We pause in memory of the loss of one or our greatest poets

Susan/Circle:
The world is less sonorous this morning.

 

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Mike:
Truly. Maya Angelou was one of the poets who was great to read but to hear her read was anothah thing entirely...

 

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Susan/Circle:
Phenomenal Woman.

 

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This time we mean it

Mike:
Has a 2-game win streak in May evah felt so good?

 

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Doug:
Look the Red Sox are winning again...

 

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Doug:
Jessica Simpson is skinny again...

 

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Doug:
Kim Kardashian is married again...

 

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Doug:
This shit is for realz.

 

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There and back again

Bill:
You know I was oddly disappointed with the win yestahday.

 

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Mike:
Yeah, somehow there was something titillating about wondering fah the losing streak could go.

 

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Bill:
The streak was noteworthy for its infamy, but now they're back to just being a run of the mill lousy team.

 

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Mike:
This season is ovah.

 

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Bill:
From worst to first to worst again.

 

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Mike:
Somewhere Bobby Valentine is eating a wrap sandwich and smiling a vindictive smile.

 

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My summah!

Mike:
That's 6 in a row if you're scoring this at home.

 

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Bill:
So much for all the "depth"...

 

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Bill:
So much for the burgeoning supahstah triplets of JBJ, WMB, and Xandah...

 

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Bill:
So much for giving Bill James more of role... I'm looking at you sac bunts

 

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Bill:
So much for the much extolled injury prevention plan...

 

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Mike:
Yeah, and you know what else?

 

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Mike:
These bums haven't won a World Series in 7 friggin months!

 

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Bill:
Sonsabitches.

 

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Looking like I'll have a lot of Fridays free

Doug:
If last year was the year of the extraordinary...

 

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Doug:
Then this year is the year of the absolutely unextraordinary.

 

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Mike:
You can't have lightness without darkness.

 

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Doug:
Yin and yang.

 

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Al:
The pool or the pond.

 

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Play it again

Susan/Circle:
I just can't do it...

 

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Susan/Circle:
Despite the attempts of Buckley and othahs to cajole me into going ape shit...

 

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Susan/Circle:
I confess I remain content to watch the 2014 Red Sox "stumble" along.

 

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Mike:
I love the honeymoon period.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Everyday it's April in Paris.

 

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Mike:
It's April in Paris and the Germans nevah came.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Ah, yes, I'm remembering every detail.

 

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Mike:
And you're wearing blue.

 

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.500 Friday bonus

Bill:
Two wrong way walkoffs in one week? Jeez, if I had a sex robot, I'd beat it.

 

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Mike:
You know they're actually closah to first aftah 40 games right now than they were last year?

 

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Bill:
Yeah, well, "the reports of Solange being intoxicated or displaying erratic behavior throughout that evening are simply false"

 

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Mike:
So there are facts and then there are facts.

 

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Bill:
Fact is this is .500 club.

 

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Mike:
In theory, that means we shouldn't even be here today.

 

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Bill:
Are we?

 

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Didn't see this coming

Doug:
With all due respect to the Red Sox and their win ovah the Twinkies, today I shall pine woefully for the Bruins.

 

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Al:
A cat chases off a dog on the same day the Canadians vanquish Boston? Coincidence? I think not.

 

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Mike:
Well, this is one of those times that I'm glad we live in a world of ever shortah news cycles and attention spans. By tomorrow this will be ancient news.

 

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Mike:
Seriously, we'll be able to get back to worrying about the important things like white privilege, the esteem of fat chicks, and gay weddings.

 

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I told you there'd be days like this

Hart Brachen:
Your creepy host has reached that point of inflection that comes with, er, maturity, such that not only has his overall alcohol tolerance decreased but also that seemingly one or two drops over his maximum threshold will result in a debilitating next day hangover.

 

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Hart Brachen:
Either that or he watched Jake Peavy pitch.

 

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Hart Brachen:
But the Bruins have a cure, of this I'm quite sure.

 

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All this basepath running is da hurt

Bill:
You tired, bro?

 

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Doug:
&My legs aren’t feeling too good right now.& Aw, dude, me sadz.

 

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Bill:
Maybe Michelle Obama make a pouty face and hold up a sign reading #BringBackOurLegs.

 

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Doug:
That and and maybe BigBri can come on ovah and give Texeira and the rest of the imps a soothing leg message.

 

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Bill:
Yeah, every story needs a happy ending.

 

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Flipping it around

Mike:
19 and 18, brothahs and sistahs.

 

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Doug:
God is in his heaven and all is right with the world.

 

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Mike:
Winnahs in 6 of their last 8 and 2 games out of 1st?

 

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Mike:
John Lackey in a stetson, a bearded drag queen Eurovision champ, and a socialist Pope ?

 

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Mike:
God's all in heaven and going "Yeah, but that backflip tho?"

 

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Misty water-colored memories

Mike:
Craig Breslow is the smahtest guy in the clubhouse. Good to know.

 

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Susan/Circle:
Well, it's kind of a low bah these days now that Jurassic Carl has retiahed.

 

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Mike:
Ah, those were the days...

 

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Susan/Circle:
The days when dinosaurs nevah roamed the earth...

 

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Mike:
And Fenway nevah allows perfect games.

 

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Wanderlust

Bill:
With all due respect to George Bailey's anchor chains, plane motors, and train whistles as the 3 best sounds in the world I think he forgot one — the thunk of hahd hit ball off the Wall.

 

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Mike:
And they all are the sounds of movement, of going places.

 

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Bill:
And all sound all the sweetah aftah a long wait.

 

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Call in the Bard (the poet not the pitcher)

Doug:
Sigh. What can I say about the Red Sox that I haven't already said a couple dozen times ovah a couple dozen seasons?

 

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Mike:
Well you know what they say...

 

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Mike:
All the world's a ballpahk,

 

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Mike:
And all the men and women merely fans;

 

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Mike:
They have their peanuts and crackah jack

 

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Mike:
And one man in his time sits in many seats...

 

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Doug:
So I should just be happy that I'm not at the last out of all?

 

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Mike:
Sans balls, sans bats, sans taste, sans everything.

 

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It's that kind of year (so far)

Your omniscient author in absentia:
Hate to follow-up an "under .500 no strip Friday" with an "OMG work is killing me no strip Monday" but c'est la vie.

Seems we all are having some issues with the basic fundamentals these days.

 

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Rain out with rooks

Susan/Circle:
On the stiff twig up theyah...

 

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Mike:
Greatest rainy day poem evah.

 

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