Thursday, July 14, 2005
  Baseball's Back... YAY
Watching game one of a four-game set between the World Champions and the American League runners-up. But because of the unfortunate lot of living where I do, I'm stuck with the YES Network, rather than NESN or even ESPN2. Such is such. Here are some meanderings of my mind during the broadcast...
Bottom 1: The Red Sox (check!) and Yanks on the tube right now. Johnny extended his hit streak to just 30 shy of Dimaggio. Edgah with the nice 2-3 Sac Bunt. Papi with the base knock. Manny with the good eye. Trotter with the big fly. 4-0 good guys.

When Mike Mussina and the Yankees are playing, there is not a high enough amount of runs that a team could score against that swarmy prick and his stupid, jerk-face delivery from the stretch.

(Mature? No, not really. But I don't care. )

Somewhere, Larry Johnson made the joke "Hey Mussina, how's facing all nine batters in the first inning working out for you?" to someone.

Bellhorn F8 to Melky (?) who almost corrides with Matsui in reft center to end the first. Four runs, three hits, two left.
Top 2: I'm not sure the bald guy in the pink shirt is Steve Bartman, but Trotter would've made that play if Kojak didn't try for the souvenir. HR for the cheater.

I can live with a solo shot if you can.

And then Bernie Williams hits a solo shot. One is fine. Two not so much.

So Kay is all puddles in his pants now that the Yanks (and he's yelling this, BTW) cut the Sox lead in half. Hey Mike, not for nothing, but the Sox lead off with their leadoff guy next inning. Why? Because they smacked your bitch up.
Bottom 2: The awful Kay and equally bad Ken Singleton returned to the YES Network propaganda list, gushing about the July 1, 2004 game where Jeter dove into the stands for a foul ball and the Yankees won in 13 innings. Me and my man Buzz were there.

The one thing that irks me about the Jeter catch - and in the effort of fairness, it was a heck of a play - is that Pokey Reese made a better catch earlier in that game. He dove into the camera pit. He caught the ball. And he didn't have to leave the game. Why? Because he is what Jules from Pulp Fiction has on his wallet.

Michael Kay is, backhandedly, suggesting that the Yanks throw at David Ortiz. Good idea, Mike. And then you should get a stick and poke a sleeping bear. Or remember that scene in Die Hard With a Vengence, when Bruce Willis had to wear those racially insensitive signboards on 125th and Lexington in Harlem USA? That's a good idea, too. (with apologies to Mo Vaughn, dumb stupid Michael Kay, HE'S STUPID!)

Sox let Moose off the hook. Onto the third. No more home runs, Bronnie. Please?
Top 3: Gary Sheffield hits a rocket, Johnny Damon misplays it, and the Yanks score again. Ugh. How long before people start pointing fingers at Arroyo's rock concert last night?

Answer: about 17 seconds, when Michael Kay brought it up.

K of A-Rod for the first out on a gross hook. Then hits the cheater with a 2-2 curveball off the knee. Craptastic.

Coming into the two out at-bat, Posada is 0-for his last-13, 4-for his last-42, 5-for his last-51...he ends the at-bat 0-14...4-43...5-52...
Bottom 3: Old news/propaganda about when Manny was put on waivers and not claimed.

Larry Johnson: "Hey Yankees, how's not picking Manny up off waivers working out for you?" Swings at the 3-0, grounds out 6-3. Crap.

Ken Singleton poking fun at waiting 86 years for a World Series trophy. Hey pal, try winning one this millenium and then you can walk around buck naked in your glass house.

Trot hits a shot that was just foul, narrowly missing a home run. He then goes the other way for a wall-ball single. But the unfortunate part of not hitting a home run for Trotter is that he's on first, he's slow, and Millar is up.

And Millar makes me eat my words, wall-ball double. Nice. Shut TLBR up, let the hits go, Kev. Come to the dark side.

RBI groundout, 6-3 for Varitek and the Sox tack one back on the board. Professional Bill up, looking for some two-out RiSP and pops one up.

Moose at close to 70 pitches through just 3 innings. A solid 4th for the Sox and it could be time for Worcester's Own.
Top 4: This is an inning where Bronson needs to settle down, start a string of retiring eight in a row or something. Gee, Wally, that'd be swell.

And no sooner do I type that...Bernie 6-3, Melky one-pitch pop-up, (Jeter basehit which we'll ignore), Canoe a pop-up, which you can score FF3 on your card.

Saturn Nuts is settling. And if you're a Yankee fan, that fact should be unsettling.
Bottom 4: Was thinking that you all deserve a Hand tomorrow...

