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Mike:
Yeah, I'm so glad Frank Deford lays a schoolin' on us about baseball history … Only thing is Babe Ruth didn't leave the Red Sox of his own volition to chase the biggah bucks. No, he was sold, totally out of his control, but, you know, why let something as trivial as facts get in your way when you're trying to make a biggah point for your column.
Doug:
Meanwhile, if a schmuck bloggah wrote that he or she would be immediately corrected by a half dozen readahs within minutes of posting. But, you know, blogs have no ovahsight or anything, unlike the pros with their layahs of fact checking and editahs and shit.
Mike:
Yeah, I think it's gonna happen. The more the Orioles front office insists there is "no deal they find acceptable," the more I'm convinced it will happen.
Doug:
I've finally reached the emotional spot where I actually hope it happens.
Mike:
I thought you said Manny was your favorite playah and you'd go on a hungah strike if he were evah traded?
Doug:
I did, but I can no longah take the daily psychological stress of wondahring whethah he'll stay or go. It's killing me. It's like when I was dating that hot chick from the Cayman Islands, remembah her?
Mike:
Leila? Ohmigod that chick was wicked supah fine!
Doug:
Yeah, an 11 on a scale of 10, but that's just it … whenevah we'd be out and I'd go to the bathroom or something I'd come back and find her surrounded by 5 dudes all chatting her up and she'd be totally lovin' the attention.
Doug:
I knew it wasn't a question of if she'd cuckold me, but when. I couldn't take the fucking presshah of it all, so I had to choice but to trade her for lessah prospects. And that's where I'm at with Manny. I adore the guy. He's the 2nd greatest hittah evah to don the red stockings, but I can't take it anymoah.
Happy New Year everyone. Next strip: Tuesday, January 3, 2006. - H.B.
Continue reading "The preemptive breakup" »
Bill:
Absolutely. I mean this is the same fan base that weathahed such catastrophes as the loss of Cahlton Fisk, the loss of Wade Boggs, the loss of Rogah Clemens yet it's the loss of Johnny Damon, Johnny Fucking Damon that has some of us running fah covah and speaking of the Apocalypse?
Doug:
Seriously, at this rate I half expect this summah to find a bunch of Red Sox fans shivahring on a beach in Maine complaining the water's too cold to swim in. "Oooh. It's cold. My nuts will shrink. Boo hoo." Fercrissakes, people, are we not New Englandahs? Do we not thrive undah adverse conditions?
Bill:
Whatevah the fuck happened to the "Wait until next yeah" spirit? This is the same Red Sox Nation that went head held high for 86 seasons of "not good enough"? These are the same fans who rathah than being conquered aftah the 7th game of the 2003 ALCS entahed the 2004 season with an unshakable optimism?
Doug:
Now it's all "We don't have a centahfieldah. We don't have a shohtstop. It's only Decembah but it's so ovah. Fuck it. Bring on that good night because I'm frail and gentle and shit."
Bill:
Who knew that finally winning a World Series would turn us so soft.
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls … Merry Christmas!
Rider on Green Line:
Let nothing you dismay …
Next update: Weds., Dec 28
Susan:
I don't know, it's not like the Bahd envisioned 15th Century Verona as a walk in the pahk eithah … I mean we just lost a centahfieldah to our sworn rivals is all, you know, no swordplay, no poison, no suicides (well, not yet at least), no deflowering of our only daughter and bearah of the family line …
Mike:
Yeah, but at least Juliet was emotionally tormented before she leaped to the othah side. Something tells me Johnny Damon didn't stand on his balcony speaking to the moon and wondahring what's in a name.
Susan:
Yeah, who knew in Johnny O nature didst bower the spirit of a fiend?
Mike:
You think we'll evah grow weary of this blood feud with the Yankees?
Susan:
You mean like we'll see what a scourge is laid upon our hate? Not a friggin' chance.
Mike:
A plague o'both our houses? Oh yeah, double that again.
Susan:
Talk of peace? I hate the word, as I hate hell, all Yankees, and, now, Johnny.
Continue reading "Give me my long sword, ho!" »
Deep in the bowels of Gotham, our old nemesis Marty and another of his ilk are waxing rhapsodic …
Marty:
Are you lovin' this or what?
