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Live Blog: Sox vs Rangers. Oh. And more ranting about Bobby V. And HATE MAIL!

April 17, 2012 48 comments

It’s 7:10 p.m. and I’m off work, damnit. And I’m going to watch this game, damnit. With or without you. AND- if you’re lucky and this game is boring, I’ll even respond to hate mail about my post yesterday.

Hate mail from people who clearly don’t read my blog.

Otherwise they’d know how much I LOVE hate mail.

And how much LESS sorry it makes me.

Oh. A base hit. Oh. A guy at first. A guy at third. Oh.

You know. I said all along Bobby V’s not a longterm manager. I have this theory that he’s a place holder until Farrell’s contract in Toronto is up.

Lesterrrrrrr… double play… Kills the half. Sweetness.

We are two minutes late and Jerry Remy is killing time with the Don.

They’re talking about Bobby V and how it’s “blown over.”

“Everybody seems to be on the same track with this thing,” Jerry says.

I’m not, Jerry. I AM NOT.

“It’s a learning process between both sides right now,” Jerry says.

I have lots to teach.

Again on how this is SOOOOOO not about Youkie. I would be this irate if Bobby V talked smack about anyone- even… JOHN LACKEY. Talk smack, seriously. I take that back. Talk the smack all you want. In the clubhouse. In a sternly worded letter to Youkilis. To Cherington. Hell, trade him. Fire him. Make him run laps. Take his beard away. I don’t care. But DO NOT TALK SMACK TO THE MEDIA.

All I ask.

7:12. Jon Lester is out. So I have to try to swallow the grumbles. FOR NOW.

Strike two. I love you, Jon Lester, and your keen ability to turn my frown upside down. Seriously. It was a Cody Ross scowl and now it’s an Ortiz high five grin.

7:14. And…

Oh. I’m frowning again. As he singles. You know.

My boss today tapped my Red Sox season schedule (the small office one, not the massive one at my house) and smirked and said, “Have they won a game yet?”

Smirk.

Why yes, surely they have.

Because we are winners. As we shall show you nine innings from now. Jon Lester last faced the Rangers on Opening Day last year- that game we lost ridiculously. Thanks for the reminder, Don.

Strike out. K-count? ONE.

Boom.

I want to be one of the K people. If I make it to Fenway, can we make sure that happens? Thanks.

I do not want to judge, but the crowd does not look focused today. I’d be focused. I would be.

7:24. Bottom of the first and Aviles is on first, guys!

Dustin Pedroia………. air to center field… AND HOME RUN.

That’s a two run home run.

That’s a two nothing lead.

THAT is my Dustin Pedroia.

AND a hit from Adrian Gonzalez? WHO ACTUALLY RUNS?

What world is this? Oh. Our world. OUR world, damnit. 7:27.

And THE David Ortiz steps up…

Caught. But it’s okay, see, because KEVIN YOUKILIS is up. Did I hear a boo? Did you DARE boo MY husband?

Righhht… a “groin” problem. Right. I would have kept him out of the lineup yesterday too.

It’s okay, baby. It’s just you and me. And… um… right. Everyone… um… else.

Oh. I’m getting angry again. Oh.

Strike three. Am I being redundant when I say I blame Bobby V?

Who’s with me?

Bah.

It’s okay, see, because Ryan Sweeney is here. Off the wall! Boo. Yah.

My boyfriend is on second. He did that for my husband. Weeeeird.

But great.

It is 7:32. Cody Ross. The guy I want to like. And kind of do. But kind of don’t, just because of his frowny faces…

Hi, Cody. I get why you frowned yesterday, those silly crayon calls and all…

But today is a new day. And we have two people on base. Smile it off, Cody.

Pedroia looks perplexed in the dugout.

Or awkward. or something.

Probably because Bobby V asked him to pass the chewing gum or something.

Ross retired at first.

2-0 RED SOX.

You are in the Ohio Valley?! There IS an Ohio Valley? Is there an Ohio mountain? I’ve been to Ohio. This one time. It was cold. And a piece of my hair broke off like in “Cool Runnings.” And I cried about it. And my tears froze to my face. (mostly) true story.

Hi, Mr. Buck.

Another K. That means strike out. I would be such a great K gal. Just saying.

I have been to West Virginia. It is cold there too.

I think my most favoritist K-Youk collector, Paul, is going to join us as well.

Bees’ knees.

You know what’s NOT the Bees’ Knees? A double.

Who “takes” strike two. Takes? Sometimes baseball phrasing confuzzles me, Don.

Remember that time last year when they had Mike Lowell in the booth? I’d like to see that again. I’d like to-

FRICKDOUBLEFRICK. Napoli homers. And now it’s an even slate at 2-2. Which, if you think about it, completely negates all the funtastic hitting our most favorite Dustin Pedroia did…

Whateverwhateverwhatever. It’s just the top of the second, people.

7:42. I think that is the best comment I have ever seen, Bruce. The BEST comment. I shall make one. That’s perfect. Like my wedding. Initially, I wanted swans, but they’re quite nasty creatures, actually. I think we’re going to get dolphins instead.

Jon Lester is on his 30th pitch. Which is fouled. Full count. You know. Because that’s how he rolls. With my heart in his fricking knuckles.

I do NOT like this. One out walk for Alba. I DO NOT LIKE THIS. Oh no. Larry Lucchino joins us in the booth. Actually, I kind of want that. I have some things I’d like to say to Larry Lucchino.

You have MET Kevin Youkilis? Buck, your next comment better contain a detailed description followed by contact information.

Hi, Paul.

7:45… the announcers seem to be having some trouble filling time today.

Is it Troy Alba or Troy Alber? I don’t care.

Still only one out in the inning that takes forever… oh. A base hit for Gentry. Oh. Third hit of the inning for Texas. Jon Lester… Jerry just called you “shaky.” Unjello yourself and FOCUS, damnit.

Oh. Larry will be here to “tell us about that special day,” more 100 Anniversary stuff.

That is NOT what I want to hear from you, Larry.

You better ask him some actual questions, Don.

You asked Mo Vaughn questions. Remember that?

Do you think Stephen King is there tonight?

I am not going to argue with a call in our favor… but that looked a little sketch…

Not a good day to misstep, ump.

They keep closing up on this guy who is constantly scratching his head. I shall call him Scratchy. Ball four.

LOADED bases. From crappy pitching.

I think I just saw a “damnit” from Bobby V.

Doesn’t seem so snarky today, does he? How’s that spray tan working for your home life, Bobby?

Oh… down the third base line… and Lester just holds the ball. For funsies? So it’s 3-2. Because Jon Lester felt like watching. Bet Bobby V told him too.

“The wise thing by holding onto the baseball,” Jerry says.

Don’t get it.

Scott Atchison is warming up. FDA is thrilled.

Hamilton hits to left. ROSS FORGETS TO CATCH. AGAIN.

4-2.

Thanks, Cody.

And THAT doesn’t make you frown?

Two outs. Bah.
You know who I miss? Adrian Beltre. Well, hi, Adrian….

Crapola! Computer…. Mozilla… Crashes… Have to relaunch MLB… Have no idea what is happening! Crap, crap, crap! Chaos, I say!

It is back. 8pm. Something about dustin? What did Dustin do? Why are our bases loaded? Dear god, why are our bases loaded?!

It is 8:02. And, if the Rangers weren’t clipping fouls, we would walk our way off another cliff.

Lester is broken!

I bet it was Bobby V.

Just saying.

8:03. Inning ends. But, you know. After 43 pitches and four Texas runs. Maybe the spray tan is contaminating the bull pen. You know, making Lester’s eyes water? It could happen. It could happen, right? Does spray tan cause leprosy? Has anyone studied that?

“Let’s take a look back at last inning,” Remy says. Of course. Let’s. I mean, it was four seconds ago. But sure. Let’s do it.

Hey, do you have any chickengate footage while you’re at it?

No?

Blahblahblahblah.

Salty. Salty will fix this. He’ll… SPICE it up. (I am hilarious)

Best Salty pun wins a smile!

Bobby Valentine is going over to talk to Lester. Oh. Yeah. That’ll fix it.

It was odd that it took Lester awhile to get to the mound earlier, I agree, Don.

Jason Repko is coming up…

Strike one. It’s the third one that counts, Jason. For a second, you looked like Mike Lowell. I miss Mike Lowell. Do you know mike Lowell, Repko? You should look him up.

I feel like he is watching over us today. I really do.

Strike three. And Repko is super out.

Looked like an outside ball to me….

Hi, Mike Aviles. Continue to defy my low, low expectations for you, please.

Aviles’ bat went somewhere. That’s… um… not the goal…

And that’s over. Texas at bat after an annoying commercial with animated birds.

It is 8:13. And they are talking to some meteorologist INSTEAD of watching the game.

Todd Gutner? I do not know who you are. And I do not care. And I do not like your tie. Wear Red Sox colors when you are going to be wasting my FENWAY time, buddy.

And we have enough spray tanner in the clubhouse, Todd Gutner.

Well, I’m glad the booth missed that spectacular dodge. That not-catch looked intentional. Man on first. Blah.

Todd Gutner is feeling reeealllyyyyy cool right now.

Bah.

Don is asking him if he’s a storm guy or an in-studio guy.

Um. Don, he wears makeup and spray tanner. Let’s hazard a guess.

Can we watch the game now?

Yes, Buck, EVERYONE loves Mike Lowell.

Look. Ball four. Another on first.

How’d that convo with Lester work out, Bobby V????

See, some people think the Bobby V poomouth is a tactic. Is this a tactic too, Bobby V?

I know! Let’s load up the bases and THEN think about Atchison.

Zero outs. Mm-hmmm.

It’s okay, Jon. It’s not your fault. You’re clearly broken.

It’s Bobby V’s fault for not forcibly lassoing your shaky ass onto the bench. A move he probably learned from Curt Young. I bet Curt Young and Bobby V are friends.

I bet they throw pennies in fountains together, braid hair and go for double pedicures.

“Getting very close to having to make a decision here…”

CLOSE, Remy?

Ball four. Bases loaded.

Oh good. Yes. Here you go, Scott. Bases loaded. No outs. But hey, at least you get a pep talk from Bobby V…

Best Bobby V pun wins… um… something!

Seriously, take Youk-gate out of the convo- how annoyed are we with Bobby V right now?

And why do you think Lester was late on the mound? Bet it has something to do with why he’s early off of it…

WHAT?! MIKE LOWELL? WHERE?! Don’t toy with me, Bruce…

8:23. In case we forgot, Don’s reviewing the damage. Instead of stalling with a monologue about our faults, I’d like to see CARTOONS, Don Orsillo. Can you make that happen? Who should I talk to?

Hi, Scott. Want me to make you a Blame Bobby t-shirt? Oh, Youkie… way to force an out. I love you SO.

5-2 lead. Rangers.

“he’s lucky he didn’t get spiked at third…”

Says Remy.

Yikes. Youkie made a Jacoby face and I was worried for a millisecond. I blame Bobby V.

Scott Atchison reminds me of Dennis Quaid. I have said that before.

We WILL do better, Buck. Farrell. You wait and see.

I DID like Bobby V. I think that’s why this hurts so much…

Grrr.

I’m not angry. I’m just disappointed. AND ANGRY.

Another full count. Ball four as Scotty catches the Lester disease and throws one in the dirt. Bobby V looks uncomfortable. Maybe it’s pre-leprosy. check his fingers!

This guy’s name is Elvis Andrus. And he will strike out. You’ll see.

Bases are loaded.

LOADED. Just the way Lester likes ‘em. Only it’s Atchison up there treading water.

“Pretty good test here for the Red Sox…”

What about the Tampa “test?”

Thanks Remy. He’s got our backs, see.

And it’s in the air… deep… Sweeney makes the catch because he loves us, but it’s still now 6-2.

Matt Albers is warming in the pen. Because, why not?

Base hit. Another score. 7-2. Yep.

Think I can blog and make food at the same time? Bet I can during THIS game…

I mean, if I could stop getting e-mails. Smartphones kind of mean you are allllwwaaaayyyysss working.

I like adding extra letters to things. Kind of like how our pitchers like adding balls to things.

Ryan Sweeney makes another catch. I’d like to point out that MY husband and boyfriend made ALL the outs in that inning.

Hi, Jup!

I think the pitching coach is a figurehead. He’s like the Queen of England to Bobby V’s Tony Blair.

I see it.

8:34. Dustin Pedroia will save us all. He’s like that midget in that movie where the dwarf saved everyone. It was like, fantasy or something, and I didn’t actually see it, I just told people I saw it.

Like the first Terminator.

First out? FIRST OUT? That did NOT happen in the movie I just referenced. I don’t think.

Adrian Gonzalez is hitting. He is going to smack it out of the park so that he doesn’t have to run quickly. You’ll see. Adrian is 7 for 8 in his career against this guy, so I am expecting Greatness. GREATNESS.

Weird camera angles tonight, no?

I think the umpire just said “I’m sorry, two and one.”

YOU’RE SORRY?

Bah. Out. Two outs.

Hell, bring back Wakefield? No hell about it. I wanted Wakefield to stay all along.

Because Wakefield is like Batman. He may not have actual super powers like Superman, but he is a badass and his movies make more money.

El Tiante? That sounds like something I would like to yell.

David Ortiz should play the entire lineup. He should- Oh, Hi, Kevin Youkilis.

I love you.

I’ve always loved you.

I will always love you.

Like in THIS song.

Oh.

Well. Um. At least I have something to sing during the commercial break.

Doooowwwn…

And it’s totally relevant, right?

I think I have this amazing talent for finding the perfect song, really.

It is 7-2. And Larry Lucchino is here.

I mean, he’s going to do a PR vomit, but hopefully he’ll also say something about Youk-gate.

He’s wearing flannel under his suit. Is he wearing flannel under his suit? Or just plaid. It is a poor choice, regardless, Larry. we KNOW you can afford clothes.

Okay. If we’re not going to watch the game, I’d like to watch you answering some actual questions, Larry.

Like why the FRICK you people made investments in soccer and not baseball?

Oh. And why the FRICK you didn’t forcibly tweeze Farrell from Toronto.

Oh… and why the FRICK you didn’t buy us an Oswalt? Or an equivalent.

Oh. And Scutaro. EXPLAIN THAT, Lucchino.

Oh. Sure. Talk about plaques instead. I’m sure that’s what everyone wants to hear.

“The Friday thing has got tremendous national attention…”

Mmmmhmm.

Oh look. He’s done talking.

AND YOU CALL YOURSELVES JOURNALISTS. Do Don and Jerry call themselves journalists?

I’d like to know when the next YACHT trip is.

Your dad looks like WAKEFIELD, Buck? Interesting…

It is 8:47. I know Scotty struck someone out. But I don’t really know what happened because Larry Lucchino was talking a lot. Maybe that’s why we don’t have Roy Oswalt.

Comeonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn. Can you just make contact with the fricking ball already????

Oh. Um. Not like that. Um. Beltre catches for the first out.

Bah.

THEY ARE STILL TALKING ABOUT PLAQUES? Can’t you do that on your own time? Or on Twitter or something?

I want a lemonade.

Cody Ross. Doing the Ross. That’s my new phrase for horribly sad grimace. Oh…. And he is on FIRST BASE! Oh, Ross, that’s nothing to Ross about! Turn that Ross upside down!

Salty does nothing.

Oh. And there are two outs.

Jason Repko. This will not end well for us.

Pray to Fisk for a MIRACLE.

A MIRACLE!

Off the wall… Ross makes it to third and… Repko is out at base.

I bet Bobby V eats miracles. I bet he fries them up and eats them like chicken.

8:52.

Yes. Wine is good, Jup. I was having glasses of wine. But then I decided drinking from the bottle meant I didn’t have to keep pouring glasses of wine. It was a decision based on efficiency, really.

Hi, Dennis Quaid.

Maybe Mike Lowell can pitch. I mean, if he applies himself.

The Yanks got Pettitte back. I’ll start a letter writing campaign. Dear Pedro…

Atchison STRIKES out… one out… yay…

I’m still writing to Pedro.

Dear Pedro Martinez,

Please come home.

Love,

Lauren.

Through the legs and into center. Of course. And Genry is on first.

