« April 2011 |
Main
| June 2011 »
Susan/Circle:
Yeah, besides, now that we are all aboard the bandwagon of what these guys are capable of even back to back losses are no sweat.
Susan/Circle:
Yeah, totally friggin illuminating...
Mike:
My fave quote —
"Hitting is simple. We make it complicated."
Susan/Circle:
Does that remind you of anything?
Susan/Circle:
Absolutely.
Mike:
Manny understood deeply everything Gonzalez is talking about, though, he'd never hear him lay it all out the way A-Gon does.
Susan/Circle:
Manny was 100% pure Dionysian, while A-Gon, not unlike Teddy Ballgame, has a touch of the Apollonian in him.
Bill:
Well, hullo, Mr. Crawford. Pleased to meet you at last.
Mike:
Seriously. The dude is looking like $142 million bucks these days.
Mike:
Can I get some friggin lobstah on that roll?
Bill:
Going into Memorial Day weekend and feeling pretty damn good.
Mike:
Yeah, "it results from being bombarded with friend tallies, status updates, and photos of people happy, having the time of their lives, when you are not."
Bill:
OK, so let me get this straight...
Bill:
Kids today live in a world of sexting, friends with benefits and casual hookups where a b.j. is so common it's not even categorized undah a sex heading, unlimited access to porn, and their entire music and video collection available anytime, anywhere on their ubiquitous portable smart devices...
Bill:
And they are depressed?
Bill:
I mean in my day we lived with acne, a permanent case of blue balls, 3 tv channels, and a limited, hardcopy porn stash infrequently upgraded.
Mike:
*And* a cursed Red Sox team.
Bill:
Yeah, and a cursed, World Series deficient Red Sox team *and* we had to walk 7 miles in 3 feet of snow...
Bill:
And we were happy, damnit, happy!
Bill:
Hey, I know I'm going out on a limb here, but I think the Red Sox offense might be stahting to come around...
Doug:
Oh, c'mon guy, a truly great team would have scored twenty runs. Heh.
Bill:
So is it calm, content, and peace we find?*
Doug:
I mean I'm as contented as a gender-confused 10 year old being told by my teacher to self-identify with a clownfish as a way to, you know, feel bettah about myself and shit.
Mike:
A 1.69 ERA? Allowing just two runs in his last 30 innings? Nasty.
Bill:
He's gone all friggin Die Verwandlung... the hurlah is now a true craftsman.
Mike:
Remember what Curt Schilling said?
"When he does combine max effort in the mental preparation arena (which is not to say he hasn’t before, but as you age you learn different things about yourself and the game) with his physical preparation, things could get interesting."
Bill:
Funny, if you take away the pahts about mental and physical preparation arenas, that's pretty much exactly what my career counselors said about me.
Mike:
A 1.69 ERA? Allowing just two runs in his last 30 innings? Nasty.
Bill:
He's gone all friggin Die Verwandlung... the hurlah is now a true craftsman.
Mike:
Remember what Curt Schilling said?
"When he does combine max effort in the mental preparation arena (which is not to say he hasn’t before, but as you age you learn different things about yourself and the game) with his physical preparation, things could get interesting."
Bill:
Funny, if you take away the pahts about mental and physical preparation arenas, that's pretty much exactly what my career counselors said about me.
Your omniscient author in absentia:
At the day job, we are on a 10 day sprint cycle, with the 11th day being planning for the next 10 days... today is just such a planning day which pretty much takes out all my free Soxaholix time... So no strip today.
But I will say this –
That save Thomas made against Downie last night in the 3rd was one of the greatest things I've seen in a long, long time.
Mike:
Here youth, unchanging, blooms and smiles,
Here dwells eternal spring,
And warm from Hope's elysian isles
The winds their perfume bring.*
Doug:
You know not only was Wake amazing last night, but when you factah in the timing and the need with the injury situation, well, it's the stuff of legend.
Al:
If you told me a month ago that I'd be looking at 25-21 club a ½ game off the lead, I'd of called you a crazy sonavabitch.
Mike:
Now if it would only stop raining.
