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After today, The Soxaholix will be on hiatus until the first week of January.
Merry Christmas everyone!
Mike:
OK, so are we ready for the talent portion at today's company Christmas Pahty.
Al:
My pahts are memorized and ready.
Doug:
Are you kidding me? I've been ready since 420 yestahday.
Mike:
OK. But let's run through it one more time.
Mike:
Remember to the tune of "Feed the World"
Anda-one, anda-two...
Doug:
♪
It's Hot Stove Time, there's no need to be afraid
At Hot Stove Time, Theo gets it right with the updgrades
♫
Al:
♪
And with our Sox of plenty, we can spread a smile of joy
Throw your arms around the world at Hot Stove Time
♫
Mike:
♪ ♪
But say a prayer, Pray for the other ones
Hot Stove Time it's hard, but when we're having fun
♪
Doug:
♪
There's a world down I-95,
And it's a world of dread and fear
♫
Al:
♪♪
Where the only words flowing
Are all bittah rants and jeers
♪
Mike:
♪
And the Hot Stove bells that ring there
Are the clanging chimes of doom
♪ ♪
Doug:
Well thank John Henry it's them instead of you!
♫
Al:
♪
And there won't be headlines in New York this Hot Stove Time
Because the one guy that they did sign
♪♪♪
Mike:
♪
Well, he has a busted hip
And Cliff just gave the flip
♫♫
Doug:
♫ ♪
Do they know it's Hot Stove Time at all?
♫
Mike:
Raise a glass for Carl and A-Gon
♫
Doug:
♪
Here's to them in the Bronx,
all come undone
♫
Al:
♪♪
Do they know it's Hot Stove Time at all?
♫
Mike:
♪
Feed the Sox
Let them know it's Boston's time again
♫
Doug:
♪
Feed the Sox
Let them know it's Boston's time again
♪
Al:
♪
Feed the Sox
Let them know it's Boston's time again
♫
Doug:
OK, now that the Yankees have signed Russell Mahtin, can we officially call the hot stove season closed and move on to the execrable, plodding, watching icicles melt wait for Truck Day?
Bill:
Absolutely. I was nevah especially enthused by Mahtin anyway.
Doug:
Lingahring fears about his hip.
Bill:
No, I really think it was his name. I mean "Russell Mahtin" just doesn't have ballplayah ring to it.
Doug:
Seriously. Russell Mahtin sounds more like that guy at the car dealahship they send you to for the upsell.
Bill:
Heh. I can just see the trip to the mound:
"OK, this guy can't hit anything inside... And, today only, I've got a deal on rustproofing that only a fool would pass up. If I could just get your initials right here..."
Doug:
And I can't wait to hear Yankees fans try this one out:
"We didn't get Crawford. We didn't get Lee. But Russell Fucking Mahtin is in the House! Mystique and Aura, Bitches!"
Al:
This wintah just gets bettah and bettah...
Doug:
♪♫♪
Cliff Lee spurned the Yanks,
Cliff Lee spurned the Yanks,
Hi-ho, the derry-o
Cliff Lee spurned the Yanks.
♪♫♪
Mike:
$30 fucking million left on the table. Beautiful.
Mike:
The beer cup tips
The remains of Yank fan angst
Look! There goes Cliff Lee.
Mike:
Wait, wait, wait... hold up.
Mike:
Carl Demonte Crawford is not just literate, oh, no, dude is such a bibliophile that he plans to open his own bookstore?
Mike:
But wait, there's more, he doesn't just want to open any old book store but an antiquarian bookstore??
Susan/Circle:
Seriously, dude, when I first saw that in my Google Red Sox alert I just assumed it was an Onion story.
Mike:
WTF. There's "truth is strangah than fiction" and then there's this.
Mike:
I mean C-Craw is so into the whole Puritan thing that he taped a passage from the first page of Plymouth Plantation inside his high school football helmet?
Susan/Circle:
And he can still quote it today!
Mike:
My nipples are hahd.
Susan/Circle:
Yeah, it's all tungsten tips ovah heah.
Doug:
I'm so friggin lucky I can ignore all this awfulness in the world and instead bask in the warm glow the Red Sox spending spree.