Maybe Aviles should play target at a county fair. You know? And dodge water balloons or something. He’d be good at that.

Considering him and Cody Ross like to dodge balls so much.

It’s like the worst game of dodgeball EVER tonight.

Steeeeee-rike.

Mike Aviles goes down face first…

and those of us still traumatized by Jacoby CHOKE ON OUR WINE.

He is okay… He is okay…

He is okay, right?

And another out. But it’s still 7-2, see, and I’m still not pleased about that.

9:02. Maybe my wine is kicking in- but I really think it’s going to be okay now. I have a really good feeling about this inning, guys…

Rock out with me (it’s more fun than listening to Don talk)

I do not like thinking about balloons floating around and killing birds in Boston, guys. But Bobby McFerrin wants me to stop worrying and be happy, so…

Mike Aviles, see, is going to-

Oh. He’s out already?

Bobby McFerrin! There is NOTHING in your song about-

Okay… every little thing… is going to be okay…

Not worrying…. about a thing…

Hi, Dustin Pedroia! I’m not worried.

About a thing… Because every little thing… is going to be-

CAUGHT?

Bobby McFerrin?!

Okay… okay… not worrying… nope…

Be happy…

Ooooooooohooohooohooohoooohhhhhhhhhh

Be happy…

When you’re worried call me…

What’s your number, Bobby McFerrin?

Okay, okay. Adrian Gonzalez. You’re right, Bobby McFerrin.

“When you’re worried, your face will frown and that will bring everybody down…”

Okay, Bobby.

How can you listen to this song and not bob your head back and forth? Seriously. Which beats what I was doing before. The glaring at Bobby V and swigging wine thing.

I really feel like we’re-

Out?

OUT?

What a STUPID song.

“It will soon pass, whatever it is.”

Well, you got that part right, at least, Bobby McFerrin.

You tell ‘em, Louis.

Oh look! More game!

7-2. And a ground ball!

Oh. He’s out. He’s out?

He is out!

Maybe there’s like, an inning delay on Bobby McFerrin magic?

“It’s just one of those nights. Everybody hast them.”

DO NOT pander to us, Jerry Remy.

Do NOT-

Adrian… catches it?

Two outs?

TWO OUTS?

Neato.

Thanks, Bobby McFerrin. It’s nice to have a Bobby on our side. A Bobby that gives us hope. A Bobby that supports us and-

Oh. A home run.

Nobodddddyyyyyy knows… but Jesus…

8-2. Inning is over.

Bah.

It’s okay, you guys. Eighth inning MIRACLE time… sixth inning? Really? Damn.

Right, BRUNO MARS? RIGHT?

Really, Bruno? That’s what you look like? And one out.

Clearly, Ortiz, you need to watch more Sesame Street.

Kevin Youkilis is batting. But he’s Cupid Cursed. So…

See? Strike out. That was YOUR strike out, Bobby V.

A double! A double! By who? MY Ryan Sweeney, of course.

Oh look. The Cody Ross scowl. He should listen to Bobby McFerrin, but on his own time. We have a game to play, see.

Inning is OVER.

I mean, I do blame someone. But you know how I hate calling people out.

I like wine. And music.

Baseball is better with both. Seriously. Let’s create Baseball: The musical! We could Skype it?

Yes?

9:23. Hi, Matt Albers. It is the top of 7th and not the 15th, apparently. Even though it feels like the 15th.

I am jealous of your Merlot. I am zinfandeling it tonight.

Rossssssssss… catches it. Whew. Was worried. What with it coming toward you, Ross. Thanks for remembering how to catch. THIS time.

Jup, have you ever seen “The Guild?” It is on Netflix. And it is about gaming. And I have never played video games. But I do play sports spectating, and sometimes I think it’s the same thing.

We could write a much better musical. There would be so much drama. I mean, obviously, it would star Jason Varitek. And, obviously, a side plot would be my fantastic love with Kevin Youkilis. It would be heartwarming. And we could include Lugo for comic effect!

Mike… Timlin… yes… do you think he needs a job? Because we may need a manager soon…

That is EXACTLY what I mean, Jup!

Hi, FDA! Jon Lester broke.

I like Salty. I do. I don’t care. I think he COULD save us. Maybe he needs inspiration. He’d get some if life was a musical.

Ohcrudmuffins. They caught you, Salty. And there is an out.

And Jason Repko is up. Should we just skip ahead to the out? Everyone cool with that? You know, time constraints and all…

Oh. Apparently not, because he’s still batting.

Oh… high ball… oh…

Never mind. Strikes out. For a second I thought…

Sigh.

Why is the booth talking about chihuahahs? I can’t even spell that, apparently. And I REFUSE to look it up.

Because it is IRRELEVANT.

Mike Aviles strikes out.

Yep.

Everyone strikes out.

I mean, at least they’re bonding as a team?

MIRACLE inning. I feel it.

Come on. Turn your volume up and belt it out Mariah style. It’s our ONLY SHOT!

Jup… I think Tek wants us to do this. I think he… SAFE?

And then Kevin Youkilis will sing a song about vengeance. And rip his hair out in anger. And that’s why he’s bald…

It will be very dramatic. Like that suicide Javert song in Les Mis! Where the lights swirl! The lights will SWIRL.

What a dumb game.

I don’t even know if animated musicals can save us now…

It is the top of the 8th. Which is fine. Because all we need are seven runs, really. That’s all.

What a STUPID game.

Josh Hamilton allegedly got a home run. Um. Allegedly. And it’s allegedly 11-2.

Zero outs. Oh. Look. Another deep ball. Oh. Look. Another home run. Oh. Look.

12-2. Allegedly.

I love that. I love that so much. And John Lackey could realize the error of his ways and purposefully pull his hamstring in a moment of great self-awareness and self-sacrifice.

It would start angry. And then end in swirly lights. Like THIS.

Cole Porter was right. It is so much more fun to write musicals than watch baseball. And, um, Jup… we’re kind of AMAZING at this.

Mark Melancon could be the subject of an ensemble comedy song. See, you know, as people try to pronounce his name…

12-2… The world I have known… is lost in shadow…

Oh look. A home run.

14-2.

Oh look.

I can’t stop looking…

Can’t stop… Can’t…

Yeah. So… Um… Bobby V… we are SO broken up.

This time it’s because you let Jon Lester stay in forever.

My music taste is random tonight. Um.

Jed Lowrie is an understudy’s DREAM, Jup!

You and I could be an angry girl chorus! Like those girls in Little Shop of Horrors? But ANGRY. And with better hair.

I am paying much more attention to the musical in my mind than this game… 9:57.

Youkilis can’t catch. Yep. Bobby V’s fault.

Yep.

Why do we let them do this to us, Jup?

Do you think we could get Bernadette Peters to play Dustin Pedroia? She could pull off ANYTHING.

I love her.

Oh look. Another score.

15-2.

Oh look.

Anything but down…

Everything is crashing to the ground… well maybe I’m not your perfect kind… maybe I’m not what you had in mind… and maybe we’re just killing tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime.

I love music.

Jup. For homework. We need to come up with some fantastic musical scenarios. It has to be us. Because we are so talented. This might be why we’re here, Jup. To share this talent with others.

I love you, Youk. For throwing it, even though it’s a foul. Because you are TRYING. Because you are IN THE GAME.

Oh. Off the wall. Oh. 16-2. Oh. No matter. I am PERFECTLY CALM. Go ahead, Rangers. Just GO AHEAD. I don’t care. You and the umpires make a very happy couple, really. This is for you too, BOBBY V.

It’s 16-2, of course. OF COURSE.

Oh. The inning is over. Oh.

Yes. Oh… and Larry Lucchino could big in an ominous spotlight in the background….

Maybe we could end with controversy… you know? Like Bobby V laughing because he thinks he has won. It would be a nice set up for a sequel…

Oh no. They are giving up. Clearly. WHY ARE THEY GIVING UP? It’s just 15 runs, you guys! That’s all!

HOME RUN FOR A-Gonz!!!
See? Just fourteen more and…

Um…

YAY, home run for A-Gonz!!!!

Tottttally going to be fine.

Two outs? Fiiiine.

All we need is one.

Fiiiiiine. We. Are. Fiiiiine.

Oh. Look. And Bobby Valentine strikes out to end the inning. YOU HEARD ME.

Vincente. We need your serial killer eyes now.

And then we need heads to roll. SERIOUSLY. 14 home runs. ANYTHING LESS IS UNACCEPTABLE.

Vincente. He might wrestle crocodiles (he totally does that) and kill people with his eyes, but he LISTENS.

Oh.

Look.

Another home run.

Oh.

And a hit. Oh.

18-3.

Um.

Okay. We can.

Um. Okay.

Um. 17 homeruns? We need that extra homerun.

20 homeruns?

Jup- a step ahead of you. Just makes you nauseous.

I feel…

Um…

Betrayed…

Betrayed enough to do…

THIS:

Music, I would MUCCCHHHH rather listen to you than Don and Jerry right now.

I am so angry.

I am angry.

I am angry and nothing can appease me. NOTHING.

Oh, yay! Ryan Sweeney!

It’s Ryan Sweeney, you guys! He’s on a base! And there are zero outs! And… um… only 16 runs to score! That’s all you guys! It could be worse. It could be 17. They were trying really hard to make it 17. And by they, I of course, mean US.

Desperate times call for… MORE ANIMATION.

WAIT. Celine, you are NOT in the Lion King…

You have cursed us all. Two outs.

Thanks a lot, CELINE.

I have had more wine and decided we will be fine. Because-

Wait… is that Jason Repko? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, BOBBY V????

Vincente and Adrian are asking themselves the same thing.

Oh look. a STRIKE OUT. How very UNFRICKINGPREDICTABLE.

I am angry. Too angry for hate mail. Hate mail, I will deal with you tomorrow.

And Jup. You know the mission.

We have work to do.

And. Um. Things to drink.

Good night.

To everyone except for Bobby V. And Jason Repko. And Celine Dion.

~L

Categories: Drunken Live Blogging

Bard-o-drama starts 7ish!

April 10, 2012 47 comments

6:55- I have a theory that tonight’s game is a big deal.

Not because of Canada (sorry, Hosers). And not because of the possibility of another swell Santos outing. But because of one man.

DANIEL BARD.

See, tonight, we get to see if the Bard experiment meets up with the Valentin-o-thesis (hypothesis… get it? No?).

Tonight’s game, in that sense, is more important than the Beckett outing (we already knew he could be flukey). And Lester (who wasn’t so bad considering). And Buccholz (meh) and Doubront.

Tonight’s game is going to give us a definite feel for the immediate future of starting pitching- and give the haters a true idea of how screwed we are (or aren’t).

Here’s hoping I’m wrong and that Bard dominates…

I’ll be on intermittently – but I am still at work… so the live blogging will be more infrequent and less drunken. Bah. Oh. And I have a date later. But it’s at a bar. So best believe my focus will be on you, Bard.

I’m interested in your live thoughts as the game progresses- so definitely keep commenting, kids.

Last night was fun.

Let’s do it again…

—-

7:03. Well. Um. At least there’s no seven million minute intro this time.

7:35 I am illegally blogging in traffic because ESPN radio says we are losing! Is it as bad as it sounds???

7:42. Just got home. Bard has his sad face on…

ONE run isn’t so bad, really. ESPN radio had me thinking Soxpocalypse Part Deux…

Hmmm. Arencibia is batting. I can blog, watch baseball and curl my hair at the same time. Yep. Oh no! Did you see that? Ball knocked off Salty’s mask. That’s like, the second attempt on your life in as many days, Jarrod!

I am glad you’re okay.

Nice strikes. This doesn’t look so bad… I am suspicious. Why doesn’t this look so bad? One out. And Arencibia strikes out. So we’re at KK now…

Really, why the panic, ESPN? Were you seeing something I wasn’t? Confuzzled.
Three outs!

Word up.

Hi, FDA. Would you wear your hair up or down if you were going to have drinks with a super Democrat? 9:46.

Tonight is Twitter Tuesday at Rogers Centre? There’s a Twitter Tuesday? What the frick is that, Canada…

7:49. Did I hear that correctly? Did Youkie poo hit something earlier?

These announcers sure are critical of their own guys…

Nick Punto! Is that you? I am excited to s-

Oh. And it’s caught.

Oh. Well. Um.

Ellsbury- easily thrown out at first. EASILY.

Ellsbury, you are SCARING me.

“I’ll take my chances with young pitchers who have stuff any time,” announcer says.

UmK.

“It’s worked for Atlanta over the years.”

Really?

One, two, three outs.

FDA- I’m thinking the kid’s okay. I’m thinking I’ll get to (thankfully) eat my words. 7:53. Optimism is a NICE way to end the work day…

“The growth continues for a young pitcher.” The Canadian announcers think they are narrating a movie and not a game.

Hi, Daniel.

“Four of the five starters came through the Red Sox-minor league system…”

Yep.

“That’s a real good thing for an organization. To grow your own starters.”

Yep.

Remember Masterson?

I miss Masterson.

I mean, not at this particular second, because you’re kind of kicking ass, Bard. Tek would be so proud (TEK!).

Do you think Tek’s watching this game?

CRAP. I hope Tek didn’t watch that. Centerfield hit.

It is okay. Please do not break down like you do sometimes when they pile up, D-Bard… it’s just ONE guy at first. You still have this. I mean, it’s Kelly Johnson at the bat…

FOCUS.

The booing is kind of immense today…

TooSoxy visitor Mike (a Toronto fan) is AT the game today. I hope he is having fun and taking pictures. Particularly of Brett Lawrie.

SERIOUSLY, PEDROIA???

Was that leap for show? Because you COMPLETELY missed. In case you didn’t notice.

And now there are two people at bases. I mean… JUST two people, Bard. No reason to break into stress sweats like you did last year.

JUST two people. First and second. Just two people…

Oh. Hi, Bautista.

FDA. That is scary. Because I am doing so many multiple things. 8:01. Bautista, apparently, has never hit Bard. So. Um. That’s goooood.

There are no outs, by the way. And jays at first and second.

Bautista is doing this stupid chewy spit thing that would be embarrassing if we gave a frick about Bautista.

Bard’s eyes are doing his glinty fearful thing. Crap.

Bautista tossed the bat aside and got a late strike call and there were boos and it was hilarious.

Especially since it was such an OBVIOUS strike.

Full count, sucka.

And an awesome strike. The 360 strike that looks like it hurts. NICE one, Bard. You can do this. ONE fricking out.

Adam Lind, aka Squinty, is at bat. You know. Squinting. Cause he’s good at that.

“The cleanup spot behind Jose Bautista is really important and he knows he needs to do his job.”

Well, I hope he knows that. Another astute announcer observation.

Base hit up the middle with two strikes… Escobrat scores. 2-0, Jays.

It’s JUST two runs, Bard. WIPE that look off your face. WIPE. IT. OFF. You’re with the big boys now, Daniel.

Because they are Canadians and they lost their towels, that’s why, FDA.

Encanaswat is batting. And Daniel’s doing his nervous thing with his eyes…

Grrrr.

I am doing something with MY eyes too.

Canada is rallying or something. They are quite loud. Oh. Security is chasing a fan.

“We’re not going to show you that, of course…”

WHY NOT, CANADA?

Apparently, Bobby V got upset last night when they threw out debris? I don’t remember that.

Wow, Bobby V looks pretty peeved right now. Nicely timed closeup, Canada…

8:07. FDA, take a benadryl. It’s probably your losing allergy acting up again.

We’re talking about determination now. Because, you know. That’s unique.

Back to action… high pitch… of course.

“They need to get the bats rolling a bit.”

“They’re looking for that big hit.”

Oh, announcer astuteness.

Come on, BARD. Get it together.

A pop… OUT. Jacoby catches the ball. It is nice that he remembers to catch. At least he knows he is playing baseball. I mean, you wouldn’t know it from his h-

OH! Brett Lawrie is up! Brett Lawrie is up!

Some bitch in the crowd has a “Marry Me, Brett Lawrie” sign.

Whatev.

Try not to be distracted by Brett’s hotness, Bard.

We should buy Brett Lawrie. See? Base hit.

Kelly Johnson is at home. Salty looked like he had it. But whatever.

