Thanksgiving Break

Your omniscient author in absentia:
Well, this seems like the right time to go ahead and shut down for the Thanksgiving holiday.

See you back here the first week of December, and they we'll go from there.

Have a great Thanksgiving everyone!

 

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Rime of Ancient FA Signing

Doug:
Fieldah to the Rangahs.

 

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Al:
And I have just one word for that... Albatross!

 

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Mike:
High-priced first baseman everywhere
Gonzalez, Pujols, Teixeira methinks
High-priced first baseman everywhere
Seems most of them go to stink

 

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Settling in

Bill:
Well, I have to admit that the effervescent glow formed by a mixture of jubilee and incredulity at having found ourselves World Champions is now morphing toward a fierce tenacity to defend that title.

 

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Doug:
Seriously, we'll be like Frodo approaching Mordor come spring as the weight of the ring grows.

 

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Bill:
And then there's the whole uniqueness of the "year aftah"... I mean how can you criticize any move Cherington and the front office make when they just delivered you a World Series?

 

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Doug:
No kidding. They could sign a midget for huge dollahs and I'd be like, "Well, look, small strike zone, lots of walks... I can get behind this."

 

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Can't do anything about it

Two guys walking, no words exchanged:

 

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Two guys walking, no words exchanged:

 

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Two guys walking, no words exchanged:

 

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Two guys walking, no words exchanged:

 

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Two guys walking, no words exchanged:

 

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Two guys walking, no words exchanged:

 

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Two guys walking, short guy speaks:
Refs... [Sigh]

 

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Two guys walking, tall guy speaks:
Clete Blakeman is world class idiot and someone should defecate in his mouth.

 

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It starts with one man

Bill:
I love this line from Gammons: "WAR me no more on Dustin Pedroia, there’s no quantifying him, or many elements in the game."

 

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Mike:
Seriously. Just when I wondah if unabated man crush on Pedroia is sliding into the realm of creepy, Gammons will come along with something to make me realize that rathah than man crushing too much, I'm really not man crushing enough.

 

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Bill:
"[Pedroia] pushed and prodded his teammates to take that daily 30-45 minute infield drilling... and impacted almost every teammate with his intense refusal to give in to any concept of losing..."

 

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Mike:
When you read that, can you imagine the angst Pedroia must have felt every fucking day of the 2012 season?

 

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Bill:
I'm surprised the sun didn't explode.

 

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It's Friday (and we remain World Champions)

Your omniscient author in absentia:
Let's go ahead and start the day off Fridays during the offseason, with the caveat that at some point that could flip and it's Friday only and the rest of the week off... or something.

 

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More awards...

Bill:
I'd like to wish a fervent congratulations to Max Scherzer on winning the AL Cy Young.

 

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Mike:
And by "fervent" you, of course, mean, "Haha too bad for that bullpen meltdown in Game 6 that blew your no-hitting us through 7!"

 

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Bill:
Of course.

 

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Mike:
I love having the cocky swaggah back.

 

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Bill:
There's nothing like it.

 

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Just rewards

Al:
Well, I guess it would seem greedy if I were to pout about Farrell not winning Managah of the Year.

 

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Mike:
And if you're going to lose it, losing it to Tito isn't all bad.

 

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Doug:
Still... seems a bit off considering what Farrell did in going from worst to first of all firsts.

 

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Mike:
I'm guessing the writahs felt Tito inherited a worse situation.

 

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Doug:
Which is anothah way of saying the 2012 Red Sox were so bad on account of the managah... but doesn't that conversely suggest that the new managah was the biggest factah in the turnaround?

 

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Al:
Or are they suggesting that Valentine was so bad that really anyone could have stepped in and had the same success as Farrell?

 

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Doug:
To me that's absurd. I mean Valentine was the worst of worsts, but you don't get to the World Series by just showing up and not being Veet.

 

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Mike:
Agreed, but, you know, we are World Series Champions and nobody else is.

 

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Al:
And the grapes sure are sweet.