Bellhorn, however, deserves no hand. You are awarded no points and may God have mercy on your soul. K's on five pitches. Turds.

Damon lines out to Melky. Double turds. Edgah pops up to Canoe. Triple turds. Mussina's retired five in a row. Time to pop open a can of cold, refreshing Sierra Mist.

In sharp contrast to my pissy mood post this afternoon, I wonder what Schill's closer music is going to be.
Top 5: Sheff leads off with a bomb. I hope he gets a fastball right under his chin next at-bat. I hope his kids get beaten up at school. I hope someone takes his mom out for a nice seafood dinner and never calls her again.

Nice job of preparation by the YES Network directors. When Kay was blah-blahing about how bad the Red Sox bullpen is (and yeah, the Yanks have such a strong foundation of pitching. ass), they were talking about Curt Schilling...and showing Mike Timlin...then talking about Chad Bradford...and showing Mike Timlin...then talking about how neither Schilling and Bradford were Timlin, then show Jeremi Gonzalez heading into the bullpen pisser for a quick one.

There goes your emmy, Filipelli.
Bottom 5: Moose gets Papi on three straight pitches. He's sat down six in a row.

His pitch count is probably close to 80, he struggles after 100. So a nice two-out rally would be a welcome...oh crap. Screw it. This inning ended before I could say anything funny. So I'll leave it to Mitch Hedberg:

"I would imagine if you understood Morse Code, a tap dancer would drive you crazy."
"I wish I could play little league now. I'd be way better than before."
"I like rice. Rice is great if your hungry and want 2000 of something."
Top 6: The slumping Posada leads off the sixth with Matsui's bat and snaps a 0-for-14, 1-for-20 slump. Now, as the genius Ken Singleton points out, he's 1-for his last-1.

Kenny, you're 0-for your last three decades. Please shut up.

Mike Myers warming. Let's see if this bullpen, as I have surmised, might shorten Red Sox games to 6-7 innings.

Mueller makes a nice grab in foul territory as the ball was playing tricks on him. Remember the Geto Boys? As they sat alone in a four-cornered room, starin' at candles, their minds played tricks on them.

Melky pops out to center for the second out and Jeter hits a shot to Pro-Bill, who makes a grade-A catch, a grade-C throw and Millar makes a grade-F attempt at catching it (fucking Ballbag). Tying run scores. F-tard. Bronson leaves with a no-decision...

Bronson's going to get blamed for playing guitar; my bullpen theory just got debunked; and Manny saves a run. Oh well. Onto the sixth. But first, more Mitch.

"I was going to get my teeth whitened, but I said screw that, I'll just get a tan instead."
Bottom 6: Will Kevin Millar break this 5-5 tie?

Will he?

Can he?

Dare he?

No. But he didn't get out and he didn't dead pull the ball. Holy cow. If I do recall correctly, it was this time last year against this very same team that he came around with a 3 HR game, which started a hot streak. Hmmm...

Tek adds another base knock here and perhaps the maligned, beleaguered, completely poopie-cockie-dookie Yankee bullpen is stirring?

Pro Bill hits a groundball to Jeter. Michael Kay called it "gritty." I call it "routine." But, then again, Jeter's not an all-star caliber shortstop, so maybe he needs all the kudos he can get. Especially if he wants to meet a nice girl someday.

So with one out and men on the corners, we have Mark Bellhorn. With some luck, he'll strikeout rather than groundout, although base hit into right center would be preferred.

But, alas and alack, he K'ed. See-you-next-Tuesday.

This could be a major league squander, unless Johnny can come through...

3-0 to 3-3. Looking. And something just got thrown. Onto the 7th.

"Alcoholism, is a disease, but it's the only disease that you can get yelled at for having. Dammit Otto, your an alcoholic. Dammit Otto, you have lupus. One of those two doesn't sound right."
Top 7: The Chad Bradford era begins. The Chad Bradford era causes a chopper in front of the plate. Chad Bradford throws a submarine pitch to first. Methinks that we need Olerud on first when Chad Bradford pitches because Millar ain't gonna cut it.

(someone call Guinness, I think I just set a new world record for most Chad Bradford's in a single blog entry).

Chad Bradford is now facing A-Rod. Chad Bradford walks A-Rod. Tito comes out to grab the ball from Chad Bradford. Good job, Chad Bradford.

So now it's Embree, the lefty straight fastball thrower vs. Matsui, the lefty straight fastball hitter. Super.