Al:
The rain is ruining my summah!
Doug:
I mean how are you supposed to convince Jesus to not make you one of the "Left Behind" when you're batting below the Mendoza Line?
Bill:
Meanwhile, make way for Cubbies.
Doug:
You know and people have the audacity to say that newspapers are losing relevance.
Doug:
Where the fuck are we gonna learn this stuff without the never ending toiling and commitment to historicity that guys like the CHB bring to the table?
Bill:
Seriously. I mean it's not like we live in world where everything is hyperlinked and cross-linked and dispersed in some sort of futuristic "info web" where, god like, we can summon facts and porn with a few quick keystrokes.
Doug:
But, hey, you know at least we *do* live in a world where Lady Gaga and Justin Bieber are declared "powerful."
Bill:
Poor bastard just had no idea what he'd be missing.
Al:
Seriously. I looked at the standings this morning and got that tingly feeling like I was Schwarzenegger alone in a room with a membah of my house staff.
Doug:
Oh, that's nothing. I saw the .524 combined with Buch's line and I felt like DSK after 2 flaming Pernods and a Viagra.
Al:
Yeah, first he stahts hitting and the next thing you know he's throwing runnahs out.
Doug:
Ah, dude, let's not get all carried away and shit...
Bill:
So I guess this is what we get for imagining being rid of Lackey and Dice-K... the ol' "be careful what you wish for."
Bill:
Absolutely. And this is why I have no qualms, I mean I'm totally friggin devoid of qualm, when I wish for the perfection of the Japanese sexbot even though it could very well bring with it the complete collapse of humanity as we know it.
Mike:
There you go, right there.
Doug:
Don't look now but all of a sudden the Sox are in a 3-way tie for 2nd in the East.
Mike:
Put away your umbrellas, put on your pink hats, it's fair weathah!
Mike:
Yeah, he's gonna miss at least his next 3 stahts...
Doug:
With "elbow strain."
Doug:
And by elbow strain they mean, of course, that he's as useful as a dental dam on a Real Doll.
Mike:
But not unexpectedly per Tito's loyalty to veterans, this means Wakefield will be taking Lackey's place in the rotation...
Mike:
And Wake hasn't even been replacement level for the past 2 seasons.
Doug:
Yeah, well, as absurd as it sounds, I'd rathah lose with Wakefield than lose with Lackey... it just feels bettah somehow.
Mike:
Well, let's hope Lackey uses the time away to "heal" and work on his location, like, you know, locating his pitches somewhere in the National League.
Doug:
First sweep of New York in New York since 2004.
Al:
2004? Hmmm... there's something about that year that rings a bell... wait, wait, don't tell me... I'll think of it...
Doug:
I know it's only .500, but I tell you this morning I'm happiah than a Jihadist with a new porn stash.
Mike:
So now that we're at 20/20 anyone have any vision into the future?
Al:
Well, it's like this —
First 12 games; 2-10 (.167)
Last 26 games: 18-10 (.643)
Al:
If we toss away the first 12 at outliahs and look at the .643 pace as the norm from here on out, that's 98 wins right there.
Al:
So what's that? 44 available to lose over the next 20 weeks or so?
Doug:
Losing 2 a week seems pretty friggin reasonable.
Mike:
Yeah, until you remembah that Lackey is good for one of those available 2 losses and he pitches every 5th day.
Doug:
Lestah and Buck, Beckett and Dice... pray to Christ that'll suffice.
Your omniscient author in absentia:
Like I mentioned in the comments yesterday, got sprung with a very early interview session at work, so need to prep, set up a conference room, boot the projector, boot the teleconference stream blah blah blah...
So I don't have any free time this morning to write
But here's a Camus quote I'll leave you with that seems very appropriate for this creepy site:
"A character is never the author who created him. It is quite likely, however, that an author may be all his characters simultaneously."
Doug:
To all of those Sox fans who still believe that this club is just going through a bad spell and that come Octobah we'll look back at the staht of the season and laugh...
Doug:
I tip my cap to you...
Doug:
You are Malia to my Bristol...