Mike:
I mean talk about your vision of dancing sugah plum fairies.
Mike:
Dude, that's low even for you. Give the guy a break.
Mike:
Besides, it's Decembah. Let's see how Ells is doing come Mahch.
Doug:
I can't wait for Mahch.
Mike:
Are you friggin kidding me?
'04 + '07 = '11.
Doug:
Somebody call up Bob Cratchit and tell him to get Tiny Tim the fuck ovah to Yawkey Way because they're passing out enough holiday cheer to cure the rickets.
Doug:
7 years? Who the fuck cares about 7 years from now? I'm too busy making room on my DVD shelf for anothah World Series set.
Al:
Seriously, in 7 years we'll be crushed under the unsustainable weight of the national deficit, the Chinese will own MLB, and zombies will roam freely.
Doug:
Hey, just because Derek Jetah will turn 44 during the 2018 season, that's no reason to call him a zombie.
Doug:
And you've gotta love this sentiment: Theo and the gang outbid everyone for A-Gon and Crawford while the Yankees outbid themselves to sign a shortstop that everyone else would have offered $5mil for one year, oh, and with the provision that he moves to third or to the DH position.
Mike:
You guys are going to have to excuse me — I need to go call my doctah about an erection lasting longah than 4 hours.
Your omniscient author in absentia:
No strip today as I'm otherwise occupied first thing this morning.
And by occupied I mean, of course, that it's time for my annual physical and blood work at the doc's office.
Or if you prefer the lyrical version:
♪♫
Joy to the World,
Probe of the bum!
Let Doc perceive your things
♫♪
Al:
Tom Brady doesn't hook up with fugs. And Tom Brady doesn't lose to the Jets.
Doug:
Attention, school is now in session and headmastah Bill Bellichick is..., er, headmastahring.
Mike:
Now that was what you call an old-fashioned ass whooping.
Doug:
Yeah, aftah a molestation like that, this morning some the Jets must be feeling dirty. (Sanchez?)
Al:
You know, as much as I love baseball, there is nothing quite like the anticipation and then delivery of a Monday Night gridiron thrashing.
Mike:
That's just it. As the guy on that Bill James panel said*, "Football is event programming," while baseball is something else altogethah, something daily, eternal...
Doug:
And you can't really compare one to othah, apples to oranges, kumquats to durians.
Mike:
And the truest statement of all?
"Baseball is absolutely nevah bettah in any era than it is when you are 10 years old. And when you are 10, baseball is perfect."
Al:
Which explains why we love it so much. We are each of us still 10-year olds at heart.
Doug:
Seriously. Heard any good faht jokes lately?
Al:
No, but there's this...
Tom Brady, Mahk Sanchez, and a donkey walk into a bah...
*[Hat tip to Dave Pinto for the link – h.b.]
Bill:
Ah, be careful around the stove because it's hot!
Doug:
Nothing like an early December pressah to announce a blockbustah aquisition to get one mentally adding up time 'til Truck Day.
Doug:
Are you kidding me? I'm happiah than Julian Assange with a tube of lube and a doomsday document.
Bill:
This is the biggest thing since signing Manny.
Doug:
"Who gives Red Sox certainty at virtually every position on the diamond for at least the next five years."
Bill:
Now let's go get a middle-relievah and really turn up the heat.
Doug:
With this on top of the Jetah talk, we are definitely veering toward Bearded Spock territory.
Mike:
But not quite. Yanks still get Mariano, we still get Paps.
Doug:
In the bearded, alternative, opposite universe does Papelbon's IQ actually break 100?
Mike:
Absolutely not. I mean we're talking sci-fi rules not fantasy. There has to be some grounding in science in reality.
Doug:
It would fuck up the entire universe.
Mike:
Seriously. Jetah goes to the Red Sox and the next thing you know you wake up and find out Barack Obama and Sarah Palin have been secretly doing the nasty.
Al:
Heh.
"Who's your Daddy Grizzly?"
Doug:
Yeah, it's like, Craw-dude, you're an outfieldah fercrissakes not a Supreme Court Justice.
