Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Oh, take me back to the start
A few quick points:
1. I'm not concerned about the Red Sox. They still have an eight-game lead in the standings, seven in the loss column. While that's not as much as, say, 14, it's still a lot. I'd rather not have the Sox lose to the Royals - or anyone, for that matter - but the last time the sky was falling, all turned out just fine.
The second-place Yankees had come within 7.5 games. Then, within a fart after a bowl of texas chili, it was back up to 12.5 games.
I'm still highly optimistic, I'm still watching the magic number go down and down (it's at 63), the Sox still have the 2nd-best record in all of baseball despite going 20-20 in their last 40 games, and if the Sox went 35-34 (.507) over the next 69 games, they'd win 91 games. For the Yankees to tie them, they'd have to go 44-27 (.620) over the next 71 games.
The Yankees are a team that JUST got to .500 at the 88-game mark. It took them 88 games to win as many as they lost. You mean to tell me they'll increase their wins by 12% over a smaller span? I doubt it.
Sure, the Yanks play teams with a sub-.500 record (of which they were a member of that club three days ago...) but so do the Red Sox. And barring another 2-1 loss in which Beckett pitches a gem, or any game in which Wakefield pitches and shampooing Doug Mirabelli catches, the Sox play those same teams and have the same sort of chances.
That being said, I would like to see Doug Mirabelli go to Tikrit or Tora Bora. I would like to see a RH bat off the bench that doesn't strike out (badly) most of the time.
-----
I have a dog. I'm growing to be a dog lover.
With that in mind, I don't really like dog fighting.
And with Michael Vick now federally indicted for his role in that dispicable act, I hope he gets his just "reward."
But with that being said, I just don't see the hullaballoo. Pacman Jones shot a dude at a strip club. Mike Vick killed some dogs. Before anyone gets all ASPCA on my ass, it's a dog. Not a person. Some dogs are cool, some are companions, some are service dogs which help the blind, deaf, etc.
Not pit bulls. Those things are killers. In this case, killers got killed, maimed, etc. There is a difference. I shed no tears.
I can come downstairs in the morning for breakfast, and my nine-year old Irish Setter will roll over and let me scratch her belly. It's downright adorable.
If I came downstairs and it was a pit bull, I'd be breakfast.
There are bigger issues in the world than Mike Vick. He's a punk, he's involved in despicable acts, and that's a fact. But if there's any good to come of this, it is this: the Atlanta Falcons might be a better football team now. Paging Joey Harrington.
-----
A Tour de France rider got caught with drugs? Really? Really.
This is a traveshamockery of a sporting event. It's like watching closet alcoholics. Everyone knows it's out there, everyone knows you're doing it, so instead of going to a bar, you swig mouthwash.
What a joke.
And for the record, I still think Lance was clean. Sure, to some people, it sounds like I'm saying "yeah, I still believe in the Easter Bunny," but I don't care. I think he did it on, pardon the crude pun, a bigger "set" than anyone else in the field.
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I'll take drunken Jew-haters for $200, Alex.
-----
A friend sent me Avril Lavigne's cover of Coldplay's "The Scientist." (you know how I know you're gay? you email people Coldplay covers...)
The verdict: it sounded like a Saturday night at Mike Vick's house.
Brutal.
-----
Hi, remember when I used to be attractive? What the hell happened to this girl?
I quote Rick James: "Cocaine's a hell of a drug."
-----
It used to be a certain Scottish fellow (who shall remain nameless) who made me feel better about the weight gain, but now it's switched.
It's Val Kilmer.
Remember when he was Iceman? Or Batman? Or Chris Knight (the single-biggest basis for my humor today)? Or the nameless dude in "Heat" that got shot up a bunch of times?
Now? He's just fat. Welcome to the club, we've got a seat waiting for you. And we ordered nachos.
-----
Congrats to former colleague Jeff Ruland for landing the head coaching gig with the Albuquerque Thunderbirds.
Hopefully, the Big Fella will get to re-invent himself and get on the fast track to where he should be: on an NBA bench.
For whatever happened in the past is just that: the past. Here's hoping he leaves it there and gets after it in the D-League. Just like the players he'll be mentoring, it's his second and last chance, too.
At the very least, I'll be tuning into the post-game pressers.
