July Hiatus

Your omniscient author in absentia:
The Soxaholix are on vacation and will return no later than July 3rd [Oops, make that July 5]. Go Sox!

 

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Your omniscient author in absentia:
Update: TypePad was suppposed to autopost the above on Tuesday morning so you'd have a place to comment on new events while I was gone, but it didn't work.

 

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Your omniscient author in absentia:
No matter because I wanted to check in to mention the 11 win streak. (This streak of course has another cool name generated by you in the comments, but I dare not mention it for fear of jinxing it! Unlike the characters, I still have my superstitions.)

 

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Your omniscient author in absentia:
Meanwhile, my "Be Dan Shaughnessy" faux piece can be found here at BSMW: The House on Mango Street." If any of you (Bob?) have one over there, please leave the link in the comments so I can check it out. OK, Now I'm back to vacation… Go Sox!

 

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Finding the loving feeling

Bill:
Ah, as I was just saying, seems like David Ortiz hits a walkoff of some sort all the time.

 

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Mike:
Two walkoffs in two consecutive games?!?! Unbelievable dot com.

 

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Bill:
Get this — aftah Saddadee's walkoff bomb, Papi is now on 3 walkoffs from the all time, all MLB lead.

 

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Mike:
The Sox have now won nine in row for the first time since Septembah of [gulp] 2004.

 

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Bill:
Funny you should say that, as I'm getting that 2004 feeling again for the first time since, er, 2004.

 

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Mike:
Wicked good times again.

 

[Note: I'm taking a spur of the moment mini-vacation and going out of town for the remainder of the week. I'll try to do a weekend catchup strip, but we'll see how that goes. — Hart]

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There's 'Mr. Clutch.' And then there's 'Mr. Squishy.'

Mike:
Wow, as good as last Monday was, today's even bettah.

 

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Bill:
Yeah, life is pretty swell when the only thing you've got to bitch about is weather interfering with the Sox momentum and threatening to mess things up with dreaded doubleheadahs late in the season.

 

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Mike:
Meanwhile, I no longah have any words left to describe David Ortiz.

 

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Bill:
It's gotten to the point where his name itself carries all the meaning. Just say "Ortiz" and every Red Sox fan knows what you mean.

 

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Mike:
Really, let the friggin Inuit people spend all their time coming up with 26 different names for snow. Around these parts we only need one word to describe a late inning storm — Ortiz!

 

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Bill:
You know what's funny is Saturday's walkoff was his 6th with the Red Sox, but in my own head I swear I've seen at least 16.

 

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Mike:
No kidding. Seems like I've seen 6 this month. But we must guard ourselves from getting too complacent and expecting too much from Cookie.

 

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Bill:
Yeah, as everyone keeps saying, "It's not that easy."

 

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Mike:
But Big Papi sure does make it look easy, doesn't he?

 

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Bill:
I'm getting his SI covah shot mounted and framed.

 

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Mike:
Reminds me, isn't it fantabulous post World Series win to no longah have to get caught up in all that jinx crap?

 

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Bill:
Really I'm all tipping over salt shakahs, looking for laddahs to walk under …

 

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Mike:
Are you kidding me, when I see a black cat these days, I don't think "bad luck," instead I think "A-Rod."

 

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Bill:
A-Rod?

 

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Mike:
Yeah, you know, being that he's a pussy and all.

 

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Bill:
Heh. Now that you mention it, that ball slap play did look a lot like a cat paw-slapping at a piece of string.

 

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So sour your hair will curl

Bill:
This is a great idea. Bruce at Boston Sports Media is having a "Be Dan Shaughnessy" contest, asking readahs to submit their best attempts to ape what is expected to be the CHB's column on Pedro's return to Fenway as a Met.

 

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Mike:
Awsometastic. You should so entah, guy.

 

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Bill:
Are you kidding me? Between watching the Sox and my addiction to internet porn, I don't have time for that shit. Besides you're the bettah writah.

