How Bobby Jenks and Saltalalalalalalalalalamacchia tried to stress me the frick out. Why would you do that to me, Bobby? Why? Why? Why? Is it because you weren’t loved as a child? Does it have anything to do with a beloved family pet? Because Bobby, I’m not a fricking psychologist. I’m just a girl. Trying to watch a game. Damnit.
Grrr.
Damnit, Salty!
“I was looking for Bobby — I looked at him real quick, turned around; I didn’t think the ball hit off my glove, I thought I had trapped it in the dirt,” Saltalamacchia said of the passed ball. ” Obviously not.
Bobby Jenks!
You let BOBBY ABREU kick your ass! You were out Bobbied and you ARE a Bobby! Damnit, Jenks.
Matt Albers?!
Who ARE you and why are you trying to ruin my game?!
Bobby Jenks!
You deserve two chastisements! For shame!
Salty!
You too, Salty.
“It was frustrating. I’ve never done that before. I can’t remember ever doing that. But we still got the win.”
—–
Darn tootin’.
Six of the past seven? Wins.
3.5 games out. Oh, and Bucky boy? We’re a half game from not last.
9:05, soxies. 9:05.
Here’s to hoping that the time machine has been destroyed for good and old school Dice-K will have to make an appearance tonight. And YES Crawford. I saw that. It was okay. It still wasn’t worth a katrillion billion dollars. Geez, Crawford. No, that’s all the recognition you get. Don’t like it? Why don’t you go journal about it?
Paps, I love you.
~L
I don’t think Bobby Abreu has stopping running yet…I didn’t even know he could run…had plenty of time to do so, however. That being said, here come the Sox…as we knew they would…
Hey, I like City of Angels!