Time to reap

Susan/Circle:
Big Papi-On! One flap of his bat and it's a game metamorphosis from larva to a thing a beauty.

 

---

Mike:
Like in chaos theory, one clutch swing and half a world away a tempest forms in the resulting breeze.

 

---

Susan/Circle:
The comeback tales of Ortiz would cure deafness.

 

---

Mike:
Papi keeps us out of the dahk backward and abysm of time.

 

---

Susan/Circle:
And what about Papelbon-bon, the bullpen fondant?

 

---

Mike:
It was a defining moment. The confidence. The pure intensity on his face. The fastball good as evah. The splittah coming along.

 

---

Susan/Circle:
And Manny, digging in, digging in like a Cape Neddick clammah.

 

---

Mike:
The playoff possibilities are before us. A progression of the infinite to the finite, the hope of April to the must of Octobah.

 

---

Susan/Circle:
I keep like fruitcake. Subsist on air. Not a worry nor care.

 

---

The dead are talking...and she is listening

Bill:
Ah, can somebody call that Ghost Whispahrah chick because I've got a new case for her.

 

---

Doug:
No kidding. Fahget the kid hit by a train who doesn't know he's dead yet. Ovah heah I've got a 25 guys run ovah by the Yankee Express a month ago but who insist they're still alive.

 

---

Bill:
And aftah that I've got anothah spooky script for Ms Love Hewitt to read. It's called "I Still, Still, Still, er, Still, Know What You Did Last Summah! (And it wasn't 'Wins the AL East')"

 

---

Doug:
Seriously. It's the perfect slashah/horrah film sequel set up. The evil nemesis is finally killed in 2004 and everybody can rest easy, laughing and splashing on the beach, nubile chicks in bikinis and all, it's a year latah and not a care in the world …

 

---

Bill:
And then the overly serious and ominous voice ovah says: "Some secrets will haunt you forevah." Cue sounds of screaming.

 

---

Doug:
Of course, in memory of last season, we should be more optimistic. Rationally there is no need to panic. And yet …

 

---

Bill:
Happiness is founded on forgetting -- only wisdom, poor wisdom relies on memory.

 

---

4 8 15 16 23 42

Tara:
So if you can go back in time and replay yesterday, Tito lets Wake go complete for the first game, saving the P-Bon and Timlin for the second game …

 

---

Mike:
And, consequently, that would have allowed Tito to pull Pope Montague the 1st aftah the 6th, when it was clear he was stahting to lose it.

 

---

Tara:
Ah, well, it is what it is, 2-way tie for the division, 3-way tie for the joker's wild.

 

---

Mike:
And at the risk of being accused of crushing on that Polyanna chick, at least our guys did win one yestahday and the loss was normal as opposed to catastrophic.

 

---

Tara:
Mussina done after 1 and two-thirds, the Yankees' pitching walked 9 Orioles and gave up 14 hits and 17 runs …

 

---

Mike:
Four hours sixteen minutes, 398 pitches and an 17-9 Yankee whooping. Their fans can say it means nothing, but that loss hurts the fan psyche not to mention the Yankees bullpen.

 

---

Tara:
Only problem with getting too optimistic is I remember a certain team who got the crap kicked out of them 19-8 but then came back to win 8 straight securing a couple pennants along the way.

 

---

Mike:
Argh. Don't do that to me. Using Red Sox history to bolstah the Yankees chances …

 

---

Tara:
Buck up, fool. The Red Sox are going to make the postseason. I'm so confident that tonight at 9 I'll be tuned into Lost and only glimpsing the game during commercials.

 

---

Mike:
I hope you're right. If the Sox don't make the postseason, I'll be livin' in the past like that freaky Desmond dude in the hatch.

 

---

Double the pleasure or double the trouble?

Bill:
Ah, Christ, a rainout followed by a double-headah the last week of the season while a half a game back in a pennant race?

 

---

Doug:
Have double doses of Xanax and Vioxx on the standby, it's a pharmaceutical company's wet dream.

 

---

Bill:
Somebody ring up Alan Greenspan and tell him to prep the Fed for a decrease in workah productivity in the Northeast beginning at 1pm.

 

---

Doug:
OSHA needs to issue an emergency memorandum advising employahs to secure sharp objects from offices and warning foreman not to let guys with B's on their hahd hats operate backhoes or other heavy equipment while the game is in progress.

