Al:
With all due respect to Clay Buchholz and yet anothah dominant performance and honest to goodness run at the Cy Young, I'd like to begin today with a melodramatic yet earnest tip o' the cap to Mike Lowell.
Doug:
As someone born and raised in the town named for Mike Lowell, I second that emotion.
Mike:
Lowell is etched in the annals of Boston glory as one of only two men who have won a World Series MVP award while wearing a Red Sox uniform.
Al:
His 2007 season was up there with some of the best Red Sox third base seasons of all time.
Doug:
Makes it all the more poignant how swift has been the decline.
Mike:
That which we are, we are; / One equal temper of heroic hearts, / Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will / To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.* å
Doug:
Yeah, well, hold on to those good thoughts as you may need them come Novembah when the trees are stripped bare and the Yankees are getting a tickah tape parade down Broadway.
Your omniscient author in absentia:
Looks like my turn for a random injury...
Woke up yesterday with a really bad stiff neck and all the discomfort that goes with it, but figured I'd be better as the day went on and certainly better the next morning.
Well, no luck. Pain got worse not better and and even taking one of my wife's post-surgery pain meds last night had no effect. Barely slept, and this morning I have even less range of movement and moments of acute pain seem to be triggered by no discernible pattern of movement.
Mike:
So 9-game homestand about to commence... the must have is 6 but 7 would be nice.
Doug:
It's doable.
Mike:
And you know, despite the disappointment of the most recent road trip, going 5-5 in one of the toughest pahts of the entiah schedule isn't so bad at all.
Doug:
With that 10 game nastiness behind us, chasing the Rays is easiah today than it was before the road trip.
Your omniscient author in absentia:
The best thing about doing Soxaholix for fun is that I can have the occassional day where I just confess that I've got nothing.
Today is one of those days.
Meanwhile, the e-book project I spoke of before has fallen a bit behind schedule but it's still going to happen this year.
Mike:
OMFG Bahd coming in for Lestah with the bases loaded and one out in the 7th and not just fanning but friggin going absolutely Dyson Air Multipliah on Jetah and Swish-then-rinse on 6 pitches?!
Bill:
The pitch he threw to get Swishah was a 99-mph two-seam sinking fastball that broke down and away and away and away.
Marty:
Well, Bill, are you ready for the opening of the summer's most anticipated blockbuster -- Boston Massacre, The Sequel?
Marty:
It' in 3-D!
Bill:
Jeez, I dunno, Mahts, the way Jetah is lumbering around in the slot it feels a lot more like watching a George Romero film, "Bronx of the Living Dead."
Marty:
That's ironic coming from a team that'll be starting Mike Lowell.
Bill:
Yeah, Mahty, the same Mike Lowell the Yankees coveted but couldn't have because Lowell would rathah retiah than play in the PrickStripes.
Marty:
My, my, it's surprising how much hubris you can generate when you're 6 games back and fading.
Bill:
Think about it Mahty, since our last meeting the Triple-A fielding Red Sox have gone 42-27 and the vaunted $206 million dollar Yankees have gone, wait for it...
42-26.
Bring on the sad trombone,
Waah Wah Wah Waaaaaaah ♫
Bill:
Oh, and then there's those pesky Rays, right, Mahts, $206 million gets you half a game ovah Tampa Bay?!
Bill:
I know we're in a recession and all, Mahts, but who knew money would have so little value, eh?
Marty:
OK, Callaghan, let's see how your trombone is doing come Monday morning, something tells me you're going to playing a rusty one.
Al:
So with the Rays now in first and the Yankees slumping, is New York now the team to beat for the wildcahd?
Mike:
One game at a time.
Mike:
But with that mandadory disclaimah out of the way, for once I think this weekend's Red Sox v New York series is actually worthy of the hype leading into it.
Al:
A Red Sox sweep and and all of a sudden RSN is popping collective wood. A Yankees sweep and, well, can you say shrunken gourd?
Doctor:
However, Timmy, we've run every test, we done every scan known to medical science, indeed, we've done enough to turn this into an episode of House.
Doctor:
Hah. Hah Hah.
Doctor:
But the bottom line is we can find nothing wrong with you, Timmy, nothing at all.
Doctor:
You know, Timmy, sometimes in life you just have to suck it up. Do you know what I mean?
Timmy (getting head wrapped):
-----
Doctor:
I know you're a big Red Sox fan, Timmy, so perhaps it'd be helpful for you to see yourself as a bit of Dirt Dog, you know, Timmy, and really gutsy gamer.
Doctor:
So who is your favorite player, Timmy?
Timmy (getting head wrapped):
----
Doctor:
Timmy, I asked you a question, please answer.
Timmy (getting head wrapped):
[Garbled] Fuck you Doctah Cunty.
Doctor:
What did you just say young man!?
Timmy (getting head wrapped):
I said, "Jacoby Ellsbury."
Timmy (getting head wrapped):
My favorite player is Jacoby Ellsbury.
Doug:
Don't' get me wrong, I loves me some Bob Ryan and all...
Doug:
But when Ryan writes, "The Sox faithful must be disappointed that the trade deadline passed without a big deal," I'm like "Wha?"
Doug:
I mean maybe I just don't have my fingahs on the same pulse of Red Sox faithful that Ryan does, but it seems to be the post trading deadline gestalt can be summed up as one of acceptance.
Doug:
Yeah, well, if you want to talk about disappointment now that the Clinton-Mezvinsky wedding is in the books, my life is going to be so fucking empty without the nonstop pre-nuptial media barrage.
Mike:
But just think, one day years from now you'll always be able to say, "I remembah exactly what I was doing on that momentous day in American history when the stars aligned ovah Rhinebeck, NY!"