It is 3-0 Jays, of course.

And now Daniel Bard’s about to really lose it.

Does anyone have an extra chill pill they can throw at him?

“A chance to break the game wide open here…”

Really? Because it’s 3-0. And you’re batting. A CHANCE? The game IS wide open.

Um.

John Farrell, I miss you.

Do you think Bard would pitch like this if Tek was here?

Toronto, I like your gloves.

Strike out. KKKK for Bard. But it’s 3-0. So no one is going to remember that part, Daniel.

Hi, John!

It is way hard to curl your hair and type, btw.

Papi is batting. There is one out. And more panic on twitter than when Josh pitched- and he was way worsem, btw…

Pop out…

YOUKKKKK

OW.

I just burned the sh$% out of myself. Three outs. Um…

Seriously- I cannot believe I am the one defending him… but Bard is not THAT bad… I mean… I was expecting worse…

2 outs.

And 3 outs. See?

8:28. My boyfriend, Ryan Sweeney, is batting.

Bah.

Now it’s Frowny. Aka, Cody Ross, the guy whose attitude we broke. DOUBLE.

Nice. And Salty is at first. So. Salty at first, Ross at third… and we’re starting to play.

Don’t you love it when hitters at least TRY to back up their pitchers? Remember when that was an expectation?

TWO outs. But a solid foundation to score, really. One would think.

Nick Punto, I am NOT impressed with you.

And… one out later… I’ll second my own statement. BAH.

Daniel Bard. 8:37. Announcers just called him a roller coaster.

Pedroia SNAGS it out of the air for the first out. I like that, announcer. SNAGS. Because that’s exactly what he did. ONE out. It’s teh 5th, in case you were wondering.

Well… the offense COULD be worse. i love it when JB strikes out… 2 outs…

What is the basketball score? How are my heat doing?

Oh no. They just mentioned Tek again. SNIFF.

Cleaning inning. Out. Good job, Bard.

Walking my dog. Steven, you are in charge.

OHMYGOD. Ellie just had a fish in her mouth. I am not kidding. Someone threw out a fish. And she tried to…

OHMYGOD I just touched a fish. And I have a date at 9:15. SO much washing. SO much.

I think I’ll have to redo my hair. It has been near fish.

8:50. Okay. The cries of ewewewewewewewewew emanating from my lips are starting to subside.

I am really thrilled about the lead off walk. like, really thrilled. But I kind of wish it was a lead off HIT.

Come on, Pedroia. It’s like he listens to me. OFF THE WALL!

Ellsbury stopped at third. Pedroia at second.

That’s a great place for Ellsbury to be. (Ah… Pettitte home steal… ah… memories…)

Pedroia. You are happy (pay attention Ross). You can hit (AHEM, Youk). And you are adorable (Um, Lackey).

You are everything we should be.

That’s why you are president of the “those-who-give-a-sh$%” club.

A-Gonz. Remember that thing we talked about? The RUNNING thing?

I think we should watch Forrest Gump together. Then I can explain some things.

Changeup to center… Bautista catches. ELLSBURY! SCORE.

Pedroia… hit him… crap. Are you okay, Dustin? You can tell me.

Are you broken? DAMN you, Toronto… if you hurt Dustin…

His elbow…

I love you, Dustin. It is 1-3 now. We shall avenge your elbow. And by we, I mean Papi. Who depends on people like me to cheer for him. So I say we.

SB- Sorta. I’ll be more intermittent soon because I have to leave for my date. It is a bar date. So I’ll be checking in via iphone obnoxiously.

I kind of don’t want to go now. I feel as though I am needed here.

ORTIZ WALKS!

I am just excited to have two people on base. Because that is the exact amount we need. MATH. How I’ve always loved you.

This is for you, Dustin Pedroia.

You are welcome, guys.

There are lyrics if you want to sing along, Steven.

Youkilis is one for two, guys! That means he hit something!

Maybe he’s back. Are you back?

Then I can play this song.

You are welcome again.

Come on, Youkie. I love you more than I love the Backstreet Boys. And that is a lot.

Because I grew up in the 90s.

Oh, I know Steven. I am counting on you.

Hi, Kevin. I love you so much that I’ll put embarrassing-to-admit-I-like-them music videos on my blog.

Double play. CRAPOLA.

I take my song back, Kevin. I TAKE IT BACK.

DAMNIT.

You broke my heart, Youkilis.

Okay. Leaving for the bar. You kids have fun. Be back momentarily via the iphone…

FDA, you can play DJ.

Holy frick. 6-1?! Does this mean I cannot ever leave my house? Starks and o’s are tied 4-4, to the chagrin of stank fans here…

I just asked guy next to me at bar(waiting) what the f happened. He says he took his eyes off for a second. So did god, apparently. Frowny mcfrownerson is batting. 9:28.

I always believed in you, youkie. Never doubted you for a second.
Hi, salty.

Sidebar. You know what I miss about living on the mountain? Bright headlights. You can’t do that in the city…

Come on, salty………
Do it for America! And for homer simpson ( that was for you, mike)….
Or for me. Do it for me.

A walk. ‘at’ll do, salt.

That was in my babe pig farmer voice, btw.

I am glad we have two outs bc punto is batting….

And the. Ellsbury. Remember when that was comforting? Just make it to ellsbury, they’d say…

This sucks.
My friend texts and says he will be here in a sec….
This tv is nesn and I can see jerry remy. They are talking about how well the sox will do if…
I refuse to listen to this.
Hurry up and pitch, perez.
Hi, jacoby.
And he is out…

How annnnnnoying.

Bah. Guy is here. Bah

That sucked. 7-1

It is 11:05. And that was horrible. 7-2. Dustin pedroia is the only reason we are not embarrassed. Speaking of embarrassed- all I can talk about on my “date” is the boy from Boone. I have problems.

Categories: Drunken Live Blogging

Canada, I’m sorry, but we have to take out our Verla-shame on you.

April 9, 2012 121 comments

LIVE BLOG: I’m not just blogging for the Red Sox tonight. I’m blogging for America. So don your American flags and your apple pie (ala mode if it’s heated, now) and join me for tonight’s match up against the evil north.

That’s right- John Farrell’s bringing out the birds.

The blogging will start (and probably more than a few fricks) at 7ish. Expect cursing. Expect beer. And expect videos with carefully constructed sharpie marker illustrations. They are dazzling, I tell you. DAZZLING.

See you at SEVEN? YES???????

Put your game face on. I MEAN it. That does NOT look like your game face!!!!! Canada rolls its eyes at you.

Let’s hope Doubront… um… does something.

No. Not that. A GOOD something.

SEE YOU AT SEVEN.

Dinner. Check.

20120409-183102.jpg

6:38. An American meal. Of Apple PIE.

6:46. Nervous yet?

6:54. One irritating face has been absent for opening week… JOHNNY DAMON! In fun, pre-game giggle news, Johnny Damon STILL hasn’t signed onto a team- a reality that has Scott Boras baffled. There’s Cleveland talk and the likely possibility that he’ll be teamed by May…

But hilariously out of touch people… you know, the ones who didn’t hear him cry last year at Turf-gate, or whimper at the scary mean Boston fans (lower lip trembling, poor ‘ittle guy), are calling this a MYSTERY. Nick Cafardo just can’t figure out why no one will sign him.

Allow me to Nancy Drew it for you.

1. He is old. 2. He is annoying. 3. His ego won’t fit in your ball park. 4. He is old. 5. the ‘tude. And 6. He is old.

Feel free to sleuth it out in the comments.

6:58. Wish the game would starttttttttttttttttt. I am ready to winnnnnnnnn.

YAY.

7:01. The intro music, though for Toronto, is eerily appropriate… “..forgiven my mistakes…”

Hope so, kiddies. Hope so.

There is a lot of music in Canada. This intro is quite dramatic.

“He is THE MOST FEARED HITTER IN BASEBALL.”

Really? Jose Bautista? Really?

I mean. Um.

Okay.

Oh. Now he’s getting his silver slugger award.

Were his ears always that big?

Oh no. They’re passing out those annoying towels. I hate those things.

This game is going to annoy me.

7:05. Remembering athletes who died. This is depressing. Oh no. The family is crying. Oh no. Why are you doing this to me, baseball? Don’t you know apple pie ALREADY makes me emotional? And the Blue Jays are making a $10k donation in the vics’ names. Wow. That’s nice. I’m sorry in advance for the pain our victory will cause you, Canada. You seemed like a really nice country just now.

Now they are defining the word anticipation. A little unnecessary for those of us who have dictionaries. Don’t you think? And there’s this weird intro where they are stitching a blue jay onto a hat. Weeeeeiiirrrdddddd.

I’m just ready to watch some baseball. Can we, um, do that now, please? Thanks. Now we are watching baseball players run? Or are they dancing? It’s hard to tell, actually. Santos just used the word “swagger.” Josh Morrow says he wants the whole country to watch him. Um. Okay. Seriously, kids. I am going to go get food. And maybe play three games of monopoly on my iPhone. I bet I have time. LONGEST INTRO EVER. “We can do all the talking we want but…” Apparently.

7:10. They booed us. I think they think they’re going to hurt our feelings. They REALLY booed Jacoby. Clearly, they haven’t been watching. Hi, Pedroia. A-Gonz slow jogs to the lineup. Yep. Is it just me, or was there more clapping at Youk’s name? Oh. That WAS me. Hi, Papi. Hi, Cody Ross. Hi, new boyfriend Ryan Sweeney. Hello, Jarrod Saltalamacchia. And. Um. Mike Aviles… And Felix Doubront. They didn’t even boo you, Felix Doubront. Poor Felix. Not even netting a boo.

While the Blue Jays are stepping out Kennel Club Dog Show style, I really am going to grab food.

7:15. They’re still at it. Hi, John Farrell! I miss you!

Do you think he misses us? I bet he does. Who wouldn’t? Haha. There is like one, lone guy booing the crap out of Bautista.

7:20. Some of the Jays were cutting up during the National Anthem. Kudos to camera man for THAT closeup.

Hi, Michael!!!! It’s going to be okay. Because they are going to win tonight.

Is it just me, or did Dr. Ron Taylor REALLY not care about that first pitch. He just sort of tossed it. I don’t think his expression changed. Um. At all. Remember last year when Pedro threw out that pitch? Sniff. I’m okay.

Maybe the game will start soon!

This intro is longer than the Titanic.

—-

7:30. Maybe there is no game. Maybe this is just an excuse to arm Canadians with hand towels.

Oh! Oh! Oh! There are people on the field! And Jacoby’s icon just went up! That’s something! Does it… Can it… FIRST PITCH! It’s a miracle. Oh. It’s a warm up. But it involves a baseball.

The announcers are on mute or something. By this point, I fully expect MLB.tv screwups. I’m just glad it’s not checkerboarding this year. I do like the Toronto ballpark…

And I do like you, Jacoby. Hi.

I didn’t like that. Grounds out at first. Blatantly. And the fans whip out those towels…

Pedroia is at bat. He’s three and thirteen, as the announcer kindly tells us.

In case you’re keeping count at home, Toronto announcers have mentioned that the sox are now 0 and 3. THREE times.

Alvarez just tried to kill Pedroia, but missed. I heard Alvarez is like seven years old or something. Remember when we put out our seven year old, aka: Kyle Weilland?

“Pedroia never gets cheated. He swings hard. Might be one of the best high ball hitters in baseball.” ~Announcer says. Right before he grounds OUT to first. Two outs.

We’re having difficulty pronouncing Adrian Gonzalez in the announcer booth. Gonzalez struck out twice, apparently, at his last Alvarez encounter… good. To. Know. I like it when the announcers are helpful. Gonz slugged 815 against the Jays last year, including 8 homeruns. THANK YOU. I like these announcers. I do. Full Count… It’s okay, though, because Kevin Youkilis is on deck. Not that it matters, because Gonz has struck out. Damn, those towels are annoying.

Hi, FDA. I am glad you are back. I KNOW you are annoyed by those towels. I find them more annoying than our scoreless first, actually. John Farrell knows that, I bet. Because he knows me. I bet he KNEW that the way to incur my wrath was to pass out those towels.

7:40. Bob McClure, our new pitching coach, is, apparently, impressed by Felix Doubront. Okay, then. Let’s see. You are not the only one being judged, Doubront. So is your puppet master. First pitch looked good to me. He has a strange clean cut bubble gum chew thing going on. The announcers cut out again. Fix that, MLB. I am determined to be optimistic about you, Doubront.

Ohno. Now they’re talking about Tek. It’s okay. I won’t cry. Now they’re talking about how Tek taught Salty how to catch. Nice breaking ball. Very dramatic. As long as it’s a strike, Doubront. Doubront reminds me of someone and I can’t place it. He has that jackassy indifference thing that is great when he’s striking them out but will be annoying when he makes horrible mistakes. Full count. This at-bat is taking a long time. Do you think Felix shaves his face like that, or is that just how the hair grows? Ellsbury makes a nice catch to save you from my wrath, Felix. One out.

7:45. I think towels are for swimmers, but that’s just me. Bautista is on deck. I don’t think the guy batting is important. he keeps kicking his knee up like a “fierce” chick on America’s Next Top  Model. Doubront definitely LOOKS like he’s keeping his cool. I miss Pedro. Okay, Doubront. These balls are getting irritating. I mean, 15 pitches for two batters?

OKAY, Felix. A walk? A WALK?

Not cool, Felix. Not cool. Oh good. Jose Bautista is batting. Not exactly the time you want to have a guy at first. On the ground…. And double play. Okay. Very cool. I get it. That was totttttally on purpose to move the game along, right? You almost had me going there, Felix. Into inning 2!

Silly FDA. You know I never move on (PEDRO!).

7:50. Kevin Youkilis grounds out but it shouldn’t count because the announcers weren’t paying attention…

David Ortiz will fix this. Alvarez looks a little shaky. I would too. I don’t care who you are, Papi is fricking scary. Unless you are a kid wanting an autograph. Then he’s a big teddy bear. Oh! Oh! Oh! The Papi clap!

A single! A single! David Ortiz, ladies and gents. I love him so.

Hi, Cody Ross. I want to like you. You’re just so happy. Um. That is NOT your happy face. Um… Wow. What a grimace. Cody… is that really you? Yikes. That’s the foulest face I’ve seen on a sox since Padilla…

Um. Double play. Um.

Well.

So. Um. Felix Doubront?

7:55 Hi, Paul!

I think we should have a contest to see who can do the Cody Ross grimace the best.

I don’t know where Jeb is. Probably pillaging.

We have now mentioned the 0 and 3 record in the announcer booth FIVE times.

Come on, Doubront! I believe in you. So does Paul. And FDA. WE believe in you. And that’s all you need, really. Someone to believe in you. Ask Tinkerbell. The cartoon version. Not the lame Julia Roberts version. You don’t have to ask lame Julia Roberts ANYTHING. You could move this game along, though.

NICE catch by my new boyfriend, Ryan Sweeney, for the out.

8 p.m. This is a very long game. Hi, Adam Lind. HURRY BACK, FDA. Tea is much less important than sweet, sweet victory.

TWO OUTS. Brett Lawrie is at bat. I secretly like him a little. Like, not enough to cheer for him. But enough to smile at his pretty face. Okay. That’s over. DESTROY, DOUBRONT. DESTROY.

Well, damn. Single. You were captivated by your crush too, weren’t you, Doubront? It’s not your fault, really. You are forgiven this once. But just this once. Steeeeeerike. Hi, Rajai Davis. You look very young. In the face. Hi, Brett Lawrie. With your juxtaposed clean cut-ness and your nifty tattoos. Stay on first, please.

Focus, Doubront. We have much to do, you and I. We can not be distracted by idle things. If you want to be my favorite pitcher (and this year you have a shot), you better stay FOCUSED and stop hitting on Brett Lawrie. Seriously. You and Brett can get a room after the game if you want. Do you think Brett Lawrie will read this blog?  Salty and Gonz try to catch a foul ball. This is neat, see, because Gonz actually RAN. Total miss. But Gonz actually HUSTLED. No one in the dugout helped. And the announcer commented on that. Ellsbury catches for the third out.

