« Being Tim Wakefield | Main | Make way for Papi »

Hey, Murph

Absolutely. As a fan you can throw a personal shit storm every time Wells runs off at the mouth, or you can think, meh, comes with the territory.


I sorta enjoy the it whenever Wells starts the trash talk.


So don't I. It's like Francona says, Wells mouth may give you a headache, but the guy's got a pretty good haht.


Yeah, in the end, I think the Red Sox know Wells will do whatevah they ask, despite the de rigueur bitch fest Wells will spew out along the way.


True. And they learned from getting burned last year …


Yeah, every time Well was rushed into the rotation, he didn't just get taken to the cleanahs, he got fucking mahtinized too.


Are you kidding me? His April 5th staht is for Sox fans what tonight's premier of the new Doctah Who is for gay sci-fi fans.


Dude, don't fuck with the Doctah. Evah see the bitches he time warps with?


Yeah, yeah, whatevah but meanwhile, Happy St Patty's Day, boyo!


In the words of Murph, "Let's get fucking wasted!"



You go Murph. and don't forget to toot your own crow today

anyone for a green fish taco? You had to know that was coming :)

Take it from those who know him best, t'ain't Boomah's haht, or mouth you have to worry about, his back can kill you without warning (see Game 5 2003 World Series).

Speaking of corned beef floating in beer: St. Patty's on a Friday during Lent? Jesus says it's okay to eat the sweet meat today, as long as it's on rye, with mustard, and washed down with Guinness, and a couple Hail Marys.

I doubt ot being Irish ever kept many from getting wasted on 3/17 but take comfort: St. Patrick was not Irish- he was a Roman slave in England. He escaped, went to Ireland, was free by the green and gold of the place.
The rest is questionable, at best.

It's great to believe he drove all the snakes outta the isles, but- there were no snakes.

For serious Christians (hell, not me!) it's wonderous he brought Christian theology via the three leaf clover to the pagans, but- he didn't.
The Celts were exposed earlier to the teachings of the number one son, and ignored such silliness.
Pagans were more fun, there were fairies, banshees, potatoes (oops- not until the Brits made 'em grow potatoes, then when the blight came around, they refused the wheat..there's a good reason why there is an IRA) and after the Romans gt the hell out of Britain, the Brits kicked Irish ass until 1923.

Sure, I love St. Patrick, why not? Myths are much more fun than truth anyway. The beer is tasty and green is a fine color.

Eat the beef, drinks some Harps, but one rule: don't throw up on your shoes. That pretty much covers it.

Enjoy St. Patrick!

I might add that contrary to popular opinion, everybody IS NOT Irish today. If I'm not African American on MLK day, then you don't get to be Irish today. Unless, of course, you already are Irish. In which case, Slainte!

There's no better way to celebrate St Patty's Day in Boston than to run a "$1 beer Friday" every other week in the school pub that just happened to coincide today...


PS - It's also Evacuation Day (a Suffolk County holiday) so park wherever you want, the meter maids have the day off.

I'm about 1/16 Irish but 100% Denver, which I guess means I should drink a green Fat Tire for lunch.

Mmm... Fat Tire...

Mmmm...Fat Tire. I've been pleasantly surprised to see that nearly all bars in SD have started carrying that fine ale (Bombers or kegs). Now, if only we could get some Sunshine...

Happy St. Patty's to all the laddies and lassies out there.

Saint Patrick was a gentleman,
Who through strategy and stealth,
Drove all the snakes from Ireland,
Here’s a toasting to his health.
But not too many toastings
Lest you lose yourself and then
Forget the good Saint Patrick
And see all those snakes again.

Wow, I haven't met too many people who say Slainte, COD, so kudos.

I'm stuck down in philly, but I have my corned beef, potatoes, carrots and onions waiting at home, and a big ol' pot just dying to cook 'em up. My italian girlfriend has (shockingly!) never had a boiled dinner, so this should be a treat.

Toss a stalk or two of celery and a bay leaf into that boiled dinner, Sean. It adds to the aroma and flavor.

I think your Italian girlfriend will recognize the bay leaf aroma. Make the whole thing more familiar to her.

And remember to have lots of mustard to slather on the corned beef on your plate. MMmmmmm!

Lord, this is the time of year when I miss New England the most. It just ain't the same out here in the Northwest. If you have blue eyes and red hair out here, everyone assumes you're Swedish. No thank you, I'll stick with the corned beef and cabbage. You folks can keep your lutefisk. Yurgh.

On the other hand, out here, you can hop a ferry up to Victoria, BC, and be smack dab in the middle of what has to be the largest Irish / British / Scottish expat community anywhere in North America.

Major West from "28 Days Later" is the new Dr. Who? That's it, I'm watching.

