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Pillars of Salt

Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
So it's the end of long Red Sox tradition — no more beer in the clubhouse.

 

Doug:
Valentine had to do something I guess, though I can't help but wondah if this is more a treating the symptom rather than a curing of the disease.

 

Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
What are you suggesting, that maybe the beer per se wasn't the real issue and that perhaps whatevah it is the motivated a few of the playahs to flagrantly disrespect their teammates and their managah is really the problem at hand?

 

Doug:
I know. Crazy talk, right?

 

Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Well, if history is any guide, we know the best way to fight a problem is by way of issuing formal prohibitions, embargoes, and bans.

 

Doug:
I feel bettah already.

 

Comments

I may not make millions of dollars a year, but we have beer in the office fridge, and a bottle of Grey Goose in the freezer.

Chicken and video games are still ok though, right? Great. Let's not go overboard or anything.

Maybe I can roll the beer cart over to Fenway on Fridays.

Great. Now they will do their drinking before coming to the ballpark.

Well, the Nationals have signed Ryan Zimmerman to their roster until the Day of Judgment, so that's pretty cool.

Good point, Yazbread. Oil Can Boyd snorted up before "two-thirds" of his starts and he rolled to a 78-77 lifetime record.

Does anyone else not really give a shit about this stuff but concern themselves more with the guys simply doing their f-king jobs?


Eat chicken. Screw hookers. Drink beer...fuckit, drink moose piss if you like. Crush monarch butterflies and nutmeg into a congealed paste and smoke it if it makes you happy. But get your head in the game and be there when you're meant to.
Play like you want to be there. I don't give a shit how muchyou get paid, just do your fucking job.

@ pseudo - fuck yeah, love it. Right up there with the lollygag speech.

Well, if I was a "cousin" of one of the players, I would have a whole new business opportunity open to me now - bootleggin', flask sales, a small distillery in the storgae room behind the monster. A rolling beer cart, perhaps? Disguised as a juice bar?

I may be a rookie, but I 'm pretty sure you can buy a7,50 beer mere inches away from the entrance to the clubhouse. Seems silly to me.

Spamorama

Oh my god, can the games just start so we can talk about actual baseball rather than all the bullshit the Henry/Lucchino/Werner factory keep spitting at us? I am so sick of hating my favorite team.... the only remedy is live ball.

Signs that you might be listening to a little too much Boston sports talk radio on your iphone, ipod, android or blackberry device: the 8 1/2 year old 'Sox fan wake up and starts singing:

1-800-54 GIANT

@psuedo "Crush monarch butterflies and nutmeg into a congealed paste and smoke it" ... Does that shit work?

I now must think of an appropriate punishment for SDU for getting that jingle stuck in my head.


As punishment, I think we should all call SDU when our windshield's busted.

Is God commenting on our new and improved bullpen?


http://bostonherald.com/news/regional/view/20220227fire_at_fenway_park_causes_100k_in_damage/srvc=home&position=4

So long, Captain.

I am inconsolable about Tek's retirement. Who will satiate my thigh lust now?

Popeye's?

@jfm, I wouldn't try it, you'll blow out your O-ring and only have a taste for fried chicken skin for 3 weeks.


@Natalie, I'm sure a nice new tasty morsel that you would like to sink your teeth into will come along soon enough. It's like Wooderson said in Dazed and Confused (paraphrased to suit): 'That's what I love about these juicy baseball players, man. I get older, they stay the same age.'

Anyone who can quote Wooderson is top shelf.


The irony of my misery, albeit expected, over Tek is that my high dollar 33 smock is now the smock of a RedSox legend, whereas for the past couple years it was the shirt of the backup catcher.


...memories that become legend, legend fades to myth... (blatant ripoff of another)

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