-----
Ok, that's all for now.
yh&os,
1. I'm not concerned about the Red Sox. They still have an eight-game lead in the standings, seven in the loss column. While that's not as much as, say, 14, it's still a lot. I'd rather not have the Sox lose to the Royals - or anyone, for that matter - but the last time the sky was falling, all turned out just fine.
The second-place Yankees had come within 7.5 games. Then, within a fart after a bowl of texas chili, it was back up to 12.5 games.
I'm still highly optimistic, I'm still watching the magic number go down and down (it's at 63), the Sox still have the 2nd-best record in all of baseball despite going 20-20 in their last 40 games, and if the Sox went 35-34 (.507) over the next 69 games, they'd win 91 games. For the Yankees to tie them, they'd have to go 44-27 (.620) over the next 71 games.
The Yankees are a team that JUST got to .500 at the 88-game mark. It took them 88 games to win as many as they lost. You mean to tell me they'll increase their wins by 12% over a smaller span? I doubt it.
Sure, the Yanks play teams with a sub-.500 record (of which they were a member of that club three days ago...) but so do the Red Sox. And barring another 2-1 loss in which Beckett pitches a gem, or any game in which Wakefield pitches and shampooing Doug Mirabelli catches, the Sox play those same teams and have the same sort of chances.
That being said, I would like to see Doug Mirabelli go to Tikrit or Tora Bora. I would like to see a RH bat off the bench that doesn't strike out (badly) most of the time.
-----
I have a dog. I'm growing to be a dog lover.
With that in mind, I don't really like dog fighting.
And with Michael Vick now federally indicted for his role in that dispicable act, I hope he gets his just "reward."
But with that being said, I just don't see the hullaballoo. Pacman Jones shot a dude at a strip club. Mike Vick killed some dogs. Before anyone gets all ASPCA on my ass, it's a dog. Not a person. Some dogs are cool, some are companions, some are service dogs which help the blind, deaf, etc.
Not pit bulls. Those things are killers. In this case, killers got killed, maimed, etc. There is a difference. I shed no tears.
I can come downstairs in the morning for breakfast, and my nine-year old Irish Setter will roll over and let me scratch her belly. It's downright adorable.
If I came downstairs and it was a pit bull, I'd be breakfast.
There are bigger issues in the world than Mike Vick. He's a punk, he's involved in despicable acts, and that's a fact. But if there's any good to come of this, it is this: the Atlanta Falcons might be a better football team now. Paging Joey Harrington.
-----
A Tour de France rider got caught with drugs? Really? Really.
This is a traveshamockery of a sporting event. It's like watching closet alcoholics. Everyone knows it's out there, everyone knows you're doing it, so instead of going to a bar, you swig mouthwash.
What a joke.
And for the record, I still think Lance was clean. Sure, to some people, it sounds like I'm saying "yeah, I still believe in the Easter Bunny," but I don't care. I think he did it on, pardon the crude pun, a bigger "set" than anyone else in the field.
-----
I'll take drunken Jew-haters for $200, Alex.
-----
A friend sent me Avril Lavigne's cover of Coldplay's "The Scientist." (you know how I know you're gay? you email people Coldplay covers...)
The verdict: it sounded like a Saturday night at Mike Vick's house.
Brutal.
-----
Hi, remember when I used to be attractive? What the hell happened to this girl?
I quote Rick James: "Cocaine's a hell of a drug."
-----
It used to be a certain Scottish fellow (who shall remain nameless) who made me feel better about the weight gain, but now it's switched.
It's Val Kilmer.
Remember when he was Iceman? Or Batman? Or Chris Knight (the single-biggest basis for my humor today)? Or the nameless dude in "Heat" that got shot up a bunch of times?
Now? He's just fat. Welcome to the club, we've got a seat waiting for you. And we ordered nachos.
-----
Congrats to former colleague Jeff Ruland for landing the head coaching gig with the Albuquerque Thunderbirds.
Hopefully, the Big Fella will get to re-invent himself and get on the fast track to where he should be: on an NBA bench.
For whatever happened in the past is just that: the past. Here's hoping he leaves it there and gets after it in the D-League. Just like the players he'll be mentoring, it's his second and last chance, too.
At the very least, I'll be tuning into the post-game pressers.
-----
Ok, that's all for now.
yh&os,