It is never cold in Raleigh, FDA. It’s probably like 111 degrees or something great like that. I love not living on a mountain…

8:08. Top of the third. My new boyfriend is batting. I hope you heard that, Kevin Youkilis. You are still my husband (I can’t quit you), but your recent tryst with a Ms. Brady, coupled by your lack of hitting, has you on thin ice with me, sir. That’s where Ryan Sweeney comes in. Oh. A ground out at first. It’s okay, Ryan Sweeney. You at least look sorry. Apologizing gets you mad points. Hi, Brett Lawrie. Was he looking at me just then?

Hi, Jarrod Saltalamacchia and your switch hitting. The announcer just called you “intriguing.” Yuck. Caught. It’s okay, Salty. Rasmus is such a weird kid. That was a neat catch. I guess.

Mike Aviles. Um. Okay. Maybe he’ll do something really great. Maybe Aviles will be like… a diamond in the rough. Like Aladdin. It could happen. Um. Okay. Clean slate, Aviles. I will seriously forget our history and praise you anew if you can just get on a flipping base. Oh. Swing and a miss. Oh. That was a painful strike too. Oh.

So. Um. Bottom of the third…

8:19. Well. That sucked. A triple. Um. Doubront? You in there?

Crap. Do you think Beckett chickened him? One out. Guy at third. Bah. Bobby V close up. He’s doing this sway thing. He knows. He knows this sucks. And he knows it’s his fault. Bah. Oh no. He’s smiling. Bobby V? Smiling? Really? “Directing the traffic on the infield?” Is it too late for Tito to come back? Do you think he likes his new gig? And John Farrell is watching. This is embarrassing.

And a WALK. Good. So. Um. Two on base now. One out. Good.

Oh. Good. With a dramatic slide, Rasmus scores. Oh.

Doubront has, at least, dropped the jackassy statue stare.

Bobby V has now decided to step outside of the dugout. I think I am just now grasping how irritating Bobby V is to watch.

Tito used to acknowledge suckiness. Remember? But Tito is gone. So really, really this is Larry Lucchino’s fault…

8:25. You’re right, Ellie. We shouldn’t dwell on whose fault it is. My dog is so smart. We should dwell on how we can FIX this problem. Edwin Encarnacion is at bat. Two outs. Can he be the third out? Thanks. It is 1-0. Still. One score is not the end of the world. Please do not be psyched out, Doubront. It’s really not a——

REALLY???? 2-0. This game is crap.

WHO PUT YOU IN THE STARTING LINEUP AGAIN? Oh. That’s right. Bobby V.

No. It’s April. It’s APRIL.

Bah.

We’re okay. It’s just one inning. Just two runs.

“John Farrell has already shown us he is thinking about matchups, thinking about…”

Bah. Pay attention to what the announcer is saying, Bobby V. We can ALL learn from our mistakes. Does it count as a mistake when you just don’t do anything?  Because that’s what is taxing about you, Bobby V. You just don’t do anything.

I know, I know, but Lauren! You don’t manage a team!

I do manage, actually. I manage TETRIS. And, when I’m playing TETRIS, and my L-shaped piece comes out upside down, I adjust.

Well, Bobby V, Doubront is UPSIDE DOWN. Hit the fricking space bar, already!!!!!!

Three outs. Fah-fricking-finally.

That’s dangerous, Paul. I mean, it IS only two runs. You don’t want to KNOW how Kyle would fudge that up…

8:32. I texted Jeb and said “FDA is asking about you.” I just got a response. “My girlfriend?”

Oh. It’s Friday, isn’t it? Yikes. I think the boy will be here Friday. Um. I don’t know if we’re at the “he-can-see-my-sox-side-stage” yet…

Two outs that are eye-roll worthy. Gonz is at the bat. He is more fun to watch now that there is a possibility of him actually running.

Dramatic pronouncements? Me? NEVER.

“Off to a rough start so far this  year.”

SHUT UP, announcers. I never liked you.

Hi, Kevin Youkilis. Love. Light. Seriously. FDA, does he look skinnier? Look at his face. His jowls, as it were. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a fan… but I’d sacrifice hitting power over aesthetics ANY day. Seriously. He’s so pretty today. WHY CAN’T HE HIT????

I do appreciate that the announcer just called Kevin one of the best in baseball. Okay, announcers. I guess we are okay. Oh. A look at Josh Beckett in the dugout. I am sure he is LOVING this game. I am so mad at you, Josh. So mad.

But this is not the time for anger. This is the time for Youkilis. Who I will love. No matter what. She said…

 Jeb and FDA, your love story is going to be so epic that it will become an internet meme and make me famous. I will be invited on the Ellen show and we will dance.

Can you name your first kid Kevin?

FDA! Kevin is my HUSBAND. Get it right.

Hi, Brett Lawrie. Keep your cool, Felix. I know it’s hard staring in the face of Lawrie. He is quite attractive. But if you could just hold on, all the rest of the Blue Jay players are ugly…

One out! Good job. It’s okay, Brett Lawrie. A trip to Raleigh would be worth the hassle…

That was the lamest not-bunt I have ever seen, Davis.

Oh good. Another Beckett closeup. By the way, we have talked about the 0 and 3 record 11 times now.

They just said Beckett got “torched.” Yep. But that was days ago. Literally days.

Doubront knocks another one out.

See? He’s not so bad. I mean… two runs? Wouldn’t be so horrid if… you know… we could hit something…

I am okay with you, Doubront. Right now. At this moment.

Arencibia is at bat and I think I ate too much pie.

Andy Pettitte is pitching in Florida tonight. Has anyone seen how that’s been going? I kind of hope it goes well so we can destroy him later this season.

Dice-K is throwing in Florida too!

And… of course. As always happens, when I praise a pitcher, he WALKS someone.

Really, Felix??? REALLY? Oh. And it’s Rasmus. He looks like he lives under a bridge. A bridge near a river. With frogs or something.

And not a nice bridge. Or a nice river. Like, a crappy bridge. And a crappy river.

He is NOT Uselesssss. I will not have you talk that way, FDA. I will not. I would NEVER talk smack about Derek Lowe.

Rasmus… He looks confused. He didn’t earlier when he got that fricking triple, so don’t fall for it, Doubront. I think he just naturally looks stupefied.

Yeah. I guess it would be silly if we gave our kids the same name, FDA.

Oh no. They just asked Ortiz about chickengate. Because we haven’t heard that enough.

Ortiz:

“Yeah, there were some guys having it (chicken) during the game yes but those guys, they wasn’t even in the  game. I’m not saying that what they were doing was the right thing to do, but what I am saying is it wasn’t affecting us on the field.”

He says he doesn’t eat fried chicken re cholesterol- and has lost 20 lbs… Oh. And he’s out. I think the announcers are in love with papi. They keep talking about how good he looks. It’s weird.

Cody Ross, scowling away again.

Base hit down the middle! Now maybe he has something to smile about. Cody, you have such a nice smile. USE IT.

Ryan Sweeney. Hello, boyfriend.

Hi, Steven. You should NEVER go to class when there’s a sox game.

A double! Back to back hits. Love this.

See what happens when you start watching, Steven? Never leave us for class again.

Two outs. Okay. It is fine. Okay.

I still love you, Salty.

Crap. I take back my love for all of you except Ross, Sweeney and Ortiz.

Bostonians also make good creme pie.

FDA, Kevin Youkilis is perfect too. Clearly there is an epic wind in Toronto.

Steven, I have thought about this (For like ten minutes) and I think Aviles is a double agent.

Escoblablah is batting. Doubront is going to take him out. Doubront will take them ALL out. You’ll see. It’s the top of the fifth and I STILL have faith in you, Felix. So does FDA. And Jeb. And Steven. And Paul. And the bazillion trollers my stats indicate I have. We ALL have faith in you. Quick! Somebody flap their arms like that Gordon Levitt kid in Angels in the outfield!

Christopher Lloyd IS watching you. Christopher Lloyd is watching us all.

OUT. See? I told you it would work. I am often right.

Oh.

A single.

Oh.

It’s okay. It’s just a single. It’s okay. I mean, it kind of looks like we could have nabbed that. Oh, Doubront just swiped the dirt in dismay. See, I like that. That’s acknowledgment. Pay attention, Beckett. It would make me glare at you less. Oh, Bautista. I can tell, because the annoying towels are back. A rip strike. It looks painful. Maybe he will be in pain. I didn’t mean that…

One out, fifth inning. It is 9:09. I want a salad. I have nothing in my fridge but an empty pie tin.

You know, the blue jay with the maple leaf? It kind of looks like a horrible wound on the bird’s head. Look at that.

Jose is not nearly as much fun to watch as Brett Lawrie.

That looked like a strike to me. Marlon Hudson is making some fudgy calls, if you ask me.

Youkilis catches and kills Bautista. Yay.

I love, by the way, how Salty talked Doubront off the metaphorical ledge just then. That was very Tekky. Sigh. I miss Tek. I’m okay.

I’m expecting my “never forget” bracelet any day now.

Focus, Doubront. It would be nice if you would just retire this guy so we won’t have to look at the blue jays for awhile.

FOCUS. Yes. That is called Focus. Encarnacionicusocus just had a killer strike. Ew. He is a spitter. Ew.

Don’t you know you are on television, Encarnaciocockus? Your mother is watching and she does not want to see you spit. STRIKE THREE. Out. And the inning is ova….

9:16. Those braves are so sweet, thinking of us like that, FDA. We should play hopscotch with them or braid their hair or something.

I miss Jason Bay. His alien face always made me smile.

I like Felix too. I just wish I could like our hitters…

All we have to do is hit THREE TIMES.

That’s it, really. No pressure, JACOBY, but you have done nothing for me. And Alvarez catches your bounce. And you sit down.

NOTHING.

Seriously, kids, let’s analyze this Jacoby situation. Did we drain him last year when he was the only one playing? Is that what is going to happen to Papi now that HE is the only one playing?

Yikes.

Pedroia is at bat and the announcers clearly have a crush on him too. If Dustin and Papi stood next to eachother, I think these announcers would pass out.

Seriously. This is weird. They didn’t even talk up Bautista this much.

HOME RUN.

And THAT is why the world loves you. And these announcers, apparently. Wow, announcers. Really?

I mean… I love him too… but… aren’t you supposed to root for Canada? Pedroia, I am promoting you to PRESIDENT of the those-who-give-a-frick club. PRESIDENT. I wish you were here so I could hug you. Even though, Ellie’s about your size…

DAMNIT, Gonz. The slow jog is back.

You are OUT of the club.

Hi, Youkie. Maybe you SHOULD eat chicken. Maybe that 20lbs you lost is the reason you just popped out…

2-1. I mean, Dustin, you could have done that when people were on the bases. But thank you. Thank you for not making us look ridiculous in Canada. America thanks you. And the announcers want… well… you.

IT IS NOT KEVIN YOUKILIS’ FAULT! IT IS THE WIND!

We are in the 6th and Bobby V has put Atchison in. I am actually really excited about this. Not you, Scott, stop smiling inside. I am just excited that, FOR ONCE, you broke your pattern of leaving pitchers in forever until they break and melt into a pile of strikeless goo. Thanks.

Come on, Atchison. Prove that you are not a failure. And by you, I mean the ENTIRE BULLPEN.

Honestly, Doubront was KIND of okay. I mean, you did leave in Beckett FOREVER the other day. Your brain is interesting, Bobby V.

Two balls, two strikes. Oh. Three balls. Two strikes. Oh.

Martin Short is here! Martin Short is here!!!! Who cares about those other two “celebrities?” MARTIN SHORT!

Can he hit?

Okay. Um. We are interviewing people from “Canada’s Got Talent” and not watching the game… um. And not talking to Martin Short. Seriously. If you are going to ignore the game, ignore it for MARTIN SHORT. Not hair chick.

Oh. Martin Short is talking about “Canada’s Got Talent” too. Okay. You can stop talking now.

I don’t even watch “America’s Got Talent.”

Now they are talking about belching instead of watching baseball.

There was a third out. A THIRD OUT? I missed like, ALL of those outs because of a cheap interview promoting “Canada’s Got Talent” where Martin Short wasn’t asked to do ANY impressions or anything. I feel cheated.

Papelpoo is dead to me. DEAD TO ME.

Sigh. I miss the Papeljig.

No I don’t. Yes I do. No I don’t.

We should teach Ryan Sweeney to jig…

Do you think we could buy Brett Lawrie? Just wondering. No reason. No reason at all…

Darren Oliver could be your dad, Alvarez.

Ortiz is 3 for 13 against this guy. Come on, Papi. We need you to get on base. Or better, really. Because the A-Gonz’ slow jog is back. And because Kevin Youkilis is broken. And because we need justice and harmony in this world.

Cody Ross. Apparently, his single did NOT make him happy. I am concerned. I do NOT remember Cody being this stodgy. Do you guys? He was … fun. Would this happen to Brett Lawrie? Would we break him? Because I don’t want that to happen to you, Brett. Stay free… free like that lion on “Born Free.”

What WAS that strike, Cody? Was that an IMPRESSION of a baseball player? Because you certainly weren’t even close. It’s like you were playing charades and the answer is “Julio Lugo.”

Hi, Ryan Sweeney. One on base. So if you could just hit a home run (no pressure), we would be winning. Because it is 2-1. There is one out. So. Um. No pressure…

Seriously? REALLY? David Ortiz????? You don’t steal!!!!!!

THAT is why! You lost twenty pounds. You didn’t gain wheels!

So. Ortiz got caught stealing.

So. Um.

So much for my “all it takes is one hit” strategy, Ryan.

Papi, you need to sit down and THINK about what you just did.

Seriously. WHY?

9:40 p.m. Damn it. really? We can’t hit DARREN OLIVER?

I think Dustin is a good leadoff candidate. Because Jacoby is BROKEN.

SIGH.

It’s okay. It’s OKAY. We need TWO fricking runs. TWO fricking runs. We will find them. SOMEWHERE.

And the first batter is out. That was actually kind of nice. Thanks to PEDROIA. Guys, pay attention. There’s no reason you can’t ALL be Pedroias. We could have a giant team of Pedroia’s. Well, it wouldn’t be giant…

Ellsbury makes an easy catch for out number two.

Atchison is kind of looking like a badass. Thanks for refraining from the chicken.

Oh! They just said 0 and 3 again! That’s 17 times, I think. Oh! 18. 19. Oh! And again! 20.

Last year it was 0 and 6. They’ve said that at least seven times…

That’s for reminding us, announcers. Soooo helpful. I guess it’s either make fun of us or make out with Dustin Pedroia.

Escobaby gets a single. Youkie, that was NOT your fault. Gonz, see how Escoblob actually RUNS? If that had been you, it would have been out number three. You know it. I know it.

Yes. This game SCREAMS Taylor Swift song, FDA. Let me know your selection, and I will put up the video so we can all listen and bemoan our fates together.

Oh! An out!

I think we’re going to be okay, actually. I feel good. I feel good about this game. We just need TWO fricking runs, after all…

Maybe we don’t need Taylor. Yet.

Paul- Atchison for PRESIDENT! I think he can last longer than a closer. Let’s make him bullpen president.

Salty. Hi. It is 9:50. Could you get a home run, please? I am very sleepy.

Hahahaha. Oh, Lawrie. You are even sexy when you super-fail at catching. He really smacked into that camera. I hope it got a good shot of his bicep.

ACK! They just tried to assassinate Saltalamacchia! ACK!

That was so on purpose. I officially hate this guy.

It’s okay, Salty. THAT strike out was not your fault. It’s because he tried to KILL you.

Let’s kill him with our glares, shall we?

I am glad you are still alive, Salty.

Oh. Aviles.

Oh.

Mike Aviles. Out at first. Yep.

Fricktastic.

WHO is Taylor Swift? Oh, Paul. You should be so glad I am in your life. Click here. And here. You are welcome.

I like this inning. I do. TWO outs. Eighth inning. Okay. All we need is ONE run in the 9th to keep this going. Just ONE. And we’ll be safe… and sound… like… oh, I don’t know…

Three outs!

10 p.m. Okay. All eyes on the screen. NOW. This is serious. It is even MORE serious than Taylor Swift.

