Al:
Yeah, I think that same guy signed John Lackey.
Mike:
Speaking of decay, did you see Baseball Musing's excerpt of the Bill James piece "Wit" where James posits on how baseball has entered the spectrum of the "calcified and moribund &8230; is "far advanced on this death march"?
Doug:
But, don't worry, James also insists it's not a jeremiad.
Al:
Really? If comparing the state of the game to "a hardening of the arteries" which "kills us all sooner or later" is not a jeremiad, then I must not be clear on the definition.
Mike:
Yeah, it's hahd to say without seeing the whole piece, but I think Pinto does a good job laying out an alternative, positive view.
Doug:
Absolutely, and I'll add that James' pointing to kids no longah playing baseball "in an empty lot with rocks and pieces of junk to mark the bases" as supporting evidence of the decline is pretty weak tea.
Doug:
I mean kids today are so friggin mandated by hyper-organization that their parents schedule play dates for fuck's sake. There's no time for or concept of kids just hanging out and winging it anymore whether its pickup baseball, football, or just riding around on bikes looking for mischief.
Mike:
But I don't even know if that's a bad thing in and of itself.
Doug:
What's the Thanksgiving Special this year, Arturo?
Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Turkey sausage on a bed of crispy matchstick leeks with a touch of cranberry mayo relish.
Doug:
You know the Red Sox are in disarray, Gronk has a broken ahm, and Israel and Hamas are going mano a missile but you, Arturo, you always give me hope.
Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
In the end, it's all about showing up and being thankful for what we have.
Al:
I don't like what'd do to my waistline, though... I mean every time he'd come up to bat I'd think of pizza napoletana, and once I think of pizza napoletana then I must have pizza napoletana.
Doug:
Seriously. The most convincing argument for the existence of God? Pizza and Chianti.
Rider on Green Line:
Your creepy author here on life's rich trolley...
Rider on Green Line:
No, I haven't abandoned you but I overslept this morning (after another severe bout of insomnia which has been pretty much every night since the time change) and then when I awoke I found my internet was down and I was on the phone with Verizon for 30 minutes getting it fixed.
Rider on Green Line:
On the insomnia issue, I have a prescription from my doc for some la-la land pills but I've been too afraid to take them, so far, as they are of the "you may awake, don a tuxedo, cook a meatloaf, Shamwow a dog, and have no recollection of it later" variety and I prefer to keep my drugs to the natural variety (wink) most of the time.
Rider on Green Line:
But I think tonight is the night I give those loop-the-loop pills a shot. I may have no recollection of Hart Brachen in the morning, though, so you have been warned.
Al:
Who knew the Mayan Apocalypse would feature a prequel.
Mike:
Seriously, the prequel stahted in Septembah 2011 with the fatal and unrecoverable collapse of the Red Sox and it's just been one jump cut to the next evah since.
Doug:
Hey, you can say what you want about the Mayans, but that they were kind enough to knit the 2004 and 2007 World Series victories into the final chaptahs of mankind's existence, well, that shit goes a long way with me.
Al:
So if the Mayans have been controlling everything all along, does that mean that when it ends we go to their version of the afterlife?
Doug:
Yep, where the streets are paved with milled corn and mezcal.
Mike:
And remembah the warning of the iguana—"Don't squeeze the Shaman."
