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Your omniscient author in absentia:
The Soxaholix are on vacation and will return no later than July 3rd [Oops, make that July 5]. Go Sox!
Your omniscient author in absentia:
Update: TypePad was suppposed to autopost the above on Tuesday morning so you'd have a place to comment on new events while I was gone, but it didn't work.
Your omniscient author in absentia:
No matter because I wanted to check in to mention the 11 win streak. (This streak of course has another cool name generated by you in the comments, but I dare not mention it for fear of jinxing it! Unlike the characters, I still have my superstitions.)
Your omniscient author in absentia:
Meanwhile, my "Be Dan Shaughnessy" faux piece can be found here at BSMW: The House on Mango Street." If any of you (Bob?) have one over there, please leave the link in the comments so I can check it out. OK, Now I'm back to vacation… Go Sox!
Mike:
The Sox have now won nine in row for the first time since Septembah of [gulp] 2004.
Bill:
Funny you should say that, as I'm getting that 2004 feeling again for the first time since, er, 2004.
Mike:
Wicked good times again.
[Note: I'm taking a spur of the moment mini-vacation and going out of town for the remainder of the week. I'll try to do a weekend catchup strip, but we'll see how that goes. — Hart]
Bill:
It's gotten to the point where his name itself carries all the meaning. Just say "Ortiz" and every Red Sox fan knows what you mean.
Mike:
Really, let the friggin Inuit people spend all their time coming up with 26 different names for snow. Around these parts we only need one word to describe a late inning storm — Ortiz!
Bill:
You know what's funny is Saturday's walkoff was his 6th with the Red Sox, but in my own head I swear I've seen at least 16.
Mike:
No kidding. Seems like I've seen 6 this month. But we must guard ourselves from getting too complacent and expecting too much from Cookie.
Mike:
But Big Papi sure does make it look easy, doesn't he?
Mike:
Reminds me, isn't it fantabulous post World Series win to no longah have to get caught up in all that jinx crap?
Bill:
Really I'm all tipping over salt shakahs, looking for laddahs to walk under …
Mike:
Are you kidding me, when I see a black cat these days, I don't think "bad luck," instead I think "A-Rod."
Mike:
Yeah, you know, being that he's a pussy and all.
Bill:
This is a great idea. Bruce at Boston Sports Media is having a "Be Dan Shaughnessy" contest, asking readahs to submit their best attempts to ape what is expected to be the CHB's column on Pedro's return to Fenway as a Met.
Mike:
Awsometastic. You should so entah, guy.
Bill:
Are you kidding me? Between watching the Sox and my addiction to internet porn, I don't have time for that shit. Besides you're the bettah writah.
Mike:
It's tempting. I mean if I can somehow manage to peel my eyes away from the 1-nil excitement that is World Cup soccer, I may be able to bang out something suitably Shaughnastyastic.
Bill:
You'd have to make reference to one or all of the following, of course: Babe Ruth, Harry Frazee, the Curse.
Mike:
Without question. And I suspect I'd want to bring in one of Dan's most reliable historical riffs — The Titanic, World War 1, The Summer of Love, The Kennedys …
Bill:
What about tone. You think his Pedro returns column will be of the nasty, "piece of filth" Shaughnessy style or will he opt for the happy-go-lucky, light-hahted attempt to be humorous bit?
Mike:
You know, the revisionist history stuff making it seem like he'd always been a real supporter of Pedro, you know, never ever written a disparaging word about Petey.
Bill:
Right, right. And his thesis will be along the lines of "Oh, you poor unwashed, unsophisticated, Boston fan fools. You drove Pedro away with your mean Puritanical spirits and the terrible things you said about him. I tried to warn you."
Mike:
Well there's that, but I don't suspect Shaughnessy can resist the urge to go with a multi-front attack that will hit both the fans and Sox management concurrently.
Bill:
So it'll be "You Boston fans think you're intelligent but you are really dumb asses. You drank the boy genius' Kool-Aid and allowed this greedy, filthy lucre front office to break up the Championship team and send Pedro out the door with an ungrateful kick to his poor, Dominican ass. Now, cretins, reap what you sow!"
Mike:
Yep. That's my gut. And think about it. Look how easily he can swap the "They broke up the 2004 Championship team" meme with the "Harry Frazee sold Babe Ruth!" meme.
