The calendar, on your wall, is ticking the days off

Mike:
Are you ready for Clay Buchholz day!?

 

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Bill:
Hold on a sec, kid. Not to take anything away from potential phenom Buchholz, but today still belongs to Tony C.

 

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Mike:
Wow, yeah, you're right. I was too young for the Tony C. era, but I tell you what, that Sports Illustrated covah has spooked me since I first saw it.

 

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Bill:
As Bob Ryan writes, "Conigliaro was not just a good Red Sox player. He was family. He was living the ultimate dream of every baseball-loving kid in Greater Boston."

 

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Bill:
Tony C is the greatest of all "What-Ifs?" in Boston sports history.

 

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Bill:
40 years ago on Friday, August, 18th, we lost Tony C. on the midst of what was to be a phenomal baseball careah … Here's to hoping Clay Buchholz is about to step into his own golden glow.

 

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I vant to suck your blood

Bill:
Losing to Tampa Bay in general is the suck. But rallying and getting so close only to still lose to Tampa is a ball bustah.

 

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Doug:
Is, isn't it?

 

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Bill:
1 of 3 against the Orioles and 2 of 3 from the Rays doesn't help me relax any … I know I should drink from the "it's gonna be fine" kool-aid, but I just can't seem to swallow it.

 

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Doug:
Yeah, well, being confident about the Red Sox is like being confident about NASA, you know.

 

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Doug:
I mean if I'm up on that heap of a shuttle with a gash in the heat panels and NASA says the damage "poses no danger to crew" I'm gonna be like "Can I get a friggin second opinion on that ovah heah?"

 

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Bill:
But at least the Yankees aren't gaining any ground.

 

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Doug:
Yeah, with luck Torre the Grim Reaper will continue his relievah death mahch.

 

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Bill:
Seriously. Despite his preseason promise to not use Rivera more than one inning a game, he's done just that 9 times this season and, well, I think we are seeing how that's working out.

 

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Doug:
Gotta love Joe. I shuddah to think how 2004 might have played out differently had Count Torrecula not sucked every bit of life out of Tom Gordon going into the ALCS.

 

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Clocks are big, machines are heavy

In a group of office workers, a woman speaks:
No Soxaholix today. Dude says he's barely got time to piss, let alone encapsulate the day's Red Sox fan gestalt by way of clip art characters.

 

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The woman continues:
Yeah, I know, right, what a friggin' whinah.

 

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These are things we know that we know.

Mike:
Ol' Timmah was on fiah last night, huh?

 

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Doug:
Yeah, if only it were repeatable. I mean next time out, it's just as likely the knucklah will go from hummingbird to pidgeon.

 

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Doug:
Meanwhile, pop quiz … Why was the Sox experiment with a "closer by committee" abandoned?

 

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Mike:
Because while in theory it seemed like a great idea, in practice it failed miserably.

 

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Doug:
And why was that?

 

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Mike:
Are you shitting me? Everyone knows why. Because in theory you should be able to put a relievah in for the 7th or 8th or 9th interchangeable and varyingly from day to day …

 

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Mike:
But, as it turns out, relief pitchers are in fact men and not robots so it doesn't work that way. The mental aspect of pitching in the 8th is different than that of closing in the 9th.

 

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Doug:
Absolutely. So I know that, you know that, even the guy running the ferris wheel at Canobie Lake Pahk knows that, but evi-fucking-dently, the Red Sox hadn't a friggin' clue.

 

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Only the palm is rosy these days

Bill:
Well, you know what they say: "If back the first week of April a fortune tellah had told you the Sox would have a 4 game lead ovah the Yankees on the morning of August 13th, you'd have claimed she was a fraud and asked for your money back."

 

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Doug:
True. But if the same turban-wearing gypsy had gone on to predict, "But the 4-game lead will be as tenuous as a Lindsey Lohan sobriety because the hottest team in baseball NY Yankees are seemingly unstoppable and gaining ground …" I'd have been all "O Great Soothsayer you really can foresee the future!"

 

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Doug:
And I'd then be giving her my palm and asking her to check out my lifeline.

 

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Bill:
And she, of course, would then have to break the bad news: "I'm sorry, sir, I can't read your palm, what with all the hair and all."