 

---

Bill:
On the bright side, Schilling nevah wahmed up last night, so he'll be fresh as a daisy for his 7:05 staht tonight.

 

---

Doug:
And by "fresh" you of course mean an ankle held together with staples and prayers, diminished velocity, and mental anguish with a side of emotional turmoil?

 

---

Bill:
You know, I really empathize with Schilling and generally love it when the sports writahs give us those human interest, family angle pieces, but I so did not need to hear Shonda Schilling's dismal report from the home front just now.

 

---

Doug:
Are you kidding me? It's like being on a stricken airlinah about to make an emergency landing and as you assume the crash pahstchah the woman sitting next to you blurts out, "My husband is the pilot and he's totally fucked up ovah losing his pilot skills. He hates himself. And his fathah's dead, too." Jesus, lady, not now, OK?

 

---

Bill:
If Shonda wants to help, she ought to track down the wife or girlfriend of the playah making the disparaging remahks about Curt getting off easy for not being booed and kick the shit out of her.

 

---

Doug:
You know, what this season lacks is a good catfight.

 

---

I dread, dread to think what the future will bring (When we're living in gangster times)

Doug:
Despite a whole season of following baseball day in and day out, yestahday's convergence of back-to-back "I need these" wins from both the Sox and Pats made me realize I'm not at full fan strength.

 

---

Mike:
No joke. I was already emotionally drained from the 3 game sweep at Camden when it's ovah to Pittsburg for a rollacoasta Pats win that neahly sucked the soul outta me.

 

---

Doug:
Yeah, and as if I'm not already totally feuillemort in complexion from it all this morning I open Drudge to find a 5-x headline that Barbra Streisand has "declared" a global warming emergency.

 

---

Mike:
Yeah, it's one thing to turn a deaf ear to climatologists and other environmental scientists but ignore the actress who played not only Yentl but also Roz Focker? Fools!

 

---

Doug:
Hey, it's about time some serious celebrity weight gets behind this crisis. I mean, c'mon, you think it's a mere coincidence Keith Foulke, in the prime of his life, goes down with not one but two knee injuries in the same season?

 

---

Mike:
And don't forget Wells. In a normal climate, that shit just doesn't happen. It's eerie and, frankly, frightening.

 

---

Doug:
If that isn't scary enough, there's the damn Yakuza Jap Mafia effin' things up for revenge of Hiroshima.

 

---

Mike:
The powah of Yakuza is well known. You diss them and you're marked. When you least expect, expect!

 

---

Doug:
Absolutely. Look at poor Gabe Kaplah. Says he hated playing in Japan after his brief and troubled stint with the Yomiuri Giants, gets waived, returns to the Sox, is contributing mightily when he all of a sudden he falls and snaps a tendon while rounding second base?

 

---

Mike:
Yep, Yakuza can't be content with a devious weatha machine. Oh, no. They need to go and get an insta-cripple-beam as well. Bastids.

 

---

Doug:
Damn them and damn their skanky comfort women as well.

 

---

But it's been no bed of roses, no pleasure cruise

Steve:
So the word is Foulke is shutting it down for oh-5.

 

---

Bill:
Wait, wait, because what I'm about to say might be critical, and lest anyone think I'm retahded or ignorant, let me first issue the following disclaimah: 2004's World Series victory would not have been possible without the heroic efforts and stunning ability of Keith Foulke and he may very well have ruined his careah because of it.

 

---

Steve:
Right. Of course. I'm mentally genuflecting as I say this, but I'm happy to hear that Godot like wait for Foulke's "return to form" is finally over.

 

---

Bill:
Absolutely. It's like one guy posted at SoSH. It is one less potential point of indecision for Tito. If you take Foulke away then Tito can't put him in.

 

---

Steve:
Meanwhile, I'm so glad that pesky ½ game is gone so Joe Torre doesn't have to fret about it anymore.

 

---

Bill:
Speaking of the Mystique and Horror show, so how's this "the Yankees can't win forevah; they have to cool off at some point" strategy working out for you?

 

---

Steve:
Er, not so much. At this point the Red Sox just need to win every game and not count on any passive help from the Yankees.

 

---

Bill:
Yeah, backing into a Division title because of another team's losses is lame.

 

---

Steve:
It's like sucking your own balls.^* It might get the job done, but it doesn't do much for the ego.