Unknown Yankees fan:
What can I say? Johnny Damon as player? Eh, he'll do. But Johnny Damon as the former face of [cough] Red Sox Nation turning his back on the molasses mob to become one of a long line of Pinstripes and the Greatest Franchise in the History of All Sport? Fucking beautiful.
Unknown Yankees fan:
Doing fine on both counts as of right now. With Damon leading off, our roster is a juggernaut. And if you listen really hard, you can hear the cries of anguish coming down from 95 North … As their suicide bitch poet laureate would say, "Roped in at the end by the one Death with its many sticks."
Unknown Yankees fan:
They say, "Oh, in two years you'll be in the same situation as with Bernie — overpaying for a aging center fielder." I say, so the fuck what? We'll buy another one.
Marty:
I love it when the Yankees overpay. It's a giant fuck you to the Red Sox. Four years and 52 million? I get wood when I hear it.
Unknown Yankees fan:
Yeah, I just wish our beloved owner, a king among kings, would hire that shit for brains "lets replace Pedro with Wade Miller" local hero boy Theo Epstein as a consultant for the Yanks and snuff out their pathetic little dreams of his return. Waa waah wah.
Marty:
Yeah, what's the milquetoast little mantra from Yawkey Gay Way, "We can't outspend the Yankees, so we have to spend 'smahtah.'" Well, if this is their "smahtah," heaven help the poor putzes in their "Yankees Suck" shirts.
Unknown Yankees fan:
CLAP, CLAP, CLAPCLAPCLAP, BoSox bitches!!!
Continue reading "Eating your own garbage" »
Bill:
Well, I think the doctah finally got my dosage right, as I'm not feeling badly at all ovah this.
Doug:
You must be fucking high or something … The Yankees now have the most potent lineup in MLB and, at this point, who the fuck is going to play centah?
Bill:
Look, wasn't the lesson learned from last yeah one of you can't go deep into the playoffs just on offense? So the Yankers got a great leadoff man, but have they improved their pitching at all so fah? I don't think so.
Doug:
But seeing JD all towing the fascist line, clean shaven, crew cut … Christ, my mind can't handle it. My man love for Johnny has had its mouth stuffed with a dishrag and lies murdahed in a dirty bathtub.
Bill:
Ah, yes, sucks that he's going to the Yankees, of course, but, on the othah hand, it just makes the rivalry all the more fun. Besides, my gut says the NY fans nevah wahm to Damon's antics and they'll come to rue this signing … maybe not in 2006, but by 2007? 2008? Oh, yes, most def.
Doug:
Man, can I have the name of your doctah? I need that shit you're on.
Bill:
Look, grasshoppah, when A-Rod went to the Yankees they were going to be invincible, right? Didn't happen. When Randy Johnson went to the Yankees they were for certain going to be unstoppable, right? Well, not so much, that. So Johnny Damon going to the Yankees is going to be the final piece that takes them to the promised land? Whatev. I'll take the money saved and the pitching improvements we made.
Doug:
Christ, spare me the passive aggressive melodrama.
Mike:
Two words that should nevah be used in the same sentence: bloggah and revenue model.
Doug:
Bloggahs discussing making money from blogging is like watching a piss pahty at a midget fahm.
Mike:
If you want to make a living on the web and your only skill is pomposity then you have two choices: porn or porn.
Doug:
Absolutely. Even the lowly tug job video will make more sweet moolah in a day than all the baseball blogs in the world combined make in a month.
Mike:
And talk about your low barrier for entry, for a standard first person crank yank all you need is a camcorder and a dextrous slut (wearing glasses and prone to giggling, preferably).
Doug:
And if somebody says, "Well, isn't that shallow, empty, and degrading?" I say, "Exactly. Just like blogging 'cept you get paid to do it!"
Continue reading "Great money. Flexible hours." »
Mike:
Well, not a bad weekend at all considering it's Decembah …
Bill:
Absolutely. While I nevah felt Nomah swinging on the first pitch and popping up to the shallow infield would have made the Yankees a bettah team, still it would have been a real gut check having to watch Nomah slapping Jetah's ass and shit.
Mike:
Was it really just two years ago that Nomah turned his hooked nose up at the Red Sox 60 mil offah?