DUSTIN PEDROIA IS SERIOUS>

Double.

DOUBLE!

DOUBLE.

SEE?! See? Dare we dream? Dare we hope?

It hurts so much more when we get like this… hoping…

DUSTIN PEDROIA I HAVE NO WORDS SO I SHALL USE CAPITAL LETTERS AND-

Oh no. Adrian Gonzalez.

Okay, A-Gonz. You need to run. No. Look at me. LOOK AT ME. RUN. Run like Bobby Valentine is chasing you. Run like I AM CHASING YOU. In a go cart or something so that my speed is more intimidating. You have to do this. You HAVE to do this. For freedom. And mankind. And AMERICA. AND MY SELF ESTEEM.

Oh! Oh! Oh! Pedroia steals third. Oh! Oh! Oh!

I just fell off my bed.

Oh. Okay. Come on, Gonzalez. R-U-N.

But, you know, hit first.

Full count.

And that foul fricking me the fudge out. Frick.

Look what you did. You scared my puppy! She just left the room.

Fuddgggeeeeee

Another foul. And a commercial? A COMMERCIAL?

Yeah, that’s right. Bring it back. Ohholyfrickmotheroffrick…

PEDROIA SCORES!

PEDROIA SCORES!

Bobby V gives him an ass smack and says, “do it pedey!”

Suddenly, Bobby V doesn’t look so bad and I-

Holy frick-We are. We are going to win. We’re going to  win.

It is tied. We have one out. And Kevin Youkilis is batting.

Holy fricktasticals.

Youkilis strikes out.

Um… It is 10:09 and I can’t sit still.

David Ortiz at the bat.

This is how it should be, really.

Bobby V, could you please leave in Atchison? Thanks.

It’s okay, FDA. I handled it. Just now.

Um… Aceves… um…

Uhoh.

Ortiz… Hi.

Ortiz is my baby’s daddy. True story. Just ask Elliot-May-Precious Ortiz.

Of course, his baby is hiding from me because I keep throwing socks.

Walk. He is ON BASE.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

Let’s just all walk. I’d be okay with that. Let’s ALLLL walk.

We’re going to give Youk a cat scan. And then, if there’s nothing wrong, we’re going to feed him cans of Ensure until he gets his ass kicking weight back on, that’s what we’re going to do, Paul.

Cody Ross, stop frowning and play BASEBALL.

It’s this GAME that you get paid to play.

If I got paid to play a game, I would turn MY frown upside down, best believe.

10:13, And my last fingernail is gone.

We have two people on base. Two. And McDonald is going to run for Ortiz. So that’s goooood.

Ohholyfrickles.

Hi, Ryan Sweeney. Ryan Sweeney will save us.

He kind of reminds me of Jason Bay. Anyone else see it?

BASE HIT!

MCDONALD Slides in… SLIDES in… drama… awesomeness. We will win. WE WILL WIN. And that ball hopped and we scored and there was no tag and…

Remember to breathe, Lauren…

OHHOLYFRICK.

Salty.

And … and…

It’s beautiful. And Santos cursed. And it was beautiful too.

Isn’t it nice to see another bullpen implode?

It is 3-2. 3-2, BOSTON.

Did you see that, John Farrell? Were you watching? Because we can replay it. We can replay it.

And the ball runs away and Ross comes in!!! And it is 4-2!

And I LOVE baseball.

And I love YOU, Santos. I can’t believe that mean John Farrell is bringing you in…

Hear those boos?

Hahahahahahaha. I wish I had a towel too be obnoxious with. Who am I kidding? I am at my house. I have LOTS of towels.

10:22. Actually, Salty’s not so bad. I really think this is going to be his year, Paul. You’ll see. Mark my words…

10:25. BOTTOM of the 9th. OHMYGOD MY COMPUTER FRICKING FROZE.

Okay. Whew. It’s better. Hi, Alfredo. If you screw it up, I fear for your life.

One out. This is STRESSFUL. You know. Unless you’re my dog.

Aceves, I have ALWAYS loved you. I don’t think ANY of this is your fault. I blame Bobby V for putting you in this situation.

That disclaimer aside, I’m going to need another out in order to justify your existance on this earth, okay?

Holyfrickingfrick.

Did we… um… We… won. We WON. WE won.

Um…

Was it just me… or was that anticlimactic?

I mean, with the previous pedey lovefest, I was expecting like… confetti?

I think confetti would have been fair… um…

SCREW IT! We WONNNNNNNNN.

You’re welcome, Red Sox. On behalf of myself and all my commenters, who, undoubtedly, pushed you to victory, you are welcome.

Hah.

I am …

Happy.

~L

Sh&@ gets real- Live DRUNKEN blogging returns at 4 p.m.

April 7, 2012 67 comments

Sh$#& is about to get real, Soxies.

That’s right. The return of drunken TooSoxy- and this year, there’s a VIDEO twist.

You think I slammed them down LAST year.

You think that river of September tears was all that was in me.

I CAN CRY THE RIVER NILE, MY FRIENDS.

Expect all the blood, sweat, tears and napkin dispenser throwing you’ve come to expect from TooSoxy over the years- except with an HD conclusion.

Join me at 4 p.m. and check back later tonight or tomorrow for the FIRST TooSoxy Video Blog of Victory.

Don’t make me drink alone…

THREE HOURS AND 20 MINS, CHILDREN.

—-

1p.m. See how easy it is to change a K for Kansas into a K for BECKETT! Here’s hoping I can justify a few more K’s…

Artsy girls are hot. True story.

THREE HOURS!!!!

—-

At my undisclosed, barrific location in Cary. Have forced bartender at ketchup bottle point to vow to keep sox game on. 3:40pm.

3:50. Uh oh. My bartender is a smiler. Uh oh. I shall call him Chippy.

Btw. This blog is brought to you by iPhone. So, if formatting is weird, suck it up because we have more important things to worry about. Um. Some guy just asked me if I am on four square. Um. I am on a barstool? Um.

This is swell. Not a verlafreak in sight!

20120407-155232.jpg

Ohmygod, chippy needs more customers. He will not stop smiling. Depending on how this game goes… That could get… Old.

They are having difficulty finding fox on I was almost sad. But chippy is all over it. So my drama is reserved for josh. They keep showing clips of papelpoo. I am nervous. What IS four square? Should I be on four square? Guy won’t leave me alone.
They do not have napkin dispensers here. Clever.
Oh! This is the first intro I have seen in 2012 and it is weird with bobby v. And what is that? Why does “the prince” get his own clip? And why is fat tire four dollars? These questions shall plague my dreams. Why yes, four square guy! I would love a shot! What is Tuaca? I don’t know if I like Tuaca…. I shall dub four square guy Poopsy. And we shall be friends. I shall pretend to be interested in your boring golf game. You know. During commercials. Chippy! Keep them coming.

4:05. No. I do not like Tuaca.

4:06. There is no sound in this bar.

Apparently, golf is a big deal.

Hi, jacoby.
Fister is a name that lends itself to some swell puns. Leave your fav fister pun in the comments- best one nets a video blog shout out.

It is okay, jacoby. Well, you know. Not really, but I don’t know anyone here and am trying to behave. While I try to behave, why don’t you try to play baseball?

Hi, Dustin. Oh.
Hi, a-Gonz. I hope you learned to run during your spring training. You know. And hit. Let me clarify- and basehit.
Hi, josh. Pay attention. It looks like none of our hitters feel like playing.
Gonz, please do not- do that. Whatever. I am fine. I have beer. And Tuaca.

It is 4:11. A hot guy just sat down. Please do not be a verlafreak! Oh my fisk, two hot guys. I am surrounded by hotness. Raleigh is swell.

Of course, I cannot appreciate them right now. Josh needs me, see. Go away, poopsie. I have real prey now.

4:15. Clearly, when I hit on hot collared shirt boys, josh loses focus. For the good of the nation, I need to hold it in. Sorry, guys. That was my bad.

Josh, I forgot how all your games take seven hours.

Out. Lovely. It is 4:18 and I am already belligerent.

4:21. 2-0, defrickingtroit. I blame the Tuaca. Josh. I do not know why you are acting out. But this temper tantrum is making me think about… Damn.

I still do not think price is worth a billion dollars.

You know. Tuaca is not that bad.

Hi, papi. 4:26. I knew you would save us. With wake gone, he is like oldie mcolderson, and he is still the only one playing fricking baseball. Silence! My husband is batting. We are going to name our kids after islands. I have decided. Do this for future little Islamorada!

Did you see prince try to molest papi just then? That happened.

Damnit. Who broke youkiepoo? Seriously. We shall talk about it in marriage counseling.

I love this Ryan Sweeney guy. Partially because he and papi are the only members of the we-give-a-frick alliance.

See? Kid knows how to get on base. I am sure your name will come up in therapy.
Cody, I want to like you because you have a nice smile, but what you just did is unlikeable. Tuaca? Yes, please.

Wow. I just checked stats, and there is a crazy amount of people watching and not commenting. That sure is creepy…

4:36- peralta, I do not like you.

I think I alienated hot guy. But peralta is out, so there is a balance in the world.

Out.
Beckett, I love you, but you kill me inside, sometimes.

20120407-164036.jpg

Now if you could win, I chalk this day into the yay category…

I knew salty was going to do that. I am psychic. And the those-who-give-a-frick club gains a member…

Not that it matters, because we are out again, but I am glad the those-who-give-a-frick club is still around. I worried when its only member, jacoby, quit Thursday.
4:47.

Bobby v, I do not know what you are saying, but I hope it is an apology.

Hi, josh. Bottom of third.

Andrew, I am very insightful. And I can multitask. I do not know if josh Beckett can…

It takes josh beckett a thousand minutes to throw a pitch. And I would be okay with that if the score was cleaner.
Pop out. Lovely. You do listen.

FDA- the bruins need you less than josh Beckett, clearly.
And do not tell josh Beckett he sucks. He is very vulnerable and- and THAT is why we are losing. Because of your attitude, FDA! Quick! Clap your hands like in Peter pan!
Hi, Bruce.

FDA, I told the boy that Avril makes me think of the red sox. He does not get me.
Speaking if not getting me… Hi, Gonz.
Holy crap. You did something. You… Ran. You…
Wow. You … Joined the club…

Maybe he was running FROM something. Did anyone see a bee?

5:02. Kevin Youkilis and I have been fighting a lot. Not to name any names (JULIE), but I am sure he is distracted.

He never did this before Julie. Just saying…

Hi, Ryan Sweeney.

They flashed to a home run in the giants’ game, and for a brief, shining moment, I thought it was ours…
Hi, Ryan. Can I call you Ry?
Wow. Apparently not.

5:06 Commenter Andrew JUST called me shallow. Apparently, A just started paying attention…

Kevin Youkilis is having problems. But problems can be solved, see . Remember when Papi was slumpy?

FDA, it is not my fault you are not at a bar with multiple tvs.

And the red sox are worse at scoring than the bruins and neeeeeed you.

I love Ryan Sweeney. We would have pretty children and they would alllll get on base.

Flying out is not an expression of love, Ryan Sweeney.

5:15. What a stupid game. What a stupid prince fielder. What the frick are you looking at, chippy?

3-0, 4th. At least bobby v is carrying on the great sox tradition of keeping destructive pitchers in forever.

5-0. Alex fricking Avila. This is like eating rocks.

Well. There went my last fingernail. I shall add it to your tab, bobby v.

Shhh! FDA! He will hear you and find a way to suck MORE.

Maybe we should star Daniel bard. What the frick ever. Maybe we could let Ryan Sweeney pitch? Why the frick not. Hey, tek, you found another job yet? How is your pitching arm? Do you think if we got Timlin to call Pedro? Hell, teach me the knuckleball. At least I will look contrite when I suck, BECKETT.

That is okay, FDA. You can read the suckage on here and I can filter it for you.

TooSoxy- wades through the poo so you don’t have too! Catchy new motto?

5:26. Tuaca and I just had a conversation, and I sure feel better. Salty is batting. I hope there are enough innings left for him and Sweeney and ortiz to score six runs…

It is not fair. It is like Detroit against like, three people.
Maybe we should hold open tryouts on the streets if Boston? If it works out, it will sure be a swell movie. I would cast Kenneth Branagh because everything is better with Kenneth Branagh. You know, like cheese.

5:34. Bottom of five. There is a girl wearing rabbit ears. Is there a rabbit holiday I do not know about?

Oh. Easter. Right. Thanks, chippy.
I don’t think Jesus would approve of that skirt…
There are a lot of hockey people here, and not Boston fans.
This game hurts. I feel like I am using sandpaper as a throat lozenge.

5:39. Why???
Let me clarify. Why is josh still on the mound? Why? Double. And then peralta. Who I do not like. Josh, apparently, is a fan… It is 6-0. And I do not want to talk about it.

Fricktastic. Another home run. 7-0. And don’t you worry. Bobby v is totally content to keep josh on the mound.

There is clearly something wrong. Josh is now just rolling balls toward the fence. Bottom of five, and we cab’t even catch balks at first.
Oh. NOW bobby wants to talk.
NOW he does.
Pitcher switch.

5:46. I figure out why all the canes fans are here. It is like cane night or something and the Carolina hurricanes’ mascot will be here in a few. Maybe the giant muppet can communicate with bobby v.

Bright side. Bright side. Um…

Oh! Here’s one! At least john lackey isn’t… Um…
At least the game is on silent.

Andrew- at least we have had four players hit the ball. I cannot say anything good about April pitching…

5:50. Seriously. What the fudge is wrong with jacoby?! Who fed him chicken? Was it you, josh?

Pedroia! What did you just do to yourself? Oh, the drama. I was a lot happier last week.

I cannot be around canes fans. I went to a game this week! What more do you want, north Carolina?

And chippy keeps grinning. Would I get kicked out if I threw my salad?

5:55. Gonz. I mean, it is not going to make a difference . We are down by seven. Futility is usually where you thrive…
See? I am glad you learned to run… Um.. Jog in a breathy way.
Not that it mattered… Papi out. Sigh.

I think the guy next to me oiled his tattoo. It is icky. But less icky than this game.

The canes cheerleaders are here. I feel crowded. Shouldn’t they be, like, with the tricking canes?
Andy dirks just had a pretty strike against .. Oh. And a hit. Of course. D’accord.
Yes. Please. Load the bases. Why not? Is it just this tv, or has bobby v been experimenting with spray tan? Perhaps your time would be better served in the practice field.
8-0, for those of you not already vomiting.

Atchison, it is nice that you want to emulate Beckett, but can you emulate him from a few years ago? Thanks.

They are passing our canes shirts to everyone but me and it is infuriating. Maybe I want a canes shirt.
I DO want a canes shirt.

I could very much use something soft to throw at the tv…
Maybe I will wrap a ketchup bottle in it and throw it a a canes fan.

Seriously- what is wrong with youkie (who iPhone spell check wants to call Toulouse)? Guess in the comments because I am concerned and out of ideas.

And Sweeney makes first because he CARES about his job.

6:11. I want to like you, Cody. But I do not have a lot of love in my heart today.

And Cody hurls a bat at the mound. Not a ball. A bat. At least something is leaving home plate…

It will be fine. Salty is here, and he us wearing his curly miracle hair. It is the top of the 7, when miracles can happen.

Maybe wake could come back?

Okay, salt.

That is not okay, salt. I sure have had a lot of Tuaca.

6:17. Cabrera’s face bruise is the best part of this inning.

Is it just me, or does youk look skinnier? That’s the problem…

I hate your sunglasses, prince fielder. And your eyes are closed in your photo. You would think that, with a billion dollars, you could afford a better picture.
Bottom of the seventh. Michael ilitch looks like a labyrinth troll. Jim Henson definitely digs your face.

Albers just tried to kill prince fielder.

I mean… At least he is being proactive…. Demon just knocked one and now there are two verlafreaks on base. Oh good. Make that three. Savor this 8-0 score, guys.
Oh. Would have been a double play. But. You know. Wasn’t. Because my husband is broken. I blame Tom Brady for having sisters. 9-0.

6:27. But time does not matter now. We are beyond such trivial constraints amid the magnitude of failure. We are bringing out Thomas. Why not? Verlafreaks on first and third. Two outs. Perfect opportunity for a massive wave if vomitsuck.