^*(NSFW!)

 

---

Bill:
Yeah, last time I checked the lyrics for "We Are the Champions" go "I've taken my bows" and not "I've sucked my own balls …"

 

---

Doing battle with gravity

Bill:
At times like these it's important to remembah it's just a game, you know?

 

---

Doug:
Seriously. Step back, take a deep breath, and get some mofo perspective.

 

---

Bill:
Really, I mean it's not like we're at war with a bunch of jihadist whack jobs or anything. So the Red Sox are in second place behind the Yankees. It's not like we're about to have a global avian flu epidemic or anything.

 

---

Doug:
Right. It's not like entiah cities are being wiped out by massive killa hurricanes or anything … I mean if the Red Sox don't make the playoffs, it's not like gas prices are at recahd high or the global fucking economy is about to shit the bed or anything.

 

---

Bill:
Jeez, you've gotta love perspective.

 

---

Doug:
I can barely contain my joy at the dawn of a new day. My innah child is so released.

 

---

Bill:
Yes, yes, if I close my eyes I can see my innah child … he's happy and he's running … wait, what's that in my innah child's hands? Oh, how cute, scissahs.

 

---

The Schill and the Schmiss

The Red Sox win big but so do the Yankees. At this point there isn't much that can be said. It's win or else …

Doug:
So Schilling has gone from making 55000 New Yorkahs shut up to only getting 6 Central Floridians to stop talking on their cell phones during a game, but I'll take it.

 

---

Mike:
Seems the Schill has made himself shut up, too,despite pitching a great game, as he wasn't heard from after the game, only seen, walking out a back doah to the clubhouse before it opened to the media.

 

---

Doug:
Maybe Jesus told him, "Look Curt, Daddy and I gave you the gift to pitch and not the gift to gab. Stop running your mouth off and pitch like I know you're capable of. You're bringing down the whole 'made in my image' vibe when you suck ass on the mound. Don't make me come down there and smite you, dude, OK?"

 

---

Mike:
You know you just can't overemphasize the good that can result from a solid, personally delivahed, deific smiting.

 

---

Doug:
Truly, what the world needs now is more smites. I mean look around. There is a most obvious dearth of the smotted.

 

---

Mike:
If I were starhting a new pro sports franchise, I'd call the team "The Smite"

 

---

Doug:
Fucking A right. But what would the logo be?

 

---

Mike:
I was thinking of a fist clenching lightening bolts or something.

 

---

Doug:
Dude, that is awesome! Put me on the mailing list and shit.

 

---

Nothing more than feelings

Bill:
Hey, you know, the Red Sox are still in first place.

 

---

Doug:
Fuck yeah, and the North Koreans say they're going to abandon their nuclear weapons program. Now I can sleep easy and shit. Everything's okee fucking dokee.

 

---

Bill:
Wells says he doesn't "feel" the lead slipping away.

 

---

Doug:
Right on. Who cares about past performance or those pedestrian details like the number of wins and losses? What really friggin counts is how we all "feel."

 

---

Bill:
When exactly did the Sox' front office toss out all the Bill James books and replace them with Deepak Chopra?

 

---

Doug:
Speaking of feeling good, Dale Sveum must be ecstatic these days.

 

---

Bill:
Really, how so?

 

---

Doug:
Well, in Ray Nagin, Mayor of New Orleans, Sveum has finally found someone worse than he is at determining when folks are safe going home.

 

---

Bill:
!

 

---

Stop, Drop, and Roll

Marty:
Hi, this is Bug Selig calling to say we want the 2004 trophy back because we now realize how bad you Sawx suck. [Sound of mocking, evil laughter]

 

---

Bill:
Right on time, Mahty, calling when the race tightens.

 

---

Marty:
Well, you know, Billy, one is the loneliest number, and that "1" in the loss column is making me want to reach out and share what it feels like to root for a team that can go on an extended hot streak.

 

---

Bill:
The race is on, Mahty.

 

---

Marty:
On? The only thing "on" is you on drugs if you think it's on. It's over, baby. Foulke is toast. Schilling's God has forsaken him. Damon's held together with bondo and duct tape. Face your own music. Which by the way sucks as well. Dropkick Murphys? What a joke.

 

---

Bill:
You forgot somebody, Mahty, maybe your subconscious is blocking him out due to the psychic pain, but his name is David Ortiz, Yankee Slayah.