 

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Mike:
It's tempting. I mean if I can somehow manage to peel my eyes away from the 1-nil excitement that is World Cup soccer, I may be able to bang out something suitably Shaughnastyastic.

 

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Bill:
You'd have to make reference to one or all of the following, of course: Babe Ruth, Harry Frazee, the Curse.

 

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Mike:
Without question. And I suspect I'd want to bring in one of Dan's most reliable historical riffs — The Titanic, World War 1, The Summer of Love, The Kennedys …

 

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Bill:
What about tone. You think his Pedro returns column will be of the nasty, "piece of filth" Shaughnessy style or will he opt for the happy-go-lucky, light-hahted attempt to be humorous bit?

 

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Mike:
Oh, knowing that Shaughnessy is the master of "reworking" pieces he's previously written, I'm guessing he'll go with the angle he took after Clemens left.

 

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Mike:
You know, the revisionist history stuff making it seem like he'd always been a real supporter of Pedro, you know, never ever written a disparaging word about Petey.

 

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Bill:
Right, right. And his thesis will be along the lines of "Oh, you poor unwashed, unsophisticated, Boston fan fools. You drove Pedro away with your mean Puritanical spirits and the terrible things you said about him. I tried to warn you."

 

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Mike:
Well there's that, but I don't suspect Shaughnessy can resist the urge to go with a multi-front attack that will hit both the fans and Sox management concurrently.

 

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Bill:
So it'll be "You Boston fans think you're intelligent but you are really dumb asses. You drank the boy genius' Kool-Aid and allowed this greedy, filthy lucre front office to break up the Championship team and send Pedro out the door with an ungrateful kick to his poor, Dominican ass. Now, cretins, reap what you sow!"

 

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Mike:
Yep. That's my gut. And think about it. Look how easily he can swap the "They broke up the 2004 Championship team" meme with the "Harry Frazee sold Babe Ruth!" meme.

 

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Bill:
Well, what are you waiting for? Boot up MS-Word and get cracking.

 

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Mike:
Heh. Just dawned on me that MS-Word and Shaughnessy have a lot in common. They're both bloated, inaccessible, and survive only because Microsoft, like the Globe, is too beholden to legacy or otherwise obtuse to realize their customers hate it and want an alternative.

 

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Something in the air

Hart Brachen, strip's author:
Hey gang, I thought allergy season was over for me but I just had a massive sneezing attack and my head feels like it has been pressurized with Marshmallow Fluff and my eyes are so itchy I can barely read a computer screen.

 

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Hart Brachen:
Other than that, life is wicked good. I mean back to back sweeps?! Are you friggin kidding me?

 

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Hart Brachen:
For the first time I can remember, I'm actually loving interleague play.

 

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Mr. Wakefield goes to Washington

Mike:
You know because he throws the floaty-dopey fluttah, it's easy to forget just how ballsy Tim Wakefield is.

 

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Steve:
No kidding his pitches may float in like a paper airplane, but Wake's just as fucking nails mentally as any 98 mph flamethrowah stud.

 

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Mike:
Absolutely. I mean that bases loaded, no outs situation in the 6th last night was the gutsiest pitching I've seen all season from a Sox startah.

 

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Steve:
He hits a guy then walks a run in but never flinches, never breaks a sweat. Then it's S.O. swinging, S.O. swinging, and a pop out to end the inning. Totally fantabulous.

 

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Mike:
And, thankfully, the offense didn't let him down — A season high 17 hits. Righteous.

 

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Steve:
Seriously, there hasn't been that much Boston action in Washington since Barney Frank fired his "houseboy."

 

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Mike:
Speaking of hookups, some dude's stahted an online dating service for Red Sox fans.

 

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Steve:
Heh. I love the guy's premise: "to keep those New Yorkers in New York, and keep them away from our Boston girls." But I'm a little gun shy about the whole online matching thingy.