Doug:
You are Boston Rob to my redneck Ralph...
Al:
Hey, it's not so bad. Lackey would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for those pesky .158 lifetime hittahs.
Mike:
Ah, "Paging Dr. Jung... Dr. Carl Jung you're need in therapy."
Mike:
Seriously. Is that textbook projection or what?
Doug:
To use one of my grams favorite expressions, Lackey is about as useful as tits on a bull.
Al:
Christ, I'd take tits on a shemale right now.
Mike:
But, you know, let's remembah Lackey's dealing with some personal stuff.
Al:
So I've heard — "Everything in [his] life sucks right now, to be honest with you."
Doug:
Well, it's time like this when we can thank our good fortune to work in fabric covered cubes, living paycheck to paycheck, and burdened with credit cahd debt...
Doug:
Because, you know, making $16 mil a year is teh suck.
Your omniscient author in absentia:
Apologies, my mornings are getting busted up with job related stuff that I need to address.
As it goes, there is less tolerance in my line of work for sub .500 performance than there is in MLB.
And the pay isn't nearly as good either. (Perhaps you can relate?)
Things should clear up by Thursday and strips will resume.
Rider on Green Line:
Well, it's like this – today even the well of inside joke commentary on about 12 or 14 different topics is dry.
On top of that I'm in the weeds at the day job.
Oh, and I'm having a low grade existential crisis.
There you have it.
Doug:
You know the expression "trade a guy for a bag of balls"?
Al:
And BTW memo to Theo: Don't go aftah guys with Dickensian names like "Lackey." I mean c'mon.
Mike:
I dunno, I think it depends on the sort of Dickensian name.
Mike:
I mean I'd sure as fuck take an Octavio Steelorbs or a Langdon Throwstone.
Doug:
Can we get a scout ovah to the NOTY's?
Doug:
To whomevah was up until 2:45am to see that train wreck in it's entirety, I salute you. You are bettah than me.
Bill:
I couldn't do it, but my Real Doll, Romana, was wide awake for the whole thing.
Bill:
Yeah, but this morning she looked like hell. I mean glazed expression, slack jaw, just totally fucking nahcohypniaptic...
Doug:
Christ, do these guys have any idea the toll this takes on our loved ones watching at home?
Bill:
Damn you, Red Sox, you're ruinin' my Real Doll!
Doug:
Groove Armada, baby.
Al:
Christ, I don't want to jinx it or anything, but these sonzabitches are flirting with .500 again.
Mike:
You know, when this season opened in Texas, I think we all thought .500 would be a momentary point of inflection in the arc toward a steady .600 to .615 trek.
Al:
Seriously. 1-0, 1-1, 2-1, 3-1, 4-1, 5-1, 5-2, 6-2... so on and so forth.
Doug:
Who knew .500 would be such a ball breakah.
Al:
I know this is way worse than popping off champagne for winning the Wild Card, but if and when these guys crack that victory barriah, I think a celebration is in order.
Mike:
Agreed. If nothing else, I think we need to release some pent up steam. Any suggestions?
Al:
When that little dude jumps in the back of the cah at the end, I confess it's oddly satisfying.
Mike:
Hell yeah. That little dude put the "no" in denouement.
Doug:
And by "no" you mean "Oh, no he di'int!"
Your omniscient author in absentia:
I'm under the weather from allergies* today, so you're on your own in considering, "Can we just go ahead and always play the Angels?"
*[And by "allergies" I mean, of course, the dry mouth, dry heave, drubbed feeling one gets the morning after attending an obligatory weeknight social function with an open bar.]
Bill:
Well, so much for the joke that they'll get Osama bin Laden before Crawford gets his first clutch hit.
Bill:
A Sunday of improbables...
Bill:
Hey, Doug, your tinfoil is showing.
Doug:
But look at the rate this team is going, it's going also going to take nearly 10 to make that 5 game behind deficit.
Bill:
Seriously. Losing 2 of 3 at home to one of the worse teams in the AL?
Bill:
Funny how I thought this season would be like J-Lo – mature, polished, rich and incredibly hot.