 

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Executive decisions, clinical precision

Bill:
Ben Cherington wins the Executive of the Year award, deservedly so.

 

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Mike:
I appreciate his brains and his humility in saying "This [award] is for everyone who works for us and went through a tough time in 2012, and committed to making things better, getting things right."

 

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Bill:
Yeah, big brain.

 

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Mike:
Way biggah than mine. I scoffed at the offseason moves featuring names like Victorino, Gomes, Uehara...

 

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Bill:
Are you kidding me? Those moves were so unimpressive to me that I actually have no specific recollection of them occurring I was so brain dead and bottomed out.

 

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Mike:
Yeah, this was me a year ago.

 

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Bill:
Thank you, Ben Cherington and the Red Sox organization for caring.

 

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Happy Veterans Day

Hart Brachen:
Let's give a big tip o' the cap to all the veterans out there, and especially to those who are part of our creepy community of Soxaholix here.

 

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Friday break

In a group of Soxaholix, a woman speaks:
So this is what I'm hearing...

 

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In a group of Soxaholix, a woman speaks:
If you like your blog, then you can keep your blog.

 

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Alchemy

Mike:
Congratulations to David Ortiz on his sixth Silvah Sluggah award.

 

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Steve:
Yeah, but why silver? I mean shouldn't it be gold or platinum?

 

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Mike:
Actually, now that you mention it, Ortiz himself is more precious that the precious metals.

 

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Steve:
The next element added to the periodic table should rightfully be Ortizium.

 

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Probably going to take a little hiatus soon...

Doug:
10 seasons of gathering around this coolah...

 

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Doug:
3 World Series Pennants...

 

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Doug:
And the chronic merrily on its way to legalization from coast to coast...

 

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Doug:
My work here is done.

 

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Al:
We're deci-sated.

 

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Mike:
Seriously, so where do we go from here?

 

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Al:
I suggest lunch.

 

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Lisa to the rescue

Lisa the Temp:
Hey, peeps, long time no see.

 

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Lisa the Temp:
Lisa's been busy debugging code for healthcare dot gov.

 

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Lisa the Temp:
What you didn't know I had expertise in legacy, proprietary web development languages?

 

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Lisa the Temp:
C'mon this 2013, peeps. It's not about what you can really do so much as what people think you can do.

 

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Lisa the Temp:
And, you know, because, duh, crowdsourcing.

 

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Lisa the Temp:
And randomly quoting Linus Torvalds.

 

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Lisa the Temp:
And taking off this jacket and letting the girls have some air.

 

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Don't rush past this

Bill:
So I'm down in the mailroom this morning and there's this kid there who asks me, "So, guy, what are your hot stove wishes?"

 

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Bill:
And I'm like, fercrissakes kid, aftah going through 6 weeks of spring training, a 162 game season with games that establish their own rhythms and patterns independent of clock time, and aftah being fortunate enough to furthah buffah the passage of time of time by having a postseason run that forces and forges the ultimate coherence of total and absolute victory, aftah all of that you're now ready to just cast it all aside and wondah about "what's next?"... Are you a fucking retahd or what?

 

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Mike:
Seriously how can you think about a hot stove when the newness of spring, the blossoms of summah, and the mists and mellow fruitfulness of autumn are all still in our hahts?

 

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Bill:
I don't even want to think about next year when I'm still early in to celebrating fully this year.

 

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Mike:
Absolutely. This isn't some value meal you pick up at the drive thru and devour mindlessly while driving to your next destination...

 

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Mike:
This is a sumptuous feast that stretches on and on to be savored to its fullest.

 

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Bill:
And I for one plan to be a glutton.

 

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Mike:
Swell the ghords.

 

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Smiling with the rising sun

Doug:
Siri, set a reminder for Saturday: Wake. Bake. Parade.

 

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Mike:
Which sets up perfectly for brunch, munch, and IPAs.

 

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Doug:
Life is good.

 

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Mike:
Three little birds.

 

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Doug:
Melody pure and strong.

 

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