 

---

Marty:
Sure as shit, Callaghan, you must be cooking meth up there on the Back Bay your mind is so addled. Have you noticed how your Big Papi's homers have gotten shorter and shorter? Soon those late inning blasts that are covering up for how bad your guys really are, will be nothing but routine warning track put outs.

 

---

Bill:
Wow, measuring Ortiz's homahs during highlight reels? Sounds pretty desperate to me, Mahts.

 

---

Marty:
The other thing with Ortiz is he's become so full of himself, flapping his gums about how he deserves the MVP? Meanwhile, the real MVP just quietly goes out and gets his job done, day in and day out. That's called class, Callaghan, something you know nothing about.

 

---

Bill:
The remaining schedule still favahs the Red Sox.

 

---

Marty:
Oh, right, facing the surging Yankees in the final 3 is great for you. [Laughing] One team can't wait to play everyday while another team is crying about a lack of a day off. Some advantage, eh?

 

---

The sacred and profane

Big Papi does it yet again, but the win is not without a grave loss …

Mike:
Jeez, seeing Gabe Kaplah go down like that was wicked eerie.

 

---

Doug:
Yeah, and it was so nice of the Toronto fans to boo when Machado came in as pinch to finish out G-Unit's homah … Guess they thought Kaplah was faking it, because, you know, that would make so much fucking sense and all. Bunch of leaf loving fucktahds.

 

---

Mike:
It totally amazes me that baseball already had a rule on the books to covah something so bizarre. Talk about thinking outside the flippin' box.

 

---

Doug:
Absolutely. It's like the rule they dug up covering ambidextrous pitchahs back when Greg Harris was around. The baseball framahs thought of everything.

 

---

Mike:
If only we had dudes like that these days doing, I dunno, disaster planning and shit …

 

---

Doug:
So, like me, you've bought every Red Sox commemorative World Series DVD and box set, now the question is are you going to add Melissa Goes to Boston to your collection?

 

---

Mike:
I dunno, dude, I'm OK with the concept in general, but the flashing your titties during a tour of Fenway is pure blasphemy.

 

---

Doug:
Aw, c'mon, it's in high def and the chick is bonah popping hot … you can just fast forwahd through those pahts.

 

---

Mike:
Doesn't work like that. Protecting our heritage and culcha is a full time job … it's like that Broken Window Theory … You start allowing soft porn at Fenway and the next thing you know Fenway is rubble and the Sox are playing in some McPark on turf with a Hahd Rock Cafe and a Gap on the outfield concourse. I'll have none of it.

 

---

Doug:
Ah, Christ, as much as the titty loving technophile in me is aroused by Miss Harrington's HD exploits, in the end you're right. The chick is a fiah hot, though.

 

---

Mike:
Yeah, but remember what Rilke said, "A webcam exhibitionist hottie is only the first touch of a terror we can still bear."

 

---

Girls Gone Wild

Susan/Circle:
Grrrrrrrrrr …

 

---

Mike:
Red Sox rocked by Toronto. Yankees crush Tampa Bay. Mike runs with scissors.

 

---

Susan/Circle:
Lead slips to two and a half. I am bound in rope made from my own sinew.

 

---

Mike:
Tell me this season isn't going to come down to a one game playoff.

 

---

Susan/Circle:
Ah, c'mon, you can do bettah than that. Let your pessimism think outside the fucking box. Imagine a five way tie, where the Red Sox, New York, Cleveland, Los Anaheim, and Oakland all end up with the same record.

 

---

Mike:
Christ, you're right. My doomism and gloomism just hasn't been the same since the World Series.

 

---

Susan/Circle:
Well, what do you expect? You lost your identity for fuck's sake. But your real problem is you're not reading enough Sox chick blogs.

 

---

Mike:
Ah, this is brilliant: " I don't know what to say about Edgar. I don't know that I've ever actually seen someone throw the ball, on a relay, directly at the ground before. That was special. Special like a tiny, tiny kitten with one eye and extra toes and a smashed-up persian-style face so its tongue is always sticking out and it's drooling."

 

---

Susan/Circle:
I'm tellin' ya, the bitches represent.

 

---

Guardedly Optimistic

It takes 11 innings and more David Ortiz heroics, but the Red Sox refuse to let one slip to Toronto …

Bill:
Christ, I'm getting too old for games like last night's.