Bill:
Unbelievable isn't it? Guy goes from thinking he's God's gift to baseball to being shopped around like Aunt Millie's holiday fruit cake in the span of two seasons.
Mike:
Yeah, and Mia Hamm still ain't preggahs. Whithah Nomah?
Whenever a player from "The Team" leaves, one feels a distinct melancholy and nostalgia, but with certain players, the feelings are more intense …
Doug thinking to himself:
Jeez, not only was Mueller a great hittah and third baseman and a critical paht of the Championship Team, but off hand I can't think of anothah playah who spent three seasons in Boston and nevah once made an asanine, controversial, or stupid comment to the media.
Doug thinking to himself:
I'm going to miss you much, Bill Mueller … Thanks and good luck …
Bill:
And these days, Cuba is really the only country in the world that can legitimately call baseball its National Pastime. Our government's Castro obsession bordahs on the psychotic.
Mike:
I mean, yeah, I get the pahty line: Cuba is a communist country with some serious human rights issues. But, hello, China can play?
Mike:
And it's not like Hugo Chavez in Venezuela is a postah boy for democracy, but Venezuela's in.
Mike:
Yeah, you're eithah with us or against us, except, er, when you're against us but you're still with us because we're eithah scared to piss you off or you've got something we need to maintain our standard of living or both.
Bill:
Yeah, all Castro has going for him are cigahs, beaches, hot babes, and some of the world's greatest musicians. And none of that crap puts gas in the Hummah, so you're totally shit out of luck, Comrade.
Susan/Circle:
Eh, who knows where it'll end. But in the meantime, I don't mind at all getting to see a little more of Jed Hoyer … He's got a certain nerdy, Wesleyan hotness going on … makes me wanna, you know, raise his OBP a bit.
Mike:
Really? He looks a little too much like a younger Larry Lucchino for my taste, but, you know, I don't climb the Brokeback Mountain, so what do I know.
Susan/Circle:
You seen that movie yet?
Mike:
Yeah, I saw it and felt totally duped.
Susan/Circle:
Dude, don't tell me you didn't know it was gay-themed.
Mike:
Oh, I knew that all right, but they said is was about gay cowboys, but these guys weren't herding a couple thousand hooves of longhorn cattle along the fierce and daunting Chisholm Trail. No, they were watching, sheep, sheep, fercrissakes up in the mountains all la dee da and where the greatest challenge is grappling with postmodern angst.
Susan/Circle:
So you're saying they're actually sheepboys?
Mike:
Absolutely. Just because you wear a hat and ride a horse doesn't mean you're a cowboy. Christ, whatevah happen to precision in our langauge? Nowadays you can attach any arbitrary definition you want to a word and all's well.
Mike:
Oh, don't get me stahted … If you've evah eaten pizza you're eligible for the Italian team … You like Moo Shoo Pork? Well then, get your ass suited up to represent China.
Susan/Circle:
Yeah, whatev. There's only one nation I root for in baseball: Red Sox Nation.
Lisa the Temp:
Hello, yes, it's me — Lisa the Temp!
Lisa the Temp:
The Soxaholix are off getting scrod, so couldn't be with you today. Such a shame. But they left me this note to pass along …
Lisa the Temp:
"In the words of Richard Feynman always remember: 'If we want to solve a problem that we have never solved before, we must leave the door to the unknown ajar.'"
Lisa the Temp:
Crazy Red Sox fans. Never make any sense.
Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Hey, here's one for ya, A dyslexic walks into a bra …
Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Unbelievable. Not sure why exactly the shortstops on the opposing teams didn't have any difficulties with snaring the mysteriously bouncing ball in the hole, but what the frig do I know? I'm just the hot dog guy.
Doug:
But, hey, at least now Renteria's going to a place where he can be "spiritually calm" because, you know, in his own words, "God doesn't let his children get roughed up."
Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
I guess Edgah must have missed that paht where God has his only Son beaten, stabbed, tortured, crucified and left to die on a cross for three days?
Doug:
Well, you know, that shit's easy to miss because it's not like anyone evah mentions it in church or the Bible or anything.
Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Let's see … Dominican supastah playah asks to be traded then says, no, I didn't mean that, I love it right where I am. Hmmm, nevah heard that one befoah. Bet Manny is all pissed now, he had his bags all packed and everything.