 

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Mike:
Had some bad experiences?

 

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Steve:
Are you kidding me? The last time I used Match.com the chick didn't look anything like her profile pic and all the bitch wanted to do was arm wrestle*.

[*NSFW]

 

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Mike:
Ooh. Scary, dude, very scary.

 

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Take what spoils you will from Egypt and go

Doug:
Christ I saw this Snyder kid take the mound for the first time and I was like holy fuck is that Bronson Arroyo after a couple mega doses of human growth hormone?

 

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Bill:
No kidding. Snyder pitched a decent game, too.

 

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Doug:
I'm loving this youth movement. Now they're bringing up Hansen to bolstah the pen.

 

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Bill:
Yeah, everyday I'm looking at anothah fresh new face, anothah peach fuzzed AAA kid. I totally feel like a MySpace perv.

 

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Doug:
And, hey, what about the return of Gabe Kaplah? I mean talk about your Chosen People. Everybody loves him.

 

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Bill:
Because Kaplah's a total effin A+ gamah.

 

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Doug:
Kap's got the blood of Moses in him, totally kicks Pharaoh's mascara wearing, pyramid loving, sissy ass.

 

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Bill:
Even if Pharaoh's name is "Ditka," Kaplah would still give him the Hebrew burning bush beat down.

 

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Doug:
And talk about two-fers. With guys like Kap, Youks, and Epstein you can root for the Red Sox and piss off the anti-semite, Holocaust-denying jihadist nut jobs all at the same time.

 

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Bill:
Hey Ahmadinejad, I've got your 12th Imam right heah, bee-atch.

 

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Happy Mondays

Susan:
Jeez, if only Phil Mickelson were a team, the Yankees might be off the hook for the worst choke jobbahs in all of sports.

 

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Mike:
Now as for not even knowing the meaning of the verb "to choke" I offah you one Jonathan Papelbon …

 

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Susan:
Holy Shiloh Jolie-Pitt the Mississippi kid's got 'nads of no, not steel, steel is for pussies, no, not titanium, not even close, this kid's got 'nads of armah piehcing depleted uranium I tell you the fucking what.

 

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Mike:
Last night in Hotlanta Timlin leaves Paps with two men on, but no sweat, right? One pitch and out. Un-buh-lievable dot com.

 

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Susan:
You read his line and you think is must be a typo: 36.2 innings pitched, 1 earned run.

 

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Mike:
And how about these team stats? The Sox now have 22 come-from-behind wins, second most in baseball. The Yankees, meanwhile, have 20 blown-lead losses, second most in baseball. The Sox are 9-4 in games decided after the seventh. The Yankees are 7-12.

 

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Susan:
This morning I'm happiah than Britney Spears with a box of twinkies and a fresh pack of Salems.

 

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Pass the smelling salts

Mike:
So Papi says his woulda been a homer ball off the Metrodome speaker was like "an angel out there catching the ball."

 

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Susan/Circle:
Yeah, well, in the spirt of homegirl Sarah Silverman I say, every time an angel interferes with an Ortiz homer, the angel gets AIDS. Full blown AIDs.

 

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Mike:
I hate the fuck out of the June swoon.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Why's it always got to be June anyway when the Red Sox fall to shit? I mean June is like the perfect month.

 

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Mike:
The weather finally settles in good, kids get out of school for the summer, up and down the coast the fried clam and ice cream shacks are unshuttered …

 

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Susan/Circle:
The humpback in his small, washed cottage, under the spokes of the clematis … The chimneys of the city breathe, the window sweats …

 

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Mike:
And there's the Red Sox taking a collective piss all ovah it year aftah year aftah year.

 

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Being Matt Clement

Hart Brachen (the blog's author):
Like our beloved Matt Clement (and by beloved I mean of course that he's ruining our friggin summah!), I've got nothing for you today, nothing at all.

 

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