Being back in the city full time, I am realizing how hard it is to not be the guy who brings his lunch every day. I have absolutely no idea where to eat when I venture out to revitalize. It's not that I can't find places; quite the contrary my friends. I can't decide on a place to eat because there are literally a thousand places to eat within a square 1/4 mile. I don't understand how all these little sandwich shops survive with all the competition. I suppose that for every Al's State Street Deli, there's a thousand Al's customers who are loyal and keep coming back. So if every deli and sandwich shop has a bit of a following, it's probably enough to get by in a big city like Boston. The problem is, they really are pretty much all the same.

I've had three versions of the turkey sandwich this week. The first from Al's, the second from Boston Kebob house and today came from Taste of the Town. I don't know which one was better; who am I to say? They were all tasty in their own turkey-like ways, but none was superior to the next. I will say, however, that there's no match for a baguette when it comes to breads of choice. The wrap, the wheat bun, the syrian...the baguette is simply the best. You could put a spoonful of vomit on there with a dash of manure and it would still be relatively good on a warm french baguette.

Ok, I can't write anymore because I have too much to do here. Amazing, huh? Well in case any of the faithful are wondering, this job is great so far. I'm really enjoying it...I just wish I could find an above-average turkey grinder somewhere. Suggestions welcome, please.

Many Happy Returns

Things have been a bit of a whirlwind lately, thus I have been absent from the blogworld. But this is my short-awaited return, in all its grandeur.

I regret to report that this must be a short re-entry, as my morning is jam-packed with work stuff...hey, when's the last time I uttered words with kind of message? I can't even remember. Anyway...the Sox are now a mere 5 games up on the Yankees. Props to the Jays for beaning A-Rod last night, but the least they could have done was turn it into an all out melee, complete with old men being tossed to the ground and a few cleat/face collisions. No such luck, and the pinstriped parade continued on its merry way to another victory. The good thing is that we still have 6 meetings with the Bombers before the end of September. I'm confident in head-to-head battle; our pitching is much better, so it should be able to cool their red-hot bats and give our offense enough of a window to get to the less-than-stellar Yankee bullpen.

But their offense is scary good right now. You look at the heart of that lineup and it's very difficult to go through it and say, "we get a break in this part here..." There are no breaks. And most of them are just on fire, allowing the Yanks to reel off win after win. But come on folks, we all knew this was coming and it's hardly a shock that here we are in early August, biting our nails and watching our blood pressures rise with fervor. But this is how it's meant to be...how it should be. What would August and September be without a pennant race in the AL East? Phone calls to my mother wouldn't be the same without the occasional yet imminent "well, your father is about to go ballistic here..." The next one of those shant be far off.

To Be Continued...