Doug:
Yeah, when they told Manny Baltimore was right next to Washington he was all, "Yes! I love the West Coast. Can't wait to ask Ichiro to go to the big mall with me!"
Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
'Tis the gift to be simple …
Bill:
Christ, my head is spinning. Renteria for Marte, the numbah 1 prospect in all of MLB from a team that wrote the friggin' book on developing talent from within? The mind boggles …
Mike:
What a fantastic deal! I nevah wanted to pile it on Renteria for his incessant struggling in 05 ala Boston Dirt Dogs, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit to his being probably the biggest FA disappointment I can evah remembah.
Bill:
Yeah, the Renteria signing last year was always a bit suspect, you know trying to covah up for the loss of Pedro with an A-list free agent, but I kept waiting and hoping he'd "break out" in the next game or the one aftah that until I finally realized Renteria was a goddamn Godot. He ain't evah going to arrive.
Mike:
Well, at least not in Boston. I think he'll be fine in Atlanta and back in the NL … meanwhile, who's at short now?
Mike:
Dude, I will not bite on that Turkish Delight, it just ain't gonna happen.
Bill:
Ah, right, the cynical New Englandah angle … no joy, no dreams …
Mike:
Hey, I'm just keeping it real.
Bill:
Half the fun of the Hot Stove League is stoking the outlandish possibility … I mean, Christ, why don't we just stop calling it a Hot Stove altogether, since you know, real wood stoves just add to global warming and we're all gonna die!
Doug:
Absolutely. And personally? I love being medicated.
Bill:
Yeah, without the soothing calm of my neurotransmitter rebalance, I might, you know, wondah, and I daresay worry, who is going to catch Wake now that Belli was traded considering Wake is, what, 0-fer-umpteen without Belli?
Bill:
But, you know, instead, on my meds, I'm just taking it all in, all unemotional and shit. Sure, so I have a little sexual dysfunction now again, but what's the loss of a few bonahs heah and there anyway?
Doug:
Exactly. On the train in this morning, did I freak out that potentially every infield position playah will be new in '06?
Doug:
No, I did not. Instead I am a cute little puppy in a Pound. And, at some stops, the ridahs getting on and off the T are like people wandering through the Pound and not choosing me. At other stops they're like the Pound employees, just getting done what they need to get done. Sometimes I think, Which one of you will take me home and train me to be good? Sometimes I think, Which one of you will put me to sleep?
Bill:
Really, what more could one ask for from life?
Continue reading "Go ask Alice" »
Doug:
No kidding. Aftah he said he couldn't wait to cut his hair, shave his bead, and wash his balls "da Yankee way," I expected to read that he's sent his wife Michelle ovah to Steinbrennah's office to shine the high beams on the ol' fuckah.
Mike:
Yeah, really, whatevah it takes to play with the "class act" A-Fraud, the "the absolute best" teammate Juicy Giambi, right?
Doug:
Tell me, why the fuck is it that anytime a playah leaves the Red Sox it has to be all nasty and shit? I mean, c'mon, we know it's a business and we've come to accept that playah loyalty is mostly toward whomevah is the highest biddah, but they always have to piss all ovah us on the way, too?
Doug:
Ten years from now, when I recall Johnny Damon, I want the image of his heroic, fist raised in the air from a stretcha aftah getting knocked out to be the first thing to pop into my head not this othah, boo hoo "our team chiropractor is gone" whiney and ungracious Damon.
Mike:
Yeah, good luck with that. When I say Rogah Clemens what's the first thing you think of? -- The glaring and pointing to Duquette, right?
Doug:
Close, but for me it's the weird, pregame fondling of the Babe Ruth plaque at the Stadium …
Mike:
You know, it's the continuing series of small tragedies that send a man to the madhouse.
Bill:
If the Red Sox trade Manny Ramirez for Troy Glaus, then I wouldn't be surprised at all to also learn that the Red Sox sent their bank account info to Mr.Moses Odiaka of the credit and accounts department of the Union Bank of Nigeria because of an email they received concerning a Domicilliary account of the late Engineer Manfred Becker and his 18.5 million dollah fortune.
