Mike: You know there is nothing more disappointing than almost, almost witnessing perfection only in the end to just miss it.
Susan/Circle: Ah, yes, absolutely...
Susan/Circle: Like a perfect game that's broken up with a broken bat infield single in the 9th and almost, almost achieving the transcendence that Giamatti refers to as the negotium to otium, from tedium to freedom...
Susan/Circle: That is those precise random moments that had nevah before come together where spectatah and playah are privy to the realized act of imagination and in that instance are joined in assenting to a hitherto unknown betterment of self, city, and shared human plane of existence.
Mike:
So the guy who earned his nickname from his penchant to walk around the lockah room naked is now the great arbitah of mental acumen?
Mike:
Oh, sweet irony, you do so tickle my nethahs.
Al:
I love that paht when he says. "That's why I like whipping their butt."
Al:
The Red Sox undah Theo are 93-53 against the Orioles and 25-19 against all Showalter managed clubs. Some butt whipping that.
Doug:
Seriously. A Real Doll takes more abuse in her crate during shipping than anything the Bucky Boyz dish.
Mike:
But we should really give the guy a pass. I mean if the last 3 clubs you managed went on to win the World Series aftah firing your sad ass, you, too, would be bittah.
Doug:
Legal weed *and* baseball? Talk about a case of "If you build it, I will come."
Bill:
"Now batting for the Amsterdam Purple Haze, the shortstop, Poke Smot."
Doug:
"Clap.Clap. ClapClap... Whoa! Imagine if everyone in the world clapped at the same instant? Dude! Like what color would it be?"
Bill:
Heh. Speaking of dazed and confused, Manny in a Rays uni?
Doug:
I tell you what, despite all the Manny-Shemannigans we've been through, I look at that pic of Manny hugging Papi and I just can't help but smile.
Al:
You know, every so often the CHB comes out with something that reminds you that he can be one of the best in the biz.
Mike:
Well, there's a pattern to it, isn't there? I mean whenevah Shaughnessy writes about the present, he's one smug, vitriolic old bastard...
Mike:
But when he writes about the past, he morphs into a Curly Haired Proust.
Al:
That paht where Yaz talks about working with "the stahs before they are stahs" and his reminiscences about Youk and Pedroia had me choking up a bit.
Mike:
Seriously.
Doug:
And how friggin cool is it that Yaz wants nothing, absolutely nothing to do with being paht of the coterie of formah Boston stahs or wanting any paht of the limelight of fame...
Doug:
Yet Yaz still watches every single Red Sox game.
Al:
The man is a saint.
Mike:
Absolutely.
Doug:
I mean, c'mon... Teddy Ballgame loved fishing. Yaz loves fishing. Jesus was a fishahman. Coincidence? I think not.
Your omniscient author in absentia:
OK, good news, bad news...
+ The bad
I picked up a stomach thing while on vacation in a fairly remote part of Mexico and in addition to the standard symptoms it has left me with a hardcore case of malaise/apathy. I have no interest in anything — not food, not the Red Sox, not the usual pleasures of any sort. (Well, Dice-K's outing yesterday did make me half-smile.)
After 4 days of going with the "let it run its course" and "positive thinking" method of treatment with little improvement, I'm going to go see the doc today.
+ The good
I lost 6 pounds.
Hopefully the doc will give me something kick ass and I'll be back soon, like tomorrow.
Mike:
OK, so this new volume on Fenway looks like the must have book of the year.
Doug:
Seriously. And as much as I accept and generally cheer the rise of the eBook, no eReadah, so fah, can do justice to the so-called "coffee table book."
Doug:
Why do I get the feeling that it's only a mattah of time before we learn that Brady, A-Rod, and Just Beiber are gathering regularly for pokah games.
Al:
Throw in a couple dogs, and you've got yourself a painting.
Mike:
Keep an eye on that bulldog with the cigah, he cheats.
Doug:
Speaking of dogs, our favorite labradoodle haired boyfriend sure has been quiet this spring. Nothing from camp since Feb 19th.
Al:
Ominous. You figure that even in a halcyon camp like this one has been so fah, that the CHB would whip out one of his overly sarcastic "mahk it down, the Red Sox are going to win the World Series" columns.
Hart Brachen:
Your humble author, who even if he is not "bi-winning" is certainly "bi-just-showing-up" (which is a lot like winning, sort of, except for today, of course, when he's not actually even showing up) is taking today off to take a spin on life's trolley.
(BTW do you think the T charges a separate fare to bring a RealDoll on the Green Line? I'm just asking.)
Bill:
Exactly. While the playahs may be mere mortals, their mythology often rises to the heroic and should be celebrated as such.
Doug:
So a tip of the cap to the National Portrait Gallery.
Bill:
Now with that said, memo to the artist — WTF is up with the all the blue?
Bill:
I realize they didn't want to brand the portrait to a particulah team, but did it have to be blue?
Doug:
That's his Dominican uni from the WBC.
Bill:
Ah... OK... yeah, heaven forbid they put him a Red Sox uniform or anything I mean it's not like he won a World Series in Boston or won a pair of Cy Youngs here or anything.
Doug:
Hey, could be worse, at least they didn't put him in a UN Peacekeepers uniform.
Bill:
Actually, the UN could really use a guy like Pedro right about now.
Bill:
Petey would be all "Wake up the damn Gadhafi, I'll drill him in the ass!"
Mike:
If you evah need affirmation of the famous Campanella quote that "to play baseball for a living you've got to me man but you gotta have a lot of little boy in you too" look no further than this outtake reel.
Doug:
OMFG those outtakes are the best thing I've seen all wintah.
Mike:
Yeah, and this needs to be bookmarked and yanked out the next time anyone stahts the "primadonna" or "it's just a business to these guys" meme.
Mike:
Truth is these guys are the Boston Red Sox but they're also a collection of humorous, likeable, decent guys. Worth remembering.
Al:
"Mothers, people... Dude, clean it up."
Doug:
"Is there a tweet?"
Al:
"That's that twitter stuff."
Mike:
And I tell you what. While thousands of words have been written about Francona's relationship with the players, it wasn't until that 5 second split with Tito bustin' Pedroia's balls that I really felt like I knew what that really means.