 

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Doug:
Heh. Well, unlike the Red Sox at least the Cult of Onan, , rarely if evah disappoints.

 

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Sometimes an expected or predictable narrative is just fine

Two guys walking, tall guy speaks:
You know baseball intellectuals have written that one reason we love baseball so much is that from its narrative of rules, structure, and repetition springs forth a fresh and hitherto-unforseen occurrence or meaning …

 

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Two guys walking, tall guy speaks:
But you know there are some "Holy fuck I didn't see that coming!" occurrences that  I could really do without.

 

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Two guys walking, no words exchanged:

 

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Two guys walking, short guy speaks:
Gagne says, "I'm not doing my job right now." Jeez, you think?

 

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Struck out looking

Your omniscient author in absentia:
Sorry, I've started 3 different strips this morning and they've all 3 fallen flat and been unsuitable for putting in front of you.  I can't even come up with anything for Lisa the Temp. So I'm going to sit today out.   

Here's to hoping the Sox can make hay during this upcoming "cushy" stretch of the schedule.

 

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I just flew back LA and boy are my arms tired

Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Amazing how much bettah the day is aftah a Red Sox win and a Yankees loss, eh Mr. Roy?.

 

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Doug:
Absolutely. But does it evah bothah you, Ahtie, that our day to day happiness is so tied the Red Sox fortunes?

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Ah, you know, free will is way the frig ovahrated.

 

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Doug:
I Kant argue with that.

 

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Doug:
So how goes the Tofu Pup sales?

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Fantastic. The Buddhist's love 'em.

 

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Doug:
No shit? …

 

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Doug:
So how do the ol' dharma bums take their pups?

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Well, you know, with the Buddhists it's always the same request, "Make me one with everything."

 

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They were against sending the runner home before they were for it.

Doug:
OK. That's it. No more watching 10pm staht West Coast games for me this season.

 

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Doug:
I mean it's bad enough to get to bed late, but it's even worse to then toss and turn as your mind plays a repeated loop of Wily "Why Is He Still Here?" Pena lumbahrin' around in the outfield.

 

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Mike:
Hey, on the bright side, at least they are, you know, "playing like a team," because just about everyone was in on the ineptitude last night …

 

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Mike:
Coco's rainbow to home, Wakefield's walking the leadoff man after being handed the lead, Lugo's stumbling over his own feet and botching a double-play ball for the second straight nigh …

 

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Doug:
Manny again thinking the the purpose of the cutoff man is to have a tahget to throw ovah … Youkilis's bobble a ball and then Manny Delcarmen's inability to field any ball …

 

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Al:
Don't forget DeMarlo Hale waving Mike Lowell home.

 

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Doug:
Jesus Christ what the hell is up with the Red Sox and 3rd base coaches?

 

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Mike:
Wendell Kim, Dale Sveum, and now DeMarlo Hale. It's a friggin revolving door of incompetents.

 

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Doug:
Seriously. And ff I wanted to watch nincompoops masquerading as professionals I'd be watching CSPAN and not NESN.

 

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Al:
Meanwhile, a few weeks ago people were saying the Yankees just need to make up a game a week to catch the Red Sox … Well, gaining a game every fucking day will work too.

 

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Doug:
I swear on the baby Jesus that I will not panic-panic until the lead is only 3.

 

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Frickin Frikadellen

Bill:
So Schilling says he'd have been fine if it wasn't for a couple of "hanging slidahs" … Hmmm, I think I've heard that somewhere before.

 

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Mike:
Yeah, same story, different day. Schill could have "easily shut those guys out" if it weren't for, you know, a couple o'bad pitches.

 

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Bill:
He's stahting to remind me of the bad guys on Scobby Doo who could have gotten away with it all if it weren't for those meddling kids.

 

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Mike:
Well, at least when Schilling retiahs he's got a job waiting for him at the Food Network called "101 Ways to Serve Up Meatballs."

 

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Bill:
Of course, we joke because we love. Overall it was a positive return to the rotation.

 

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Mike:
Yeah, he's gonna be fine.

 

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Bill:
So what is this so-called "magic word" that Manny uttered not once but twice to get himself tossed?

 

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Mike:
Rosebud.

 

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