Bill:
Meanwhile if the Sox are just doing a rope-a-dope with all of this trade Manny talk to confuse him into thinking they did everything possible to trade him while secretly having no serious plan to trade him, well, it's working like a chahm, because I'm confused as all hell.
Bill:
It's gotta be a scam, right?
Mike:
Bettah be. If one of these "Manny in exchange for not-Manny" deals go through, it'll rival the Babe Ruth trade for infamy.
Bill:
Are you kidding me? It'll be the worst trade since our ancestahs duped the Indians into giving up their sacred land for a couple blankets, some assorted trinkets, and the introduction of venereal disease.
Mike:
Yeah, but at least Manny will be happy. That's the truly important thing in all this we that can't evah lose sight of.
Doug:
Hey, what's the "Manny Special" you're advertising?
Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Just a plain hot dog on a bun. You know, just a hot dog being a hot dog. Heh. It is what it is.
Doug:
OK, let me have a couple Big Papi's …
Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
2 all beefs with mango salsa comin' up.
Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Not a chance in hell. No way this front office is going to risk the potential negative PR fallout just on the heels of Theogate.
Doug:
Hope you're right. But I gotta say I'm getting tiahed of the "I love Boston … no, wait, I hate Boston" Manny Show, aren't you?
Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Me, naw. I appreciate his fickleness.
Doug:
Really? I figured you'd take the old school line, you know, he should be happy to be making his salary and stop whining et cetera et cetera.
Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Well, it's like Kaspar Gutman says to Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon: "I like a man who can go in either direction or none at all. You can't trust a man who's sure of himself. He's hard and brittle and runs the risk of falling apart on you."
Doug:
Yeah, kinda like what happened with Nomah. The dude was determined to be miserable, now look at him.
Continue reading "Monday, wurst day." »
Mike:
Absolutely. It's all about priorities. Finding a new GM? Resolving the Manny and Damon situations? Well, that trivial shit can take a back seat.
Susan/Circle:
Ohmigod yes. When you're a "baseball man" like Larry, you've got the for reals mad skillz to realize just how important these artifacts are.
Mike:
You know, people call him Lucky Lucchino, but truly it is we, the fans, who are the real lucky ones.
Mike:
I mean I used to think that after winning the first World Series pennant in 86 years the most important thing for the Red Sox would be to win anothah one. But only now have I seen the light and come to the realization that possessing and enshrining treasured, historically significant items from the past is the one true calling.
Susan/Circle:
You were lost; now you are found.
Susan/Circle:
We are so fucking blessed.
Continue reading "Get your beatitude, heah" »
Bill:
Jeez, second week in a row that aftah watching Lost I end up having nightmayahs about guns, watah, and being trapped in precarious, dream-spooky situations.
Tara:
Ah, you're always a good little follower of the Viennese medicine man.
Bill:
Yeah, I'm a suckah for Freudian voodooism, which is why I'm thinking Kate's horse appearance last night should be taken as straight up dream symbolism: the horse represents that which she most desiahs, freedom.
Tara:
Yes, it's a facile explanation yet one I keep coming back to myself … And though it just seems too trite, I can't help but be drawn to the idea that there is a connection between what people see or happens to them on the island and what was on their minds when the plane went down.
Bill:
Right, right. Kate was thinking of freedom. Jack of his dad. Hurley was reading his comic book with the polah beah. Charlie was jonesing for the smack. Locke wanted to walk …
Tara:
It even fits for Michael, who at that time, was thinking how he was going to rid himself of Walt.
Bill:
Oh, right, if Manny feels the fans are too aggressive in Boston, he'll really love Philly.
Tara:
It is the City of Brotherly Love after all.
Bill:
Hell, yeah, it is. I mean the fans aren't rabid, deranged, or otherwise prone to hurling batteries at playahs or anything.
Tara:
Absolutely. And Manny and his lovely wife can take comfort in the fact the Philadelphia P.D. hasn't firebombed any minority neighborhoods. Well, at least not this century.
Bill:
Manny ought to be mindful of the old adage, "Be careful what you wish for."
Tara:
Or the devil you know is better than the devil you don't.
Continue reading "Oh Philadelphia freedom shine on me (Shine a light through the eyes of the ones left behind)" »