See? A tide of vomitsuck. 10-0. Oh look. A shithawk. Not used to seeing them this far out at sea.

FDA. You are lucky that you have a remote. And Chinese food.

I hope they do not feed josh Beckett. He has not earned his pellets today.

Why us this happening to us, FDA?

There is a tide in the affairs of men….

It is 6:33. And this Chevy commercial is better than this game.

6:36. We can totally do this! We just need to believe!

6:38. Well. That shot wore off quickly.

6:37. You know what? This isn’t happening. It is just a mistake. And one game. And so not a big deal.

6:39. DAMNIT, Beckett! What the frick?! I will never trust you again you fudging-

6:40- pedroia! On a base! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Gonz, if you could just get us on the board, I will have your children. Right here. In the bar.

6:44. I want to cry.

Oh. McDonald. Sure. Why not? Hi, Bowden.

6:48. Whatever. We are going to lose.

6:50. ………………

6:52. Chippy just told me to turn my frown upside down, guys.

…….

Shoppach.
Blah.

…Shoppach is on a base….

One out for eleven runs. Sure. Sweeney is on it…

And Sweeney is on a base because Sweeney wants to win. What about you, Cody? Do you want to win?

10-0. Final. Bah.

It is 11:30. I have had time to reflect. And I feel better. I do. I have decided to concentrate on Ryan Sweeney, David Ortiz, Jarrod Saltalamacchia and (god help me) Adrian Gonzalez.

And ignore (for today) everyone else. Especially you, Josh Beckett. I am ignoring you the most.

Video up tomorrow! Stay tuned.

~L

Categories: Drunken Live Blogging

My heart WILL go on. And on. And on. Sigh. My mover looks like A-Gonz. Live Blogging my personal hell…

February 10, 2012 6 comments

You get two posts today, chicas! Maybe three. Or FOUR. or FIVE. Who knows? Because I’m trying to focus on something that’s not the cry of pain from an elderly (yes elderly) mover as he heaves a sleeper sofa down a mountain path… and because I can’t listen to Celine Dion anymore. I can’t. DAMN IT, JULIE BRADY!!! In fact, maybe I’ll just LIVE BLOG my moving experience. Maybe I’ll do that. It is 9:11.

—-

9:14. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m beautiful. And intelligent. And my personality sparkles. And anyone (bearded and awesome or otherwise) would be LUCKY to have me. I AM A TREAT, DAMNIT. A TREAT.

That’s right, Celine. My heart WILL go on. Near, far. Near, far, Youkie.

I’m okay.

—-

9:16. You know what I love? When Sox editorials irritate someone other than me. Here’s a great example by our friends at Over The Monster- a blog discussing how irritating Jon Heyman is.

Quick tip: anytime a sportswriter tells you that the inner workings of a front office are “obvious” without a quote (even an anonymous one), he is full of it. Actually, Heyman never quotes anyone in the entire article, which should tell you something about how well-sourced and researched his column is. In addition, anyone claiming that the Red Sox are cheaping out in their competition with the Rays, when their payroll is literally three times the Rays’… Just mind-blowing.

Brendan O’Toole, we should be friends.

WHY, YOUK? WHY?!

I’m okay.

Here’s a good article on why 2012 might be the year to be fiscally conservative, Sox, but it’s not interesting enough to hide that growl of agony from downstairs (I think my table just gave a mover a hernia. Hernias. YOUKILIS! I’m okay. I’m okay).

Perhaps most distracting of all is a Bleacher Report opinion that A-Gonz will be 2012 MVP. Really? He Who Walks To First? (Best Native American name EVER, right?)

Gonzalez will be the one to hit 15 home runs in September and will carry the team on his back for long stretches when other players can not get their jobs done.

Really? Because I recall lots of homeruns. When they a) Didn’t matter or b) Didn’t matter.

—-

I think I need sleep. Because my mover just looked like Gonzalez. That’s right. Shuffling down the stairs. I DIDN’T PAY YOU PEOPLE TO SHUFFLE (she said inside her head because she feared they would quit and force her to make strong friends).

9:21 a.m. You know. This is the longest I have EVER gone without coffee. Well. Um. In awhile.

—-

9:24 a.m. “Are you aware the shade on this lamp is bent?”

“Yes. I am a reporter. I don’t have nice things.”

“Oh.”

9:27. I am terrified of these movers. See, I kind of didn’t tell them about the long windy mountain path. Or the stairs. or the narrow doorway. Or the narrow stairs actually IN the apartment. Or that my sofas were sleepers. PLEASE don’t quit.

This move reminds me a lot of September. Except with less beer.

I think.

I mean, Chippy (I named mover four Chippy because he has a chip on his tooth) seems awful cheery…

—-

9:29. Uhoh. Now they’re coming up here. See, when I moved that dresser in… okay… when my ex moved that dresser in, he really had to work hard to get it over the narrow stairs.

Mover 2 coughs. He shall be called Coughy. I like him. He wears hats. You know who else wears hats? Kevin Youkilis. I’m okay. I’m okay.

“I need you to do what you can do. We’ve got tape on the truck,” Coughy says to One.

Nervous. This is so much worse than September. I don’t like it when people touch my things, Soxies. I don’t like it.

Ellie is locked in the bathroom. She’s not having fun either. I can hear her. Saddest puppy in ALL the land.

—-

It is 9:31. There is a strange noise coming from my bathroom. I think Ellie has learned to flush the toilet.

—-

9:32. Jet Blue just unveiled that Red Sox plane. Nifty.

9:35. I can blog, have a panic attack AND work at the same time. Just scored a super high profile interview that I can’t tell you about, but let’s say it’s a great way to say bye-bye western NC…

If my heart can take it. Who knows? I think I’m having palpitations. I bet that’s a lot like a heart hernia.

YOUKILIS.

I’m okay.

—-

9:36. I can’t believe you’re actually reading this. See, I have an excuse. I am having a full blown panic attack. Is your cubicle that boring?

I wish I had a cubicle. I would decorate it with my Disney Princess calendar and my Youk posters. Sigh.

—–

9:41. You know who is awesome? Haiku Greg. Haiku Greg is this guy who writes haikus out of baseball news. He wrote me one today.

Toosoxy surprised
to find that Youk’s engagement
did not include her.

You guys NEVER write me haikus.

9:44. You know. I was supposed to be at work like 44 minutes ago. Maybe I should… um… send an e-mail.

—-

I keep tiptoeing down the stairs to see what’s happening. I feel like a kid sneaking peeks at Christmas presents. Except instead of giving me things, they are taking them away. Coughy smells like cigarettes and he is touching my bookshelf. I am going to be shocked, honestly shocked if he can get that dresser down THOSE narrow stairs.

I wish I had coffee.

This is kind of as much fun as watching baseball. When he’s not groaning in agony. It’s definitely a team sport. There’s a pitcher. A catcher. A couple random guys. A dog barking in the bathroom…

—-

9:48 If I enjoy 60-somethings men popping spinal discs, does that make me a bad person?

I’ll morally work that out for a moment and get back to you.

I’ve kind of missed live blogging. It’s a lot like radio, really. You feel like you’re talking to a lot of people. But you’re not. You’re soooooo not. Now he’s on the box springs. I heard a huffing noise. Hmmm.

I’m not sure if that was my dog or my mover.

I think this is a little morbid, don’t you?

—-

9:53. This is really the most nerve-wracking thing in the world. Really. I mean, noises. Dog barking. Thuddings. No wonder I’m having a panic attack. I kind of feel like I’m hovering over myself. That was a metal sound. That didn’t sound good.

Would it be tacky for me to just leave and get coffee?

Yes, Lauren. Then they could steal your lamps. Everyone wants to steal your lamps. Everyone.

You know this guy. Coughy. You know him. Where do you know him from, Lauren? Think!

—–

Now he’s figuring out how to get the bookshelf out the door. Isn’t this entertaining? You’re reading it, America. And, if statistics are correct, apparently quite a lot of you. Wow. I appear to be irrationally popular today. It’s the hernia references, isn’t it? YOUKILIS! I’m okay.

10 a.m. Is it really 10 a.m.? Have I really been up for like FIVE hours? Is Kevin Youkilis REALLY engaged to Tom Brady’s sister? Is Pluto REALLY not a planet? It’s okay. You can tell me.

I haven’t live blogged since the Bobby V presser. And before that… not since Sept 28… but none of us want to relive that.

It’s 10:05. I hear arguing outside. I bet they’re having coffee at the office. I bet they’re having coffee at the office right. now.

“My knees is burnin’,” Coughy said.

So are my ears.

I think this feeling is… guilt? Maybe? Is that what this is?

—-

10:13.

—-

10:17. How long is this supposed to take? I thought you were supposed to be able to just load these guys up and watch ‘em go?

—-

I think I broke mover one. 10:21. I mean, He got up. But his forehead doesn’t look so good.

Maybe I recognize Coughy from a mugshot. Excuse me sir, have you ever manufactured a schedule 4?

—-

Or maybe it’s a bar? I got to bars. I got to lots of bars. I KNOW I recognize Curly from a bar. Or something.

But you’re not interested in that.

Stupid Kevin Youkilis. You’re lighting up the Google Alerts now.

A new article out on Dice-K’s magical midseason return

Tony Massarotten has some opinions on Josh Beckett.

Josh Beckett is missing the point, though there is the possibility that he is simply trying to avoid it. This is not about chicken. This is not about beer. This is not even about on-field failure, because the Red Sox and their followers have endured a good deal of that before, too.

What this is about, quite simply, is the seeming absence of commitment from a man whom the Red Sox once regarded as a model of dedication.

Could we just FORGET about past transgressions and move on?

Like today. I’m forgetting that crack you made about my lamp, One, and feigning genuine concern over the dent in your forehead.

It’s exactly like that. 10:29. This is still happening. I still don’t have my coffee. And this is still fricking happening.

—-

10:37. Just had a phone interview with a relief worker in Japan. Not exactly a “can I call you back later?” situation. With thuds. And barks. And stress in the background…

I wish I could teleport to tomorrow.

10:41. I am SO late for work.

10:42- the Realization that I have SO MUCH refrigerated food. And nothing to eat it with. And no microwave.

OH NO.

In case you were wondering what my dog was doing in the bathroom-

She was chewing through her leash.

I have another leash.

It is in a moving truck on the way to Raleigh.

And I am late for work., And at least 20 minutes from a leash store.

I am trying to figure out what part of today doesn’t suck.

And when this panic attack will end.

Until we meet again…

L

Categories: Drunken Live Blogging

Bobby V. sure does smile a lot: Live (belated) coverage of the presser

December 1, 2011 10 comments

It’s official. Bobby V is here to stay. For at least two years… And MLB aired the presser live on-line. And you know I can’t resist live ANYTHING. And I don’t really know this guy. Sure. I know the mustache. The obnoxious commentary. The thing he said about Beckett that one time. And his passion for sandwich invention- but I don’t really know the real YOU, Bobby V. Here’s to hoping I will in the next twenty minutes-

So, I just got off work. So I miss… oh… most everything. Tune in on the live presser at 5:45.

How do you think you have evolved, they’re asking Bobby V…

“Again, I wish I could say I had this check list of improvements that I made or things that I’ll never do again (LIKE HIDE OUT IN A GROUCHO MARX DISGUISE?), but I’ve never written them down.”

Now he’s talking about lost in translation, speaking to players in Japan, and how it’s prepared him to be… um… repetitive?.

“I have to inspect to see that they really got what I meant.”

Okay.

“Make sure the message is received.”

Okay.

Describe your sabermetrics philosophy and collaboration…

“I think it’s the most exciting growth period that I’ll ever be in to be able to experience new information in advanced metrics…”

This sounds like that that thing non-computer people say when interviewing for computer jobs alongside the whippersnappers.

The jersey suits him. Doesn’t the jersey suit him? You look good in red, Bobby V. Gosh, I want to like you. You’re just so cheery. Do you need a granddaughter? I’d be a great granddaughter. I can knit.

“One of the exciting parts of this situation is I know information is available to me and that information has to get in and be digested with the other information I get from my ears and my eyes with my experience and hopefully It’s going to regurgitate results.”

That sounds gross.

Talking about reputations.

Word used to describe you polarizing- what do you think, Bobby V? WEII asks great questions.

“Polarizing is a tough one for, I mean I’ve had a lot of adjectives about me so I can’t describe them all (HAH) and I can’t defend them all but it’s about reputation versus character and I think people who know me and take the time to know me understand that I have some qualities in my character that are okay. I’m not the genius that people refer to me as… I’m not the monster that breathes fire the some people refer to me as … but I’m a guy I’m a regular human being with regular attributes that make me who I am… and I think some of them are… okay.”

Do you think you’re going to have to manager your personality differently? Good question, WEII

“The players in Boston…”

He used quote fingers..

“The front office”

He used quote fingers.

I kind of like this guy.

“If I have to manage up differently or manage down differently… I’m going to work my butt off to do it… I don’t think there’s one thing I’m going to do the same or differently… this is a challenge in getting to know Dustin Pedroia…”

he mentions Carl Crawford. Adrian Gonzalez.

He doesn’t mention David Ortiz, I see.

“They’re not part of MY team (I like the man’s quote fingers. Yes I do), I’m going to be part of Ben’s group… or Dustin’s group… to work with them or for them and that’s a challenge and this isn’t easy stuff…”

I LIKE this guy.

“All due respect to New York, but I can’t imagine there’s a tougher place to be good at what I’m trying to do.”

Um.

Now he’s complimenting Tito. YES.

Oh, Heidi Watney has a question. Are you supposed to be in LA, abandoner?

What is your first order of business?

“After this press conference?”

Um yeah.

“To make a schedule… of how to talk to and meet with players on this team.”

I do. I actually like Bobby V. Who knew? He’s good at this. This whole press thing.

ESPN asks how difficult was it to leave ESPN… hah.

And what, at 61, motivates you?

Okay.

“Real tough to leave ESPN and that might sound sarcastic but I think that if you were going ot poll the other 29 major league managers and ask if they’d rather me managing… I’ll guarantee you more than half of them would pick the ESPN job…”

Was that for Tito’s benefit?

“What motivates me? The desire to be excellent.”

I’m glad it’s not the mustache. Doesn’t he need a hat? Maybe it’s the hair. Is that why they didn’t give him a hat? He needs a hat, Ben.

“I just want to do something good.”

You could serve soup at a soup kitchen. But this is good, too.

More ESPN.

This one’s for Ben Cherington.

Why wasn’t he on the original candidate list? GOOD QUESTION

“Because of the position he was in at ESPN… I guess knowing a little bit about my own style that it was probably going to take even longer than I was hoping it would… (There’s a lot of rambling here) including him in that way at that point might be difficult… and then I got to know him better… and that’s when I started doing more work on it… we felt it made sense once we decided he was going to be include din the process it made sense to include him in a public formal kind of way…”

?????

Seriously, Benny? Bring notecards.

“There’s more than one personality that will work, whether it’s Boston or anywhere… I think you have to love the game, Bobby clearly does that. You have to have a passion for the game, a passion for excellence….”

Oh, Ben.

“There was no specific personality we set out to look for.”

This reminds me of that episode of ‘The Office’ where they have Steve Carrell talking about possible bankruptcy…

Oh, John and Larry for a photo opportunity.

So. That means it’s over.

My initial, random, unedited and bleary thoughts: I am actually shocked at how much I like this guy. Especially since I have written at least three blog posts about how he reminds me of a circus clown. But he’s affable. He’s charming. Who the hell knows if he can manage? But he’s officially ours now. So, I say, let’s give him a Beantown makeover- facial hair with a side of snark- and watch the guy get to work.

Do you think it’s because of my broadcast background? Maybe I’m biased. But I actually… like this guy.

Let’s let him work.

And then if he screws up… well…

It’s back to the clown jokes.

I MISS TITO.

~L

8:30 p.m.- Was only a matter of time before a reporter got to Papi…

David Ortiz reserved judgment when asked tonight what effect Bobby Valentine would have on the Red Sox.

“I don’t know,” the free agent designated hitter said. “We’ll see. . . . Hopefully I’ll get to find out.”