 

---

Mike:
Are you kidding me, every time the bullpen chokes on a sweet lead, I have to go look in the mirror to see if one side of my face has gone all post-stroke droopy.

 

---

Bill:
Yeah, everything was supposed to have changed aftah winning the World Series … well, I've got news for the pudnuts, the "the no lead is safe" sentiment is the same as it evah was.

 

---

Mike:
And the reliance on the deus ex machina deliverance via a lahjah than life sluggah and the long ball hasn't changed one iota from one season to the next.

 

---

Bill:
Not that we'd want it any other way, though. I piss on Joe Morgan and his "small ball" fetish. Give me a Yaz or a Papi any day.

 

---

Mike:
Ortiz joins Yaz as the only players in the 105-year history of the Red Sox to hit 40 home runs in consecutive seasons.

 

---

Bill:
And what about Papelbon getting his first win in the Majahs? How long before he's notching twenty or more a season?

 

---

Mike:
I'll consider his potential to win 20 games when I see him throw a good breaking pitch more than once an inning.

 

---

Bill:
Cheer up, dude. Didn't you hear "dead arm" Hansen is hitting 97 on the gun again?

 

---

Mike:
Hey, I'm so on board I'm driving the friggin bandwagon, but that's just it: I want to finish out this season before going into the la la land of what might be, you know?

 

---

Bill:
Whatev sour puss. I'm just saying we've got some very real potential for a bullpen shot in the arm, the amateur porn gets bettah each day^*, and next week is National Singles Awareness Week, so you need to loosen your tie and relax a bit.

^*(NSFW!)

 

---

Mike:
"Singles Awareness Week"? You've got to be shitting me?

 

---

Bill:
Tell me you are not questioning the wisdom of your Government and its institutions?

 

---

He that has a good harvest must be content with a few thistles

Bill:
Hey, has losing 2 of 3 in New York evah left you feeling so … well, I'm leery to say it for fear of latah being boned by karma, but you know …

 

---

Doug:
Yeah, "good;" is probably too strong a word, but let's just say I feel "not-panicked" … And why not? Schilling is back. Wakefield is as hot as evah …

 

---

Bill:
An Octobah stahting rotation of Schilling, Wakefield, Wells, and Clement with Papelbon and Arroyo working in front of Timlin? Sign me up for that mojo.

 

---

Doug:
Baseball Prospectus now puts the odds of the Red Sox playing in the postseason at 90%.

 

---

Bill:
And the ubah stathead Eric Van floats a notion that things could even go bettah than 'at.

 

---

Doug:
Man, is there anything bettah than a Septembah in Boston during a pennant race?

 

---

Bill:
It's like a fahmah planting with his crops in the spring, watching the tiny shoots emerge and grow, weathering the drought, the downpours, the locusts, to find himself all of a sudden ready to reap the bountiful hahvest.

 

---

Doug:
Anyone who can watch a pennant race gem like yestahday's game without tears in their eyes, without being moved in the same way as they are by a work of art is a fucking philistine — there's no othah word for them.

 

---

Like Lazarus, he's back.

After struggling all year, yesterday Curt Schilling pitched like Curt Schilling for the first time since "the miracle of the Bloody Sock" …

Scene from a church:
And Jesus said to his disciples …

 

---

Father Tim:
"Humankind is a like a wise fisherman who cast his net into the sea. He drew it out of the sea full of small fish. The wise fishahman found among them a lahge, good fish. He threw all the small fish back into the sea and chose the lahge fish without hesitation."

 

---

Father Tim:
And the Red Sox are like a wise fishahman who cast their net and pulled in a lahge, good fish. And we call this lahge good fish Curt Schilling.

 

---

Father Tim:
And that big fish, my children, pitched a wicked stunnah yestahday. So let's us pray for a continued healing of "the ankle" …

 

---

Scene from a church:
…

 

---

Father Tim:
Whoevah has eahs let him heah.

 

---

The meek inherit crap

Bill:
Dang, I really wanted to sweep the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim of California of the United States of America of Planet Earth of Globular Cluster 15 of the Known Universe, but 2 of 3 from a potential postseason foe in Septembah ain't bad at all.

 

---

Mike:
Yeah, there's a real positive vibe in the air … even the off field stuff gets me warm and fuzzy, like what Ortiz is doing to help Katrina victims.