Bill:
Well, what are you waiting for? Boot up MS-Word and get cracking.
Mike:
Heh. Just dawned on me that MS-Word and Shaughnessy have a lot in common. They're both bloated, inaccessible, and survive only because Microsoft, like the Globe, is too beholden to legacy or otherwise obtuse to realize their customers hate it and want an alternative.
Hart Brachen, strip's author:
Hey gang, I thought allergy season was over for me but I just had a massive sneezing attack and my head feels like it has been pressurized with Marshmallow Fluff and my eyes are so itchy I can barely read a computer screen.
Hart Brachen:
Other than that, life is wicked good. I mean back to back sweeps?! Are you friggin kidding me?
Hart Brachen:
For the first time I can remember, I'm actually loving interleague play.
Mike:
You know because he throws the floaty-dopey fluttah, it's easy to forget just how ballsy Tim Wakefield is.
Steve:
No kidding his pitches may float in like a paper airplane, but Wake's just as fucking nails mentally as any 98 mph flamethrowah stud.
Mike:
Absolutely. I mean that bases loaded, no outs situation in the 6th last night was the gutsiest pitching I've seen all season from a Sox startah.
Steve:
He hits a guy then walks a run in but never flinches, never breaks a sweat. Then it's S.O. swinging, S.O. swinging, and a pop out to end the inning. Totally fantabulous.
Steve:
Seriously, there hasn't been that much Boston action in Washington since Barney Frank fired his "houseboy."
Steve:
Heh. I love the guy's premise: "to keep those New Yorkers in New York, and keep them away from our Boston girls." But I'm a little gun shy about the whole online matching thingy.
Mike:
Had some bad experiences?
Mike:
Ooh. Scary, dude, very scary.
Doug:
Christ I saw this Snyder kid take the mound for the first time and I was like holy fuck is that Bronson Arroyo after a couple mega doses of human growth hormone?
Bill:
Yeah, everyday I'm looking at anothah fresh new face, anothah peach fuzzed AAA kid. I totally feel like a MySpace perv.
Bill:
Because Kaplah's a total effin A+ gamah.
Doug:
Kap's got the blood of Moses in him, totally kicks Pharaoh's mascara wearing, pyramid loving, sissy ass.
Bill:
Even if Pharaoh's name is "Ditka," Kaplah would still give him the Hebrew burning bush beat down.
Doug:
And talk about two-fers. With guys like Kap, Youks, and Epstein you can root for the Red Sox and piss off the anti-semite, Holocaust-denying jihadist nut jobs all at the same time.
Mike:
Now as for not even knowing the meaning of the verb "to choke" I offah you one Jonathan Papelbon …
Susan:
Holy Shiloh Jolie-Pitt the Mississippi kid's got 'nads of no, not steel, steel is for pussies, no, not titanium, not even close, this kid's got 'nads of armah piehcing depleted uranium I tell you the fucking what.
Mike:
Last night in Hotlanta Timlin leaves Paps with two men on, but no sweat, right? One pitch and out. Un-buh-lievable dot com.
Susan:
This morning I'm happiah than Britney Spears with a box of twinkies and a fresh pack of Salems.
Susan/Circle:
Yeah, well, in the spirt of homegirl Sarah Silverman I say, every time an angel interferes with an Ortiz homer, the angel gets AIDS. Full blown AIDs.
Susan/Circle:
Why's it always got to be June anyway when the Red Sox fall to shit? I mean June is like the perfect month.
Mike:
The weather finally settles in good, kids get out of school for the summer, up and down the coast the fried clam and ice cream shacks are unshuttered …
Susan/Circle:
The humpback in his small, washed cottage, under the spokes of the clematis … The chimneys of the city breathe, the window sweats …
Mike:
And there's the Red Sox taking a collective piss all ovah it year aftah year aftah year.
Continue reading "Pass the smelling salts" »
Bill:
Christ, seems like every couple of weeks I need to reminded what a tough friggin game this is.
Bill:
And, yeah, yeah, I know the fan managing the team from his or her living room couch thing can get old, but is there a single Sox fan from Bangor to Bakersfield who felt comfortable when Batshit Tavarez came into the game?
