To be a barracuda in the guppy pond

Steve:
The deal is done. Three more for Theo.

 

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Doug:
Thank Christ. Now I can focus all my psychic energy on effahts to avoid the flu.

 

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Steve:
So at the bottom of the Snow piece on Theo's extension, he tosses in this bit about Manny wanting to get to Anaheim because "Ramirez remarked that no one bothered him during a visit to a local mall." And I'm like what the fuck.

 

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Doug:
Holy shit, you're kidding me? That's what this "trade me talk "all comes down to?

 

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Steve:
What the frig do you think Manny goes to the Mall for? Does he all of a sudden get a craving for Auntie Anne's Pretzels or something?

 

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Doug:
Yeah, Manny, you don't need to go to the Discovery Store to play with the remote control toys for free. You can afford to, you know, buy the whole fucking store.

 

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Steve:
Let's see Manny wants a trade so he can go to the mall without being bothered, Wells wants a trade so he can go to bars without being bothered, Theo needs to be among the highest paid GM's partly to compensate for the nuisance of being a celebrity in Boston … Am I sensing a pattern here?

 

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Doug:
Heh. You'd think grown men would have biggah balls than Lindsay Lohan when it comes to dealing with their celebrity status, but I guess not.

 

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Steve:
What's with the celebrity obsession to lead a so-called "normal life"?

 

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Doug:
No kidding. Listen up Manny, Wells, Lindsay Lohan, Cameron Diaz, et cetera, as someone who leads a normal life I'm telling you it's way the fuck overrated.

 

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A year later and every bit as sweet

It was a year ago …

In a group of Soxaholix, a woman speaks:
I just pissed myself.

 

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And although this season didn't end as we'd have liked, let's consider the words of Jorge Luis Borges, "To fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible god." …

Susan:
Togethah forevah! Happy Anniversary.

 

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Larry, you're doing a heck of a job

Bill:
I'm just not friggin believing this. One year aftah the most gratifying moment in my Red Sox fan life, yet here I am feeling so miserable?

 

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Doug:
I'm totally blind sided by this Theo vs Lucchino soap opera, palpitation exposed, thready and pushed …

 

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Bill:
All my life I've seen playahs come and go and while I may have had triste moments in their departure, I've nevah had thoughts of, you know, that's it, I'm done, piss on the Red Sox …

 

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Doug:
Well, as they say, "Anyone is replaceable."

 

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Bill:
Yeah, but who would you rathah replace the guy who came up with the craptastic idea to sell Red Sox Nation I.D. cahds and World Series sod or the guy who got Curt Schilling and went on to assemble the greatest Red Sox club of all time?

 

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Doug:
True, and last time I checked, guys like Rob Neyer weren't saying, "There's bright and then there's bright" about Larry-san.

 

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Bill:
No way, instead we've got Steinbrennah, of all friggin' people George Steinbrennah saying we'll rue the effin' day Lucchino was hired.

 

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Doug:
Some anniversary, eh?

 

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Stale as it ever was

A lack of items of interest related to the Red Sox has left The Soxaholix cranky and irritable as they go through withdrawal …

Bill:
Man, if I'm a Houston fan, I'd be ready to light myself on fiah right now.

 

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Mike:
Are you kidding me? As I've said before, nobody lights themselves on fiah anymore. Self-immolation went out of style yeahs ago.

 

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Bill:
Ah, Christ, you're so right. Original courage is so dead these days.

 

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Mike:
Absolutely. Look at Cindy Sheehan. Does she opt for the human torch thingy? No effin way. It's all "I'll tie myself to the White House and, you know, get arrested. W00T!" Hell right, that'll teach "da Man."

 

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Bill:
Can't even get a good ol' hungah strike these days.

 

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Mike:
Ours is a culchah gone soft, lightweights one and all.

 

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Bill:
In ten million places in America it is the same — stale lives propped against each other and no place to go.

 

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Mike:
Average people eating average food at average prices manifesting average civil protest in hopes of being seen on average TV news by millions of other average Americans who sit in their average living rooms waiting for Christmas or Labah Day or Sunday or something.

 

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Charity begins at home (for instance to remodel the home)

Mike:
Is it me or is this offseason moving at a glacial pace?

 

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Susan/Circle:
I'm dying ovah heah. You know it's not even officially the offseason yet, and I'm already reduced to paying $14.95 for the MLB Bulge Report just so I have something to occupy myself with.

 

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Mike:
You know what they say, "The Devil will find work for idle hands to do."

 

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Susan/Circle:
The Devil's a friggin' pussy. You evah see that old movie Rosemary's Baby? Of all the hot bitches in the world "da Beast" goes for that mousy, mealy, milquetoast Mia Farrow? Gimme a break.

 

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Mike:
No kidding. Even when the Devil possesses someone the best he can do is a frigid Kraut wallflowah?

 

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Susan/Circle:
Seriously, what's the fucking point in being Lucifer, Lord of the Dark World, if you can't scare up some A-List poon?

 

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Mike:
Speaking of possession, Manny's being called in front of the media inquisition yet again, this time the accusation is he's just too damn niggardly.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Yeah, meanwhile in the Grand Nut state, a multimillionaire Senatah wins $850K in the Powahball lottery and says he's keeping every penny to remodel his house and no one bats an eyelash.

 

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Mike:
Well, really, we wouldn't want to hold public servants to as high a standard as we do celebrity athletes now would we?

 

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Not much to say

Bill:
So this season's World Series is down 31% from last year. The second lowest rated Game 1 in history. Imagine that?

 

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Mike:
You know for shits and giggles I tuned into Game 1 and, as luck with have it, the first thing I heah McCarvah say is that Ozzie Guillen's "hand gesticulations are fascinating." Aftah that the only sound you could heah was my head pounding against the wall.