I just pooped my pants. Thanks Trot. Two outs. No thanks Alan. You're no Chad Bradford.

Embree vs. the lefty cheater? 4-3 on one pitch. Boy, that Yankee lineup sure does tumble off the cliff like a doomed lemming after the six-hole.
Bottom 7: After Fenway got up and strrrrrrrrrrrretched, Edgar gets up and K's.

What's the low fucking strike call all of a sudden, Hunter? Edgar on strike 2 and 3...Papi's strike 2...

And then...
Boom. Big Papi. Big inning. Big fly. Big run. Big time. Onto the eighth.

"The depressing thing about tennis is that no matter how much I play, I'll never be as good a a wall. I played a wall once. They're relentless."
Top 8: Oh great...Embree vs. Posada, leadoff single. This is going to be fun, isn't it?

Tito comes to the mound and it's going to be Timlin. The Schill as closer era is almost on us. I feel like I'm watching history. Two more outs. Two outs till the Man Who Makes 55,000 New Yorkers Shut Up jogs from right field to the hill.

Bernie moves the runner along and Torre brings Ruben Sierra instead of the rookie Melky Cabrera. One out. Man on third. Can Timlin get out of this jam???

Nope. And not for nothing...why isn't Kevin Millar playing the line on that play? There's a man on third, one out.

So Jeter up, one out, man on second. And I'm officially worried. Thankfully, Captain Intangibles-but-not-an-All-Star grounded out 3-1 and Canoe pops up.

The Sox need a run. One run. Two runs, even. Then it's Curt. Because extra innings isn't good for anyone.

"I'm against picketing, but I don't know how to show it."
Bottom 8: Are you done singing "Sweet Caroline?" Good.

WTF? Ok, this guy I know just emailed me and wanted to know if I'd be interested in buying his pair of Backstreet Boys tickets for 50 bucks. Are you shitting me?

Can Kevin Millar continue his hot bat?

Can he do it when it counts most?

Can he?

Will he?

He did. He walked. Now, I seem to recall a situation where, in a big game vs. the Yankees, that Millar walked and was pinch run for. Then the runner stole second. Then the Sox took the lead...

Well, that just sucked. Tek popped up. Pinch runner Adam Stern, playing the role of Dave Roberts, is still on first. One away.

Kay and Kenny are talking about why the Sox don't bunt (check the scorecard in the 1st, boys, under "Renteria") and Kay says it's because the Sox are a Moneyball team. Actually, no they're not. But heaven forbid you let accuracy get in the way of making your point.

Pro Bill moves Adam Stern to second and John Olerud pinch hits for Mark Bellhorn. Good to see that Tito's making moves. But Olerud grounds out. And we go to the top of the 9th and the Curt Schilling as closer era. The "Welcome to the Jungle" era.

But no...the fucking turds from YES cut to a McDonald's ad. I hate New York. I hate the New York Yankees. I hate their owner. I hate their arrogant, insignificant ways. I hope they ingest glass. I hope they find fingers in their chili at Wendy's.

Oh sure, they put it on after the inning. But I'd have preferred it live.

Whatever. I still have goosebumps. Fuck 'em up, Schill.
Top 9: Let's go.

Schill leaves the 2-2 out there, and Sheff hits it. I hope R. Kelly still has his wife's celly.

And the Curt Schilling as closer is just a few miles per hour faster than the Keith Foulke as closer era. And I'm going to go break stuff.

Actually, the velocity is about the same. I'm about as angry as I've been in, oh, say, three hours.

So they get to our closer. And, the "much-maligned by the Red Sox fans and players - including Curt Schilling" A-Rod hits a two-run bomb.

You know what? The Red Sox do a pretty fucking good job of getting to their closer. See you bottom nine, put the beer on chill, and de-electrify the pool. Top of the order coming up.
Bottom 9: Johnny up. Johnny down.

Edgar up. Edgar down.

Papi up. (foul ball, third base side, A-Rod touches a kid without the kid's consent. Perv.) Papi down.

No Dirty Water. Just dirty words.
This is the ONLY game the Yankees will win. Sox will take the next three, then their beer, then their women. Arriba! Good night.

One. Then two. Then three.

"And then at the end of the letter i like to write P.S.- This is what part of the alphabet would look like if Q and R were eliminated."
Erin Andrews (ESPN) is hot


Monika from India
"We have a puker."

- Kenny Wood
Ship Bellhorn to Bombay..He stinks


Monika from India
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A daily - or every-other-day - account of all there is in my head
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