Doug:
I tell you what, if there's evah a celebrity Survivor and Tito is in your tribe, bitches need to make an alliance with him on day fucking one because he'll stick with your ass no mattah what a total fuckup losah you really are.
Bill:
Yeah you could be all losing the fishing hook and letting the fiah go out and getting lost looking for watah and Tito would be all, "Fuck, yeah, man, me and you are going to the final two!"
Doug:
I can't take an entiah summah of this. I just can't.
Bill:
Well, why couldn't Gathright have gone all Uma in Kill Bill and given him some sort of ancient Chinese secret cripple-your-ass-for-life blink and you'll miss it blow to or about the head?
Doug:
God damn those martial arts fucks and their so-called "emotional control."
Doug:
Thank Mohammed because I know I can only go so long without getting that sense of righteousness and 1st Amendment giddiness that only comes with seeing a bunch of doughy, middle-aged white guys exposing their genitalia.
Mike:
Seriously, nothing says "freedom" and "speak truth to power" quite like an old dude's shriveled nut sack.
Mike:
I know I've seen the Kansas City Royals put up more of a fight than that.
Doug:
You'd think that being 0 for forevah on European soil would, you know, provide some motivation and shit.
Mike:
Yeah, well, just wait until next quadrennial.
Doug:
Absolutely. 2010 is gonna be our year, bitches.
Mike:
Yeah, well, I can't help but look at the Texas series as a whole and not feel so good …
Mike:
We were sanguine in the face of dropping 2 of 3 to the Yankees in the Bronx. But dropping 2 of 4 to the Rangers in Fenway right aftah?
Mike:
You've got melancholic in my sanguine.
Steve:
Hopefully the Sox can get some groove on against the struggling Twinks at the always joyless Metrogloam.
Mike:
But before that even, maybe the US National Team can surprise the #2 ranked in the world Czech Republic and put some zing in my day.
Mike:
Let's hear it for the old guys, Schilling and the Cap'n salvage the series on with an awesome game.
Bill:
Yeah, and what a perfect place for that twosome to bring it on. Are there any two Red Sox who elicit as much revulsion by Yankees fans than Schill and Tek?
Mike:
Yeah, it doesn't erase the memory of the first two games or the fact that we trail the Yankees in the standings, but it sure as hell helps.
Bill:
You know what also helps? A-Rod was 0-for-4 in the game, 1-for-11 in the series.
Bill:
I love Schilling. He's got that "it" factah, you know? Even when he's not 100%, you know he's going to chew the tinfoil and do his damndest to take it to the hittahs.
Mike:
That's what Pedro had, too. Remember that playoff game against the Indians in 9'9 when Petey was all half-dead from the flu but came in as a relievah and no-hit the Tribe for 6 innings?
Bill:
One of the gutsiest athletic performances I've evah witnessed and it rivals the "bloody sock" game for all-time Red Sox pitching feats.
Bill:
Well, I miss the 1999 version of Pedro and the current Mets remix of Pedro, but the sullen, bitchy, mango tree branch up his ass "the Yankees are my Daddy" version? Not so much.
Bill:
I think that's bullshit revisionist history, personally. I don't mean that, yeah, it would have been way better, in hindsight to lock up Pedro before 2004, but I don't buy the "took care of Schilling" angle as some quid pro quo negative.
Bill:
Has Simmons forgotten 2003? We had to have a front line starter like Schilling to augment the staff. Especially with Pedro's ongoing shoulder issues and the ubiquitous time on the DL.
Mike:
Still feels like a bad divorce to me.
Mike:
Not too much pressure on the rookie, eh?
Another mid-week interruption to the flow of the season after the wash out last night. Of course, we could discuss Jason Grimsley and what impact this might have on another Jason whose last name also starts with a G, but, you know, there's nothing funny about human growth hormone …
Doug:
Ding dong Zarqawi's dead, another jihadist nutjob's dead.
Doug:
Seriously, what was he thinking with that ensemble? Dude, you represent the Axis of Evil for fuck's sake. C'mon dress like you mean it.
Mike:
Yeah, you don't try to take over the world wearing old lady mall walkah sneakahs. You gotta represent and shit.
Mike:
Yeah, it's a look that says, "Listen up, bitches, I ain't playin' by your rules."
Doug:
Yeah, it's subtle. Not an in your face nutjob kind of thing but a more of a Cool Hand Luke or Vegas card shark look which fits his M.O. totally.