 

---

Bill:
Probably no bettah time to walk into the dahk alleys of the Bronx, although nobody outside of Boston and New York gives a shit, or so we are told.

 

---

Mike:
Ah, fercrissakes, I know these syndicated columnists get paid to write bullshit content aimed solely at trying to push people's buttons and should be ignored at all costs …

 

---

Bill:
Still, you feel duty bound to fisk it?

 

---

Mike:
Absolutely. I mean first of all, where is the evidence that anyone outside of Red Sox and Yankees fans evah stopped, dropped, and rolled during the regular season when the two clubs meet?

 

---

Bill:
Right, during the playoffs is different story, but if you're a Cubs or Astros or White Sox or whomevah fan you are compelled, unless you're a total wankah, to devote all your attention to your own club's 162.

 

---

Mike:
Meanwhile, Caple tells us the rivalry is now invalid because the Red Sox finally clobbahed the Yanks, but just last year the syndicated sports pudnuts were telling us there was no rivalry because the Sox always lost to the Yankees? Jeez, talk about moving the effin' goal posts.

 

---

Bill:
Yeah, and what's all this new found fascination with the Red Sox payroll? Has Caple been living under a rock for the past decade when the Red Sox have consistently been in the top of the heap on salary? Only thing that's different now is the management stopped spending money like dumb asses.

 

---

Mike:
I just don't get this "you're just like the Yankees" shit anyway. I mean I challenge Caple to find me one baseball fan, just a single fan in the whole world, who wakes up during the hot stove season and says, "You know, this season I hope management does a serious slash and burn and cuts payroll by 50%. I want my club to be cheapskates. I want to root for a team in the bottom 5 of payroll expenditures. Fucking A right."

 

---

Bill:
Yeah, seriously, it's like saying, "I hope to have a dead end, no skills required minimum wage job because, you know, I don't need to afford an iPod Nano when I can buy this cheap ass looking Wal-Mart imitation."

 

---

Mike:
And while I'm at, I want a sexual partner who is not only ugly but frigid, too.

 

---

Bill:
Because I'm an underdog, baby! Roof Roof!

 

---

Summer loving

Susan:
Bronson Arroyo, I am so in love I grow a new hymen.

 

---

Tara:
12 and 9 with a just completed team-leading 17th quality start, what's not to love?

 

---

Susan:
Bronson brings out the Boston in me. The Great Molasses Flood of 1919 in me. The one if by land two if by sea in me. The salt cod and brown bread in me …

 

---

Tara:
Captain Fenway says he thinks Bronson is a better pitcher than a year ago and he's going to get better. Can you imagine?

 

---

Susan:
Ah, beanpole Bronson, blond tipped Arroyo, won't you at least pretend you want me? My nipples are lonely, my beads drip your name …

 

---

Tara:
Whoa, girlfriend, I think I should let you go so you can have some "alone time."

 

---

Susan:
Smashing idea but I'm late for work already. But I do need something to get wanting to 69 numbah 61 off my mind.

 

---

Tara:
Oh, I've got just the thing, I give you Jose Cansefug in a see-through thingy pimping for the paparazzi.

 

---

Susan:
Eew.

 

---

Some clutch at straws while others are just clutch

Bill:
[humming Jeopardy theme] Da da daa da … In the category Red Sox for $500, "The greatest clutch hittah in club history."

 

---

Doug:
Who is David Ortiz?

 

---

Bill:
Of course, any time the words "clutch" and "hittah" are conjoined, a half dozen SABER guys rupshah a nut in frustration yelling "There's no such thing!"

 

---

Doug:
So when the hahd core sabermetricians  are rooting for their fave team and a guy comes up in a game-on-the-line situation, do they go, "Now would be a most opportune time for a random statistical deviation. C'mon randomness, Whoo hoo!"?

 

---

Bill:
Well now, Doug, that's a moot point, you see, because the hahd core stat heads cannot root for one team ovah anothah cuz doing so would pollute their research. It's all about the numbahs, dude.

 

---

Doug:
Heah's some numbahs for ya, Wake says aftah pitching 9 that he's got 5 more in him. He loves the cool nights.

 

---

Bill:
Christ, autumn and the knuckleball go together like lobstah and buttah.