You sox fans kill me...Wells is a great insurance policy for your pitching staff. Let's review:

-A walk rate lower than Doc Gooden's self-esteem.
-doesn't give up many HRs
-good curve
-busts rhp's inside with the fastball
...and you're still asking questions?

John Damon's shoulder is gonna be OK, I knew it would improve once it was freed from the repetitive stress of the mandated circle jerks in the RS clubhouse...come on, lighten up!!!

Happy St. Patrick's day!

I practically put bay leaves in my coffee, so can-do. And we have the malt vinegar all set for the cabbage, so i'm excited for one hell of a meal, in addition to the mustard for the corned beef.

Hell, I think we have 3 different types of mustard: regular yellow, Cajun (straight from my father working down in NO), and hot chinese. We may have to experiment a bit.

Happy St. Patrick's day, from this Sean Patrick.

Heh, nice one, Jason O. Don't forget the daily Abu Ghraib-style naked pyramids in the Sox clubhouse. That did most of the damage to Damon's shoulders. Heal thyself, Johnny.

In the words of Edward Cardinal Egan: "Erin go braless, ye heathens."

I'm a mustard freak. I have an entire door shelf of the frig devoted to it. About 8 or so different varieties at any given time, with another stash in the pantry waiting to get rotated in.

I imagine one of Boston's fine taverns has a combustible concoction similar to the eye-tearing, sinus-clearing *hot mustard* at McSorley's in NY.
My brow is starting to sweat just thinking about it.
Drop a spoonful on the floor and watch the sawdust ignite, know what I'm talkin' about?

Read in the Herald today (so you just KNOW it's true) that one out of every nine Guinness consumed in the entire country today will be thrown back in Boston. My mother's grandparents (bless you McAdam's of Tulla, Clare) would be proud.

Babe, the hot mustard at McSorley's is Coleman's. You can get it at most any supermarket. And it's English mustard. A vile blasphemy if you ask me.

Oh, forgot to mention that I believe the good folks at McSorley's buy the powdered Coleman's mustard, then mix it up so it's extra spicy. More so than the bottled version.

(Sorry for hogging the conversation, but after two "lunch hours" at Sullivan's Tap, I've got my tongue on.)


If English mustard is served by a green-eyed lass, with a heartshaped ass, it's all Irish to me, blasphemy be damned, brother.

True, true Babe. But the fact is, you don't even need the mustard for a fine McSorely's onion sandwich.

Hey, McSorley's! That mustard is quite hot, whatever variety it might be. I'm rather fond of the shepherd's pie they seem to intermittently serve there.

What's amazing about McSorley's is that they didn't allow women until 1970.
Old schoolers will disagree, but to me, a pub without women is like a ball field without grass.

Okay, after a bit of Google research, McSorely's magical mustard recipe is....

Coleman's mustard powder mixed with a tiny bit of McSorley's Dark.

Babe, Devine; a quick trip to the store for Coleman's powder and a nice dark ale will sate your appetite tonight.

Babe, I agree about the odd "no women" rule intil the '70s. But McSorley's urinals make up for the anamoly. Greatest in the world (and I've seen my share of bar bathrooms).

speaking of McSorely:

The Marty McSorely/Bob Probert fight at Joe Louis Arena in April 1994 (On ESPN 2...it was the first week that ESPN 2 was on the air) was the greatest hockey fight I have ever seen.

It was the Hearns/Hagler of hockey fights.

First thing that always pops into my mind at the mention of "hockey fight" is Mike Milbury beating a Ranger's fan with the fan's own shoe at Madison Square Garden.

Ah, those were the days...

Ha! Milbury went all Khrushchev on that fan.

Jason O:

Better than the Entire Red Wings Team vs. Entire Avalance Team fight at the Joe a few years ago?

Really liked reading that unique linguistic construct, using a negative to show agreement- "so don't I"- in the third panel. I got questioned on that once by a prissy Philadelphia miss - is it a Bostonism?

Yes, "so don't I" is an example of a linguistic construct found in the Boston region, as well as other parts of New England.

Like your experience, it's one of those things you don't really notice as "improper" according to strict rules of grammar, until you're either outside the region or speaking to someone from outside the region.

For a nice primer in other Boston/NE constructs, visit Adam Gaffin's excellent guide to "Wicked Good Boston English."

The boomer is always making comments, this will blow over like all of his other ones we will watch him go out and win 15 or so games for the sox this year.

The comments to this entry are closed.

The Soxaholix eBook Spinoff

The captivating and long awaited Soxaholix eBook spinoff is finally available!

There's No Crying in Pocket Pool


Purchase at Amazon.


Logo t-shirts now available, several colors, even pink.

'Soxaholix logo t-shirt