Mike:
Right his look is all "What me build a bomb? Get out. I'm just looking for an alternative to fossil fuels for energy, you know? C'mon let's go hit the hookah and cruise the bar for easy, infidel chicks."
Doug:
Who and the frig names their kid "Melky" anyway? Jeez.
Mike:
Well, fate seems to have once again returned to conspiring against the Red Sox. David Pauley pitches the game of his life but we still lose 2-1.
Doug:
Yeah, what the frig you gonna do? What is, is — for the past two games the Yankees have simply been the bettah team. Perhaps the Yankees are the bettah team overall? Whatev. Have to keep rooting the good guys just the same.
Mike:
Yeah, it's pretty simple isn't it? Like the song says, "Root root for the home team, if they don't win it's a shame."
Doug:
Sucks to lose two straight to the Spankees. Sucks to be in the unenviable position of having to win the next two to even it out, but c'est la vie, you know?
Doug:
In the end, even getting swept by the Yankees is "just a shame" and definitely not "just an opportunity to question the cosmos and put in a call to Dr Kevorkian."
Doug:
There is food enough and rent enough and time enough.
Mike:
Down stairways march great men smiling.
Doug:
Bums wear diamonds on their fingahs.
Continue reading "You can't pretend to feel worse than you really do." »
Bill:
So much for the Y-AAA-nkees, eh?
Mike:
Yeah, all they need is for the remaindah of their season-opening stahtahs to go on the DL so they can go on to win 110 games with their minor league callups.
Bill:
Who the fuck has been doing these craptastic scouting reports on the Yankees farm system and telling us "it's empty, devoid of talent," the CIA? I mean talk about lousy intel.
Mike:
No kidding, if the spooks in Chantilly are still looking for Iraq's missing WMD, try underneath the clubhouse at Trenton Thunder or Columbus Clippers.
Bill:
Meanwhile, how appropriate is it that on the eve of 6-6-6 we were taken into the bowels of Hell and bedeviled by Johnny Damien and his minions.
Bill:
Yeah, and who knew reading Josh Beckett's stats would be akin to reading apocalyptic literature?
Mike:
Yeah, every time Beckett gives up another armageddon long ball, I feel totally fucking Left Behind.
Mike:
The forecast calls for locusts.
Lisa the Temp:
Hi, I'm Lisa, and I'll be your temp today.
Lisa the Temp:
I trust that has some sort of meaning for you fans of the crotch-grabbing borefest you call baseball.
Lisa the Temp:
Experience working with technology from the 80s. Check. Thrives at meaningless tasks while under surreptitious surveillance. Check. I'm so going to love working at Hanso. Namaste, bitches!
Doug:
This tarnishing of the City of New York's "Mystique and Aura" status is truly heinous, which is why, being the compassionate guy that I am …
Bill:
Oh, boy, here we go …
Doug:
Listen, guy, let me tell you something — compassion nevah goes out of style. So, even while I'm a proud Bostonian, I'm not going to let something as "trivial" as a baseball rivalry stand in the way of doing, you know, the right thing and all.
Bill:
Absolutely. I mean priorities and all …
Bill:
You're a helluva a guy.
Doug:
Hey, when it comes to national security, there's nothing to joke about.
Mike:
A-Gon's defense is incredible. The plays he makes, I see 'em but I still can't believe 'em.
Steve:
Meanwhile, I know Wily Mo Pena was never intended to help the team this year, as he's all about the future, but, still, his wrist injury in gonna hurt us in the present.
Mike:
Even more troubling, that's the kind of injury that can totally screw up a hittah permanently.
Steve:
Man, what a tough fucking game this is.
Mike:
Yeah, everything is lining up for a classic June swoon.
Steve:
It's times like this when 2004's success absolutely humbles me. I mean, it's just so difficult to have everything fall into place like that.
Mike:
Dude, you're not tossing in the towel on '06 already are you?
Steve:
No way. I mean back in the wintah, who could have foreseen Jonathan Papelbon's emergence as closer extrodinairre? A team best ever 19 consecutive saves to start the season?
Mike:
Absolutely, there's still so much possibility. Crisp is back. Wells is probably going to be OK. And then there's Lester being primped and preened for a late summer call up.
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