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Doug:
OK, it totally dawned on me last night what the best thing about being a Red Sox fan in this golden era of 2 championships in 4 year is …
Doug:
Duh, you're right. The second best thing, then, is this — while the season will have its up and its downs, there is no reason, no reason whatsoevah to overly wallow in the downs.
Doug:
Case in point: This 11-19 on the road thing? Meaningless. Small sample size and all that. It'll even out.
Mike:
And what about Matsuzaka's shoulder and impending MRI that you were sobbing about all aftahnoon yestahday?
Doug:
I'm ovah that, too. Look it's not like he has SARS or West Nile. Dude, just has a case of fatigue. And how do you cure fatigue? Rest. Simple as that.
Doug:
We'll just bring up some guys from the fahm to covah Matsuzaka for as long as needed.
Mike:
Seriously. What's the point in depth of you don't use it.
Doug:
That's what Jenna Jameson said.
Mike:
Hey, did you hear Jenna calls her vajayjay by it's own name?
Doug:
Really? What does she call it?
Mike:
Christ, this West Coast swing is becoming all swevens and nightmare.
Doug:
Are you there, Offense? It's me, Pusslegut.
Mike:
You know when they went through that offensive suckitude a few weeks back I thought, OK, glad they got that out of the way early.
Little did I know that was just the prologue for a much lahgah work of tragedy.
Doug:
Tragedy, indeed. Did you know these guys have more strikeouts than hits and walks combined, 45:43?
Doug:
And, Christ, the OPB on this trip is a dispiriting .252.
Al:
Yeah, I picked up a quart of Hood's last night and their was a picture of the Red Sox hittahs on the back. Have you seen these mofos? Because they've been disappeared.
Al:
Maybe they'll turn it around in Baltimore? I mean Oakland and Seattle will suck the piss out of anyone.
Doug:
Nah. When an offense is clicking, it shouldn't mattah where they play. A good offense should be able score runs in fucking Fallujah fercrissakes.
Doug:
This is one of those days where I wondah, "What's the friggin' point?"
Doug:
No, not the Sox. They'll be fine. I just mean life in general.
Doug:
With these late night West Coast games, I get a chance to see what the rest of the world is up to, and, well, I don't much like what I see.
Mike:
Seriously. Record oil prices, housing mahket crisis, natural disasters …
Doug:
It's worse than that, guy.
Doug:
I mean Jesus H. Christ, people, get a grip.
Bill:
Well, if the Sox are going to get swept, bettah that it happens on the road, and bettah it happens on Pacific time, and even bettah if it happens on a holiday weekend.
Doug:
Absolutely. Between the late games and being occupied with Memorial Day, it was easy to keep a distance and not get too pissy.
Doug:
Hey now don't get too loose, according to Dave Pinto if the Sox happen to "falloff from their current .808 home winning percentage [it] may mean trouble, as Tampa's home/road record looks sustainable."
Bill:
I dunno. Tampa and "sustainable" just doesn't seem very realistic to me despite what Pinto's chahts and numbahs may be telling him.
Doug:
Seriously, and not to sound like Hillary Clinton but there is a lot of time left and I just don't see a team like the Ray with no pennant race experience being much of a factah when the heat is on.
Bill:
Yeah, and you nevah know, somebody could assassinate Kazmir in June.
Doug:
Not that we're advocating such a horrible thing. You know, just speaking hypothetically and all.
Susan/Circle:
Welcome to the Big Leagues where stahtahs have to be ready to go on 4, especially late in the season.
Mike:
Meanwhile, despite a multitude of long balls from the Sox, Manny remains entrenched at 498.
Susan/Circle:
Are you kidding me? Pressure? Nerves? This is Manny Ramirez we are talking about not a mere mortal.
Mike:
Absolutely. I mean Manny is so friggin cool he can make a snowman out of rain.
Susan/Circle:
And Manny is so loose, he can gargle peanut buttah fercrissakes.
Mike:
He'll hit dingahs 499 and 500 when it damn well pleases him.
Mike:
Well, even though nobody is going to confuse the KC offense with Murderer's Row, I'm very content with Colon's first outing just the same.
Steve:
Sure. 6 hits, all singles, and a couple walks. He'll be fine in the #5 slot.
Mike:
But more importantly, he fills the much needed emotional need to have a fat man in the rotation.
Steve:
Yeah, there's something about seeing a big guy out there on the mound that reminds me what a fantastic game this is.
Mike:
And in every fat pitcher there is the evocation of Babe Ruth and this creates a very pleasant sense of history.
Mike:
Seriously, he's an inspiration to me. I'm going to kick my workouts up a notch.
Steve:
What, free weights, Cybex, running?
Doug:
How deep and awesome is the Red Sox fahm system?
Bill:
How do you think lil' Hanky Steinbrennah feels when he boots up his computah and reads that?
Bill:
How about this line from the Post: "The Yankees converted baseball's highest cathedral into the world's largest commode last night."
Doug:
Christ, we've been calling that place The Toilet for years. The Post is just seeing that now?
Bill:
The Spankees have now lost 4 straight and 6 of their last 7. And if I smile any widah, I'll risk permanent paralysis of my facial nerves.
Doug:
Are you kidding me? I'm a mothefucking pimp, and Schadenfreude is my bitch.
Mike:
Is it enough that Lestah comes back from the friggin big C to pitch at a major league level again?
Mike:
Is it enough that Lestah pitches in the game that clinches the 2nd World Series win in our lifetimes?
Mike:
No, no. That's not enough for this kid — He has to go out an toss a no-hittah just to demonstrate the size of his friggin nads.
Doug:
You know what else? Get this. If you include Annibal Sanchez, Sox prospects raised in the Sox system account for 3 of the last 5 no hittahs in the Majahs.
Mike:
Seriously. And it's nearly 5 if you recall Schill taking it into the 9th last year.
Doug:
Hmm, Lestah and Ellsbury … anybody still crying ovah the lack of a Santana trade?
Al:
All this joy and the motherfucking Yankees are in last place and 6½ back.
Doug:
I tell you, aftah wandering in the desert for 86 years, I thank you sweet Jesus for delivering the Promised Land.
Doug:
It's even better in person than I evah could have imagined.
Mike:
And thank you Theory of Evolution and natural selection for favoring the inherited traits of baseball genius that have reached their genetic fruition in one Theo Epstein.
Al:
Christ, I love this cocksure feeling of being a lifelong fan of the greatest baseball franchise on the planet.
Doug:
Are you kidding me? If I get anymore cocksure, my pubis is going to have to apply for statehood.
Mike:
Is it game time yet? Because I need me anothah fix of greatness in action.
Doug:
Yeah, and with Kansas City up, it's time to throttle down and get some momentum before heading to the West Coast latah in the week.
Mike:
You worried about Beckett at all? He's looking very 2006ish lately.
Doug:
You know, if this were 2002 or 2003, yeqh, I'd probably be wearing down my worry beads, but these days? Not a chance.
Doug:
Besides, even if Beckett has a dropoff from his phenomenal success last year, it'll be more than compensated this season's nascency toward acehood by Daisuke.
Doug:
That's Theo for you. He likes to take the Jenna Jameson approach to building a ballclub … You know, there's no such thing as being too deep.
Rider on Green Line:
The Soxaholix are taking today off to, you know, get prepped for a homestand, Interleague play, and what we expect will be a return to the default position of Red Sox win and the other guys lose. (And by "get prepped" we mean, of course, recover from a wicked hangover.)
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