 

---

Doug:
With Schilling, Foulke and possibly Miller on the mend, and Wakefield coming into his Fall form, I dare say I'm feeling pretty frickin good right now.

 

---

Bill:
Meanwhile, our shadowy nemesis, has lost the season series to Tampa Bay and will be sending the awesome twosome of Chacon and Small against the Sox this weekend.

 

---

Doug:
Jeez, a $200 million plus payroll just doesn't buy what it used to does it?

 

---

Bill:
Yeah, poor Georgie, he's getting gouged on gas for his limo and gouged on his stahting rotation. Times are wicked tough.

 

---

There are many standing around the drinking trough (but there's nothing in the well.)

Bill:
A loss is a loss, still, I'm liking Schilling's progress …

 

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Doug:
Ditto. 7 innings, 117 pitches, hitting 95 on the gun …

 

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Bill:
If the 1-3 hittahs don't go a combined 0-11, Schilling gets the win sure as shit.

 

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Doug:
Speaking of shit, didn't you love seeing Foulke take Jurassic Carl down on 3 pitches?

 

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Bill:
You know, it's the presence of that dink on the White Sox rostah that has me quietly discounting their chances come Octobah. Talk about your curses, I mean it's only a mattah of time before he bites the head off a bat boy or something, fucking freak show.

 

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Doug:
Yeah, the dude's always spouting off about being Christian and shit but funny how we don't read any stories about his helping those in need or anything.

 

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Bill:
No kidding. It's easy to poke fun at Schilling's treating the mound as religious altah with all that silent praying and cross kissing, but at least the dude can walk the walk, you know?

 

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Doug:
Well, fucking Everett doesn't believe you can prove dinosaurs existed, so he probably doesn't believe the hurricane really happened either.

 

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Bill:
What I don't friggin get is how can Everett rationalize playing baseball since, like dinosaurs, it's not mentioned in the Bible either?

 

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Doug:
Well, you know what they say, "If the blind guide the blind, both will fall into a pit."

 

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Take rest; a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop.

Hart Brachen, blog author:
It's Labor Day and your Boston Red Sox have a 3½ game lead at the top of the AL East … Enjoy!

 

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As long as you stilll have one more at bat

Susan/Circle:
Just when I think I can no longah reconcile cheering for the Red Sox while seeing anothah person crying for help or just croaking right there while the anguish porn camera is rolling, along comes Jonathan Papelbon.

 

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Mike:
Totally. I mean aftah reading about the kid vomiting in grief when they took his puppy away, I was like, "Fuck the peanuts and cracker jacks, this lot ain't nevah getting back."

 

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Susan/Circle:
Papelbon spends the entire week checking on his family and friends, his Godmothah is homeless, his Novembah wedding hotel undah watah, and he comes in with poise, aggression, and ahm action to work a dynamic 8th.

 

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Mike:
No mattah how bad the situation, one can't give up on baseball.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Baseball represents America. And America represents hope.

 

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Mike:
Today is the day the day things staht to get bettah for the victims of Hurricane Katrina, the rally has begun.

 

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Susan/Circle:
All it takes is for one good thing to lead to anothah good thing … down but nevah, evah out.

 

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The King and I

Steve:
Well that was a pleasant blast from the past, two homers from Millar.

 

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Doug:
It's gotta be the orange yellow hair dye job.

 

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Steve:
Yeah, he finally broke The Curse of the Queerinos … you know he's been slumping ever since his Queer Eye makeover.

 

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Doug:
Absolutely. Save the back waxes and pedicures for the off season.

 

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Steve:
I think Foulke should try the dye job for good luck. Can't hurt at this point.

 

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Doug:
I wish I could buy into the logic of, "Hey, I totally sucked at the Single-A level, but, it'll be different with better lighting and a better background."

 

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Steve:
I just hope Foulke doesn't start insulting Burger King workers again, because after seeing the King haul ass in those NFL Sunday Ticket commercials, I'm convinced he could lay down a serious Keith whooping.

 

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Doug:
Absolutely, And the King looks like one sadistic son-of-a-bitch, too, a real keep kicking you when your down motherfuckah.

 

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Steve:
You know it. Why do you think we don't see much of Ronald McDonald these days? The King fucked that clown up real good.

 

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Doug:
Yeah, well, even the King can only hold so much pickle before he needs to act out his pent up aggression.

 

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