 

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Bill:
I pity the White Sox and Astros fans who have to put up with that inanity a couple hours a night.

 

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Mike:
I doubly feel badly for White Sox fans who now have the likes of the Curly Haired Boyfriend writing things like "White is the new Red. The White Sox of 2005 are the Red Sox of 2004. They are diamond destiny's children."

 

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Bill:
Ah, yes, Shaughnessy and his nevah fail new age angle of destiny, lahgah forces, and planets aligned … Christ, I thought the guy was a graduate of Holy Cross and not fucking Hogwarts.

 

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Still beyond words

Hart Brachen, strip author:
On this one year anniversary of one of the most momentous and glorious events of our Red Sox fan lives, let's rejoice again in being part of the "The Greatest Comeback in the History of Sport."

 

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Tutantheo, The Boy King

Bill:
Well, we don't have Dale Sveum to piss on anymore.

 

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Doug:
Thank you, Christ! Anothah season of "send 'em sveum" and I'd flip out like an au pair and staht shaking the baby.

 

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Bill:
Ah, but don't get too cozy, we've got rumahs of Manny to the Mets for Beltran.

 

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Doug:
Ah, jeez, Carlos Beltran? Hello, Front Office? Why do you want to commit crapicide?

 

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Bill:
Rumahs like this combined with the $50 million for Damon talk and it's like call the CDC, dude, we've got a national jackhat pandemic on our hands.

 

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Doug:
Yeah, we're so going to need a do ovah on this book: Mind Fuck: How the Boston Red Sox Got Smaht, Won a World Series, and Created a New Blueprint for Winning, Then Threw Out the Blueprint and Got Totally Stupid Again!

 

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Bill:
Why do I get the feeling the 2004 World Series team is going to be like the Pyramids of Giza — you know, "We built it once but now, for the love of Isis, we can't friggin' remembah how we did it"?

 

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Doug:
Right now Shaughnasty is ringing up his book agent, "Dude, let me pitch an idea to you … While a happy Red Sox Nation basked in the warm glow of the blood red moon that hung ovah Busch Stadium, little did they know it was the eye of the god Thoth looking down and waiting to unleash the 3500 year old 'Curse of the Mummy!!!'"

 

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Bill:
Yes, the great Thoth, "the Reckonah of Times and of Seasons," must avenge the victory … Staht cranking the presses. Curly Haired Boyfriend's back in the green. Kaching! Kaching!

 

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Rule Brittania

Susan:
As a James Bond aficionado, you down with the new guy?

 

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Mike:
I'm cautiously optimistic. I like that he's more or less an unknown. Like that he looks tough yet refined. And, of course, good to see a blonde getting into the action.

 

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Susan:
Absolutely. Meanwhile, I think they should get a new "Q" as well, and I totally nominate that Dyson dude.

 

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Mike:
No shit! As soon as I saw the TV ad for the first time I was all "Must. Buy. Vacuum. Price. No. Object."

 

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Susan:
Yeah, the Dyson dude could be all "I've reinvented the shoelace," and I'd be like "Sign me up for that shit!"

 

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Mike:
Then you'd find out how much they are and your jaw drops but again you remembah the smooth clip of the Brit accent and "the proprietary Dyson designed tungsten aglets" and it's all, give me a dozen of those mofo pricey laces.

 

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Susan:
I wish the British played baseball just for the chance to have Major League managah with the accent and mannerisms. Can you imagine the postgame press conferences?

 

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Mike:
[In Brit accent] "I'm abashed at our utter lack of gamesmanship. But, tally ho, chaps, tomorrow we shall be brilliant. There you are now, right. Now be a sport and pass me the claret, would you?"

 

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Susan:
Only thing is I can't see an Oxford or Cambridge type willing to wear the declasse baseball uniform.

 

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Mike:
Are you kidding me? The Brits love crazy get ups. Their ahmy guys wear shorts and kneesocks fercrissakes. And their judges still put on those crazy wigs. And, hello? Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band?

 

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Susan:
[Laughing] Ah, so true. The nuttiah the costume the bettah for that lot.

 

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He's livin' in a Bambino world (And it makes you wanna hurl)

Bill:
Hey, when I gave money for "Katrina relief" I had no idea Katrina is a pole dancah.

 

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Doug:
I think NOAA should just staht exclusively using strippah stage names for storms.

 

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Bill:
Really! "BAMBI STEADILY STRENGTHENING AND BEGINNING TO DRIFT WESTWARD."

 

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Doug:
Heh. "CHERRY HAS VERY TIGHT EYEWALL AND IMPRESSIVE OUTFLOW. INTERESTS IN THE GULF SHOULD BEGIN TO MONITOR DEVELOPMENT."

 

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Bill:
Speaking of dancing for dollahs, you seen the latest money grab from the Shaughnasty? The Legend of the Curse of the Bambino for grades 3-7.

 

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Doug:
Holy Shit! First edition published in 2005, aftah the World Series win?! The duplicitous bastid.

 

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Bill:
You know, all things considihd, I'm surprised he stopped there. I mean what about the "Legend of the Bambino Bedsheets" or the "Legend of the Bambino Board Game"?

 

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Doug:
Christ, where's the God Squad Censahs on this one? They object to the casts and spells in Harry Pottah but it's all okey-dokey to tell kids a fat, old, vengeful ghoul haunted a real team and a real Fenway?

 

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Bill:
No wondah Madonna, I mean "Ester," says we're all going to hell.

 

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Doug:
I always love it when MILFalicious Madonna talks dirty.

 

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Bill:
Absolutely. Whenevah Madonna goes on and on about "the beast." I find myself getting aroused.

 

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Doug:
Papa's got some preachin' to do, bee-atch!

 

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