You know whose opinion we don’t give a frick about? Neither does the Globe, apparently:

“It’s going to be interesting, that’s for sure,” Johnny Damon said.

STOP TRYING TO BE RELEVANT!

PPS- This is what I want for Christmas. Can someone get on that? Thanks.

PPPS- Bill Buckner? Back in Boston? Oh, hilarious. Just got this memo at 9:35 p.m.

Last stand. Live blogging the stages of grief so you don’t have to live through them. Sox vs O’s, the game that counts.

September 28, 2011 42 comments

Last stand is a loose military term used to describe a body of troops holding a defensive position in the face of overwhelming odds. The defensive force usually takes very heavy casualties or is completely destroyed, as happened in “Custer’s Last Stand” at the Battle of Little Big Horn.[1]

That is from WIKIPEDIA.

“We’re either going to be good enough or we’re not…We can write this ending however we choose. We can be the team that got beat up, came back, put it together and went on this great run, or we can allow this to defeat us. Hopefully, we have enough to have it be the first. That’s obviously how we feel.”

That is from Terry Francona.

Okay. I mean, I’ve heard better peptalks, Tito.

Like:

And:

Oh, and this one:

But yours is fine too. Um.

So… less than two hours to go. AL Wildcard waiting.

I feel like a vodka tonic. Do you feel like a vodka tonic?

Please blog with me tonight, starting 7ish. None of us should be alone, Soxies. Not tonight. Not tonight.

4-3?????

I.. I…

I can’t talk about this.

~L

—–

6:20. ESPN says lots of things, FDA. BUT SO DO WE. <- did that look confident?

Andrew. Please don’t die or, um, something. New York can be a scary place in that Youk jersey…

—–

Hi, Kristen. You can cheer for the Red Sox if you want… I saw someone in an Angels shirt today and thought of you. Because it’s a rare sight in North Carolina.

—-

Ready. For. Battle.

6:50 p.m. On my way to the bar. Condiments, be afraid. Be VERY afraid.

—–

RAIN???

This game is maddening.

First. I call bar.

Bar says, we have internet AND Sox game.

See, I have work to do. Not just the blog. WORK.

Go to bar. It is on the fricking Braves game.

Jeb makes fun of me because of my teenage angstiness.

THREE people make fun of my Youk jersey.

It takes them NINETEEN minutes to turn the Sox game on.

There is NO internet.

And A FRICKING RAIN DELAY.

It is 10:01. I just got home. Because rain delays are not worth my time or money at bars.

FDA! You would have me date a Pirates fan?!

And I am not available.

I’ve been practicing that.

Funny story.

RIGHT, JEB?

You should not read news this week, FDA. You should not read news.

So. Now we’re just waiting on a rain delay…

If Ellie had her way, we'd just sleep. She doesn't understand how important this game is, see...

I keep reading this over and over, hoping, praying that they’re LYING.

Well… the Stanks are winning…

I REALLY can’t handle a game tomorrow. I need sleep. I need to go watch my old theatre director in “High Country Dancing With the Stars” (watching Gary do the mambo is kind of a goal of mine). Oh. AND I NEED SLEEP.

WHAT? WHAT are they doing, FDA?

The Yankees are not loading on my computer, sneaky devils.

Jeb and I met this Stanks fan at the bar. We talked because he is from Florida. Oh, and he was old and gimpy and endearing. Right. And he said he rooted for the Red Sox in 04 but that it was hard for him to root for them any other time. And I said that, since I was rooting for his team tonight, he should take the peace feather and climb aboard the Sox bandwagon.

He said okay.

It’s ’cause I’m pretty.

WHY IS IT RAINING, FDA???!!!! FIX IT.

YES. YOU CARE. Do not give up on me, FDA. DO NOT GIVE UP ON ME.

7-6???? Really????? How does that even happen????????

Did they really accomplish that in… like… an INNING?

ohmygod! So, I’m watching these two cats. And one cat is adorable and awesome. And one cat hates me and tries to kill me in my sleep. And devil cat just cuddled on my lap! For like a minute! And didn’t scratch me in the face! So I took a picture to prove it! Side bar, yes, but more cheerful than the game!

Look! No face scratching! Look! It's a game day miracle!

Okay. I am working on my articles. Hopefully, I will be awake when this game restartssssss….

JEB, don’t MAKE me give the Red Sox fans more make-fun-of-you fodder…

TIED? I got disgusted with 7-6 and turned it off.

TIED?

This is CHEAP.

What? What? Rain delay over? Aceves? Aceves! Hi! I sure am glad to see you…

HIT HIM? Damnit.

DAMNIT.

The goal is to NOT get the on base.

“How long can Franconca ride this horse?”

SHUTUP, ANNOUNCER.

Ow. 14th batter Aceves has hit this year. Well, he did play for the Yankees, and I imagine that takes a while for you to get over.

Bottom of the 9th, extra innings in Stank game, Atlanta’s tied too…

Blah.

Aceves used in four straight games.

OHNO.

Aceves?!

And he hit this guy in the neck. So he is going to load the bases with hit-by-pitch?

And now the ump is involved?

SERIOUSLY?

Curt Young, when are you going to go talk to YOUR PITCHER?

Yikes.

YIKES.

Bard AND Morales in bullpen.

YIKES.

Aceves, please work your stress out on a punching bag or something, not an Oreo.

That batter was scared. He did a little mini-dodge. Can’t say I blame you.

Aceves looks like he is trying to exterminate you all.

ONE out.

Seriously. WHY are you doing this, Oreos? You have nothing to gain by a win. NOTHING. Just spite. SPITE.

SPITE and CRUELTY.

Buck Showalter just rolled his eyes. BLAH.

Did you see the Oreo who threw his helmet when he was out at first earlier? That was hilarious.

Yikes. That just tried to kill Lavarnway. Right in the mask.

Ouch.

Okay, Aceves. You can hit him with a ball if you want to.

NO. I didn’t mean that. Please do not hit the bases loaded, Aceves.

And they are playing the Jaws theme. Which would work if your team was a FISH name. Baltimore, YOU MAKE NO SENSE.

Strike out to crowd adoration. Interesting how many Soxies are in your house, yes, Baltimore? I am trying to stay awake. But if I stop typing… it’s because I fell asleep on my keyboard again…

OUT. OhthankyouAlfredo.

This game is killing me.

—-

Damn.

Scutaro. Love.

Crawford. Ohno.

OUT? OUT?

SCUTARO?

SCUTARO?

I HATE this announcer.

I HATE this game.

I HATE mlb.

AND I HATE this game.

Aviles is out.

AND WE COMPLETELY- COMPLETELY- WASTE TIME I COULD HAVE SPENT SLEEPING.

I canNOT believe I have fought sleep for this.

Out one. Okay.

Out two. Okay.

Out three. OKAY.

9 Sooooo tired..

TIED GAME?????

Categories: Drunken Live Blogging

It’s NOT OVER. No. NO IT IS NOT. Live Blogging, Sox vs Stanks

September 25, 2011 55 comments

WHO’S WITH ME??????

6:49 p.m. Apparently not the Red Sox. Because they are down 3-0.

6:52. Two outs. This is stupid.

6:55 p.m. I could be watching “Babe, Pig in the City” right now.

6:57 p.m. To recap. It is the nightcap. John Lackey is pitching. And it is the bottom of the second. A horrible game. And Teix just got a hit. And Carl Crawford couldn’t find it. And then he just threw the ball randomly. And it rolled around a little. And now we’re looking at whether it was a foul or whatever. Of course they won’t rule it a foul. Of course. But now jackass is out at third anyway. The Sox think this will make me feel better. STOP PANDERING TO ME, RED SOX. I mean, the Stank got a single. Oh. And another single. So there’s TWO now on base. But, whatever. WHATEVER. The indifference is scathing. SCATHING. It’s like boiling tar indifference. Oh, look, Curt Young appears at the mound. Which is like the first time I’ve seen you, so I think this is the first time you ran out of whatever your equivalent of sunflower seeds is. It’s probably like, now and later or some kind of really sticky, tooth pulling candy. I bet you have a lot of cavities, CURT YOUNG. Whatever. WHATEVER. I mean, there’s only one out. And, oh look. Another hit. Pedroia catches. So. There’s two outs. I mean, it’s better than one out. I mean, Lackey can’t get an out. So any out is an out. OUT. Please? John Lackey. Lackey. Slackey. It is 7:02 and I have this weird mash up of gross indifference and numbing anger. So it’s like I’m … numb. It’s an interesting feeling, really, feeling the hope rush out of your veins. Tingly. I mean, I’ve felt it before (thanks, Red Sox). I just kind of… I don’t know… thought the numbness was over and that… Oh. A catch. Okay.

Annnnnd that’s over.

Whatever.

The commercials are more intriguing than this game.

And pop out. POP. OUT.

Marco Scutaro. Hi, Marco Scutaro. Hi.

You got a hit, Marco Scutaro. YOU know how to play. YOU watched the Goofy video.

YOU don’t hate me.

It’s nice to have SOMEONE I can trust.

Oh, Jason Varitek! I am so glad to see you. So glad. I mean, I knew you were catching. I knew that. But watching you bat, it’s like… like… I love you, Jason Varitek. Because you WANT to win. It’s you and me and Marco and Jacoby. It is only us now.

Oh. You’re out, Jason Varitek. YOu are out. And… Um…

Okay. I will… I will respect your… THAT’S CRAP, TEK.

Jacoby. Jacoby will save us. We don’t need you. We don’t need anyone. It’s Jacoby and me and Marco. We’re going to start a band. A BAND. It will be called the winners. You can start a band and you can call it the losers. Or the Lackeys. Which is a synonym for the Losers.

Our band is going to be so cool, Jacoby. Soooooo cool. Oh. You’re out. Oh.

It’s okay. You’re still in the band. I guess.

But Scut, don’t be getting any ideas.

—–

John Lackey clearly wants to be the band frontman since he is sucking.

I mean, there’s one out. But he still sucks.

You still suck, John Lackey.

You know, a surprising number of people find this website by googling “Lackey sucks.”

Mark Teixeira is evil. Does clumsy defeat evil? Nope. Not even whimsy. I saw that look, John. Yankees fans LOVE John Lackey.

The Angels gave us John Lackey. They’re smarter than they look, FDA.

Yes, FDA. You can feel free to send me new, exciting paintshop pictures. You’re very good, and my blog needs pictures. You should illustrate this. Inning by inning. I tried to. But I got mad.

It is 7:21 and Nick Swisher doesn’t respond to my psychic head implosion glare.

There is no point hating the Rays. No point. They are too irrelevant to hate.

The Orioles too.

I reserve hate for calculated enemies. The kind that can, you know, actually beat you and not just rely on your own mound imploding in a metaphorical volcano.

Their pitcher keeps touching his pants. It’s creeping me out.

We are NOT irrelevant. We are just uninspired. Sadly, we remain relevant.

Out. Oh, Pedy…

My friend Daniel just texted: “Doing anything tonight?”

I responded

“Eating ice cream with a fork, crying and watching the box score.”

Danny Ainge is not calculated. Because I have not heard of him.

I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate.

Lackey does NOT care. Lackey HATES us.

See? See how much Lackey hates us?!

So, here’s a question worthy of more thought than this game. I might cut my hair all off tomorrow. I mean, I know I have said that before. But I really might. Thoughts? Or maybe I’ll go back to being blonde. I don’t know. Oh, and the boy is coming tomorrow (theoretically). May I could chop my hair off and dye it blonde.

So, I turned the sound off on the game, and I’m listening to Fiona Apple on Spottify. It is improving my day.

Oh look. It is still 3-1. Oh look.

HOLD THE PHONE. IS THAT JD DREW?

HOLD THE PHONE.

WHAT?

DID I JUST START PAYING ATTENTION? AM I HALLUCINATING?

IS THAT REALLY YOU?

WHAT?

HOLD THE FRICKING PHONE.

Ohmygod JD Drew it is so good to see you. I am seeing you, right? It is him, right? RIGHT?

OHMYGODPLEASE.

It is! It is! it isssss!

Ohmygod. Ohmygod. OHMYGOD. Jason Varitek! You decided to get on base! AHHHHHHHHHHHH

This is the best game ever! The best game ever!

Of course, my ever bar is the past week…

I mean, I wish you had hit the ball, but throwing yourself in front of it, that’s noble.

OHMYGOD We are going to be okay, FDA.

WE ARE GOING TO BE OKAY.

Vacuuming stairs is hard.

WE ARE GOING TO BE OKAY!

What.. What? Jacoby? JACOBY? You just can’t have Drew stealing your thunder, can you?

TYPICAL.

I don’t know. I cut it short(er) last time. Maybe I should slice it all off in protest of September Sox.

FDA, we should fast.

Like Gandhi.

Oh. John Lackey is still pitching. I mean, if we were the Yankees, they would have pulled him. Or the Blue Jays. See, I know that, because I PAY ATTENTION TO THE GAMES, Curt Young.

Okay. So I want to look cute, but cute casual. So, I found this purple shirt with stripes at Goodwill today and I am going to pair it with these pink hair clips. Yes? Tomorrow?

This is so much more important than this loser game. And then I have this pink glitter eyeshadow stuff that is subtler than it sounds. Yes. And black jeans. And heels. Crap. I’m not supposed to wear heels anymore. Ankles. Screw that. Heels!

Oh look. Inning over.

Maybe small heels.

There are lots of ways to fast, FDA. I am giving up grilled cheese sandwiches. You could give up cursing. You could do a cursing fast. You know. Because you like cursing!

If you spit nails, could you take a picture? I will put it on my blog and call it Kristin (or is it Kristen, I forgot already?) spitting nails.

Look. They are playing. Kinda. Pedroia, could you join the club of people that know how to play? Thanks.

They look a little selfdestructy. Nice to see that in a team that’s not us.

Since Curt Young doesn’t watch the game, maybe he should go out and get everyone ice cream so that they can eat it in front of the Yankees.

This is a terrible, terrible, terrible game.

Wait.. wait… did something… did something GOOD just happen? We’re on second AND third? AND third? Did something…

I am going to stand very very very very still.

Adrian GONZALEZ, I will HATE YOU UNTIL THE DAY I DIE AND-

Oh. We got a run.

Oh. Um. Maybe that’s why you did that.

Oh. Um.

Oh.

You still can’t be in my band!

3-2.

3-2? That’s… That’s… 3-2? We could… we could… I mean…

3-2?

3-2!

No. They NEEEEEED us, FDA. They’re like our children. You have to love them no matter what. Even when they are in meth debt. That hop thing Pedroia did just now was cute.

I mean, irrelevant, really. But cute. Kind of Harlem Globetrotty, so, clearly he reads this.

OHMYGOD My computer is working! So wordpress decided to break. Which was okay, because the Red Sox were fixed. And they were not fixed. And now Morales is messing everything up. And there is only one out. And I am so angry I could… well… did, throw things. They were ink pens. And they broke against my wall dramatically and it took me like ten, maybe fifteen minutes to clean up. DAMNITNO.

I hate this game. I hate this game. I do not understand why this is happening.

Hi, Jere and Andrew. I am glad I am not alone.

Yes. Yes. Talk to him. TALK TO HIM.

JD Drew is back. That’s good.

Andrew, this is the internet. Maybe I don’t have a shirt. Maybe I have five shirts. You don’t know.

I seriously almost died in the 9th. I was okay in the 10th and 11th. In the 12th I started to get aneurysmy again.

We go the 14th? I hope so. My computer (unsurprisingly) must be slow, because it is in the bottom of the 13th.

Okay. I’m back. I’m back, guys. SOMEBODY say SOMETHING to make me feel better.

ANYTHING. SOMETHING.

I don’t know. I don’t know!

In the interim between broken wordpress and fixed wordpress, I turned the volume wayyyyy up on the Sox game and vacuumed my stairs. All of them. Well, except for the middle two stairs. I’m not sure how to do that. I can’t carry my vacuum (it’s huge) and the extendy tube does not reach those two stairs.

It’s horrific.

So I have some great stairs. And two crappy stairs.

It’s like the Red Sox.

And those two crappy stairs just ruin the whole team of stairs.

Now it is in the 14th! But Jere already knew that.

Okay. Seriously. Commercial break. PEPTALK TIME.

True or false… I should chop my hair off.

You are guys. You don’t care.

I miss Kevin Youkilis.

We should take bets on how many innings this will go. I’ve got five on 16.

Why are they doing this to us, Jere?

Why?

Andrew. If -I- were in New York, I’d be busy FIXING THIS.

Oh yeah. Now that I can type nooooooooo one wants to comment anymore.

Yay! We did something! We did something, guys! We’re on base again! We’re on base again! Marcoooooo Scutaroooooooo….

I must be like five minutes behind you, Jere. This is great. You can warn me before horrible things happen.

Jacoby Ellsbury will save us. He will save us all.

I have to work tomorrow. And make lasagne. And clean my kitchen. And do all of these things by like six p.m. because, theoretically, that is when the boy gets here. Even though I have a meeting at 6:30 that I kind of forgot about. Conundrum. If I don’t go to it, it won’t be in the paper. And if it’s not in the paper, it didn’t happen. And if it didn’t happen, I didn’t need to go in the first place.

I love logic.

I also love you, Marco Scutaro. Because you are on a base.

Something went out of the park? DAMN YOU MLB delay. Salty is batting right now.

I want to dance. I want to dance… damn it.

DAMN YOU, SALTY. Pop caught. But you guys know that. Jacoby at the bat. I am excited. I feel like I am going to my own surprise birthday party. I LOVE fake surprises. Must. Adjust. Makeup. Before turning doorknob…

I just fell off my couch.

I knew it was coming. You told me it was coming. I just fell off the couch.

It felt like calories, Andrew. It felt like calories and I LOVE food.

Are you crying? I’m crying. I don’t think a baseball game has made me cry since Tek got his last home run.

7-4.

I… I…

I need a minute with my thoughts.

I can feel again, guys! I can… feel…

It’s like… how centuries were judged before and after Christ? You know, BC? AD?

All moments from now on will be referred to as AJ.

After Jacoby.

I hate babies. But I’d have yours, Jacoby. I would.

Please, Andrew. I belong to Kevin Youkilis. And. Um. Jacoby Ellsbury. I think Kevin Youkilis would understand.

Okay. Bullpen. All you have to do is keep them from scoring three times. Think you can do that? I think…

I think I don’t trust you. Curt Young. Tito. I will blame you. I will not blame Felix Doubrant. I will blame YOU.

All I have ever wanted in my life were these three outs.

OHMYGOD I hope so. We have one out on my computer. One out. I hope we won.

You can tell me the ending. It’s okay. It’s not a Hitchcock movie.

Well. Um. Kind of. It’s kind of like Vertigo, don’t you think? But with a positive (I hope) ending.

So. Um. Not like Vertigo.

Pleasepleasepleaseplease strike out. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Felix Doubrant. I won’t make fun of you the next time you play. Probably. Just do this for me.

TWO OUTS! TWO OUTS! TWO OUTS!

Just one more. Just. One. More.

I am thrilled to fricking pieces at the prospect of winning.

And perplexed, because this took 14 sucky innings. And confused, because we win the Lackey games and lose EVERY OTHER GAME.

And angry, because this is not how I wanted to enter the post season.

And happy, because this game is a big middle finger to Tampa.

And angry, because Joe Girardi is spiteful.

And happy because I like winning. And grilled cheese sandwiches.

We… We WON! We won. WE WON.

Let me rephrase. JACOBY ELLSBURY WON.

JACOBY ELLSBURY WON.

Jacoby.

I miss Kevin Youkilis.

I have to go to sleep.

I have so many mixed emotions.

Maybe.. maybe Lackey SHOULD pitch during the post season…

Um.

Thank you, Jere and Andrew, for sticking it out. All we have is each other.

And Jacoby Ellsbury.

~L

I think I am happy.

Thank you, Jere. I might. :)

Categories: Drunken Live Blogging

Statistically, we’re going to win one. Live blogging: Sox vs Stanks. ILLUSTRATED.

September 25, 2011 12 comments

It is 12:30. In 35 minutes. There is going to be a baseball game. And I will illustrate it. Join me. LIVE. Because. Um. None of us should be alone right now.

—–

“It’s going to be a long day here at the stadium.”

Thanks, announcer.

Yes, Jup. We WILL start today. We WILL.

—-

One out, thanks to a jackass catch. But Jacoby is still on FIRST!

I like how the announcers are saying more mean things about AJ Burnett than they are about us.

Oh.

“The Red Sox slide…”

Oh.

“That’s how you lose games. Amazing.”

Shut up.

Damnit. They caught Jacoby. Damn.

And Pedroia is out at first.

Grrrrrrrrr.

It’s okay, guys. It’s okay.

——

Yeah. They don’t care THAT much or Jorge Posada wouldn’t be DHing.

A bunt. And Gardner gets a single. From a BUNT.

“There was not enough salt last Sunday,” announcer said. He’s been waiting since Sunday to say that.

Announcer says Salty is not great at Wake catching. Yep. I see that. I mean, he seems to ALWAYS catch for Tim. But. Um.

BLAH.

And a terrible throw by Salty. And now Gardner is on second.

How long do you think it’s going to take for the announcers to give us another salt pun?

And Jeter bunts a single

“They’re doing small ball here.”

SHUTUP.

BLAH. Paint is making it a little better. 1-0.

The Jorge chants make me want to VOMIT.

These announcers are like, the worst announcers. Um. EVER.

2-0. 2-0. 2-0. And it’s… SALTY’s fault.

Another walk.

Russell Martin. Yep. HE is the one we want to walk. YEP.

Salty, there is only one way you can fix this. By scoring 3 runs for every run you give them. THREE. So far, you owe us SIX runs. SIX.

Oh, and I wasn’t counting that error. Let’s just round it up to EIGHT runs.

EIGHT.

Derek Jeter twisted his ankle awhile ago. Did you see that? That was neat.

No. I don’t like the ankle twisting. Even if it’s a Stank. I have ankle issues, you see.

Caught by Scut. And. We are in the second inning. WHATEVER.

——

So. I’ve been thinking of ways you could lose that would entertain me.

And I’ve decided on THIS.

You’re a creative bunch. You can apply this to baseball.

GO.

Oh look. A double play.

Yeah.

Thanks for that, universe.

Okay. That’s it. Do you have a computer in the dugout?

A computer? With maybe a plasma screen?

Because there is something you all need to see.

It’s like eight minutes, but watching this is more productive that watching you:

Three outs.

Okay, quick! Play the video!

Lackey, take notes on the dry erase board.

—–

Maybe the universe wants something from us. Like. Um. A hunger strike.

Um.

Okay. How about this. I will go on a grilled cheese strike.

A grilled cheese strike.

That is my absolute favorite food. And I eat grilled cheese sandwiches every day. But NO MORE. Not until we win. I am on a grilled cheese strike. Okay. Your turn. What will you give up, Soxies?

Andrew, you should give up Jameson. Oh, and FDA, you should give up cursing. Oh! And farmville. Because both of those things seem equivalent to grilled cheese sandwiches. Peter, you should give up being sick, because I miss you. Jeb, you should give up… um… the stock market.

UNTIL WE WIN.

Virtual handshake?

Hmmm. I should have waited until lunch to give up grilled cheese.

Oh look. Crawford catches. 1, 2, 3. Nice.

NICE.

NICE!!!!

Cheering on everything I can.

—-

First out by a guy named DICKerson.

Two outs. And now they’re talking about how the Orioles are the “fly in the ointment” and I totally don’t understand what that means. Another out. Going into bottom of the fricking third.

—–

I miss winning.

And Kevin Youkilis.

We have an out. And a person on first. And Posada is back. The walking, talking, batting neck.

And Salty looks like he’s TRYING to do the juggling thing, but he lacks confidence.

A TWO RUN HOMERUN. I want. To. Die.

I don’t want to paint anymore.

Two outs.

Wake struck HIM out.

He was probably distracted by the neck.

Andrew Miller is warming up.

Mmhmm.

Russell Martin. The hater. The Kevin Gregg wannabe.

“You do wonder, how does that quote help the Yankees?” announcer said.

Martin “works a walk.”

Yeah. YEAH. Smack him down. Caught stealing.

Inning over.

YAYYYYYYYYINNINGOVERYAYYYYYYYY

A grilled cheese would hit the spot.

BLAH.

“I had no love for the Red Sox either when I played,” announcer said.

I’m so glad YOU are announcing.

STUPID MLB.

I am so unhappy.

HOMERUN FOR ELLSBURYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

THE ONLY MEMBER OF THE RED SOX WHO REMEMBERS HOW TO PLAYYYYYYYYYYYY

4-1. ONE. We’re on the board! We’re on the board! We’re on the board! We’re on the board!

Pedroia! There’s one out. and one RUN. One RUN. Match it, please.

Please? PLEASE?

Whatever. WHATEVER.

—-

Okay. No one is watching this in the world but me. No one.

My mother just called and, apparently, they’re so distraught they are watching the Panthers’ game.

“Because they can win.”

Oh.

So, I’m doing some dishes and blogging at the same time. So, if I miss something. Sigh. Leave me blissful in my ignorance?

Come back in time to see CARL CRAWFORD JUGGLE THE BALL.

Crudmuffins. This is the worst game.

5-1. DAMNIT

When old people like Derek Jeter have your number, it’s time to reassess.

Wake, I love you, but I’m glad you are sitting down.

Remember yesterday when we scored ONCE and they switched the pitcher out? Remember that, Curt?

It’s 2:51. It’s still 5-1. Now they’re talking about “epic collapses in the history of sports.” You know. Like the Mets.

Oh. And us. And US.

Just got a call from a friend who wants to go to the Parkway.

Can’t. I said. Can’t.

Social moratorium.

Not going out until the Sox win.

I may never see the people I love again.

—-

ANOTHER HOME RUN FOR ELLSBURYYYYYYYY!

All three hits? ELLSBURY.

THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS HOW TO PLAY.

2:59 p.m.

5-2.

—-

3:06 and we’re just hanging out. This is the way most teams play this time of year. YOU KNOW. THE TEAMS THAT NO LONGER CARE.  Oh look. Another bunt. Oh. A foul. Good.

Because the bunts seem to make Sox wet themselves in this game.

5-222222222.

Blah.

Bunted. And we get jackass two out but jackass one moves to second.

And now it is 6-4. And this fan stands up and takes a bow. I HATE that fan.

Seriously.

This is the dumbest game.

Now they’re moving out Albers and moving in Atchison.

I do not understand how they work the pitcher switches out in their minds.

Maybe it’s a dice toss or something.

Base hit for Papi! Clearly challenged by Jacoby’s badassishness.

Jeff, it’s hard to play when you’re a team of ONE.

And two outs. Look at that. And Papi went away..

And… well… maybe if we could all just NOT GET OUT, we could fly through the rotation and just wait for Jacoby…

Seriously. Posada is deformed or something. JUST a neck. With a pimple that some might call a face. I just don’t understand. And those veins. All the better for juicing, my dear.

Outs. FINALLY. I am glad that stupid 7th is over.

Where are we in the lineup?

Jacoby????

—-

Well. We’re on second. If you’re still watching. If anyone is still watching. Anyone… one out. Top of the 8th. 3:40 p.m…..

3:46. I hate this game.

FDA! I am so glad to see you! Do you… do you… Do you know what’s happened? Do you? It’s… it’s… HORRIBLE.

Fix it. Fix it now!

Bought off by someone… bought off by someone… Hmmm….

FDA. I think the Red Sox broke my heart today.

So, I LOVE brussel sprouts. and there’s this recipe for maple braised sprouts in Every Day Food. Is that a guy-friendly dish?

I’m planning. Because it’s either grocery list writing or watching this game.

Someone was at my door. I thought it was someone who would save us. But it’s not.

Sigh.

Good. I am glad the Patriots are losing. I am GLAD.

I saw some commentary that said we got our win with hockey this year.

Okay. I have a guest. She is more important than this game.

At least Pedroia is on base. Stop booing PAPI!

I hate this. We just lost.

I hate this. I am going somewhere.

I will see you later.

“They probably won’t make the playoffs. They probably don’t deserve it,” Mom said.

My optimist mother.

Sigh.

~L

Categories: Drunken Live Blogging

The day hope died: Live blogging Sox vs Stanks. SIGH.

September 24, 2011 95 comments

NEVER SURRENDER!

It is 2:49 and I am OFF WORK! Kinda. I have like… another story to write… but I am OFF WORK!!! So, I’m planning my victory extravaganza outfit. I’m thinking miniskirt and Youk jersey. Definitely pig tails. Maybe pig tails. I am trying to look more adult now that I have a job with (sorta) power. It’s hard to look important when you’re making important editorial decisions with lipsmackers lip gloss on, pig tails and chewing gum, apparently.  Going back to that super, super, super crappy bar to live blog this sucker. I’m going to write my article, live blog AND hang out in a scary, scary local bar… ALL AT THE SAME TIME!

Oh. And we’re going to win a baseball game. We are going to win the HELL out of a baseball game. Will Smith says so in this clip:

It’s I mean, kinda lame, since already KNOW we’re going to win. I mean, where’s the thrill of uncertainty? Price we must pay, price we must pay. Speaking of Price, TAMPA LOST yesterday. So, there’s that. I’ll be bar-side 4ish. So, come hang out with me!

Here you go. You are welcome:

See you in an hour.

—-

I am so excited. I really, truly am. I am dancing around my apartment to this. RIGHT NOW.

I think my dog is afraid of me. 45 minutes!

—-

Poor Mike and his misguided hypothesis. Judge him not, Soxies, but look upon him with pity.

:)

—–

En route to the bar. Here’s hoping they actually GIVE ME A TELEVISION THIS TIME. Sigh. North Carolina.

There. See? No pig tails. Because I'm an ADULT.

So, this is great. Here. He ALREADY put a tv on the game. Which is an insta-improvement over last time, if you’ll recall. But there’s an issue… So… the bartender? He’s a YANKEES FAN. Yep.

—-

On the way up here, I sure did have a pretty drive. Between my house and the bar are miles of just overlook. Most people smile when they see the little scattered evidence of fall. I scowl and scowl and scowl and scowl because when Grandfather Mountain looks like that, it will snow soon. I hate snow. Have I told you that? I HATE snow. HATE. 3:47. Goody. Like twenty minutes of banter with a Stankee bartender. Seriously. I find the North Carolina bar with the Stankee bartender. What are the odds of that?

4:07. Here we go. There’s no sound, of course, but beggars and choosiness, well, you know.

So, the weirdness is has already started. There are only like twenty people in here, and I’ve already been approached by two of them. This will not end well for me.

And by me, I mean ME. Not the Red Sox. They will win. Of course. As you already know.

Okay. I am kind of ready for this to start.

—–

I think all these people are regulars. I want to be a regular. I mean, I’m a regular at this one bar. But it’s far away.

—–

I’m sitting across from this guy who HAS to be twelve years old. He looks just like the young kid from “Freaks and Geeks.”

—-

Well, it didn’t hit Yankee Stadium. That’s good. I guess. I am fascinated by this story and the idea that a satellite can crash to earth and no one notices. FASCINATED.

—-

Freddy Garcia, your name sounds made up. So many baseball names sound made up. I guess naming children is a good way to determine their future careers. My parents should have tried harder.

Hi, Jacoby. I am glad to see you. I wish I could hear them talking. Oh look, Tito is eating sunflower seeds. Of course he is. Maybe someone drugged his sunflower seeds. I mean, how would you tell the difference between drugged sunflower seeds and nondrugged sunflower seeds? You couldn’t really. Maybe that was the problem. Ew. I think Beckett was dipping. Ew. Okay. Enough of the close ups. Let’s get back to Jacoby.

They’re probably going to want to feign suspense. You know, this being a Yankees-Sox Rivalry game and all, so I don’t know whether we sholud expect anything from this inning.

Oh. Look. A single. Okay. That was surprising. I like this. I guess there still can be suspense even when you know the ultimate outcome. Not like we know how they’re going to get there, FDA.

Is it just me, or are their away uniforms PARTICULARLY shiny today? There was determination behind that Crawford foul just then. Likely influenced by those Cashman lies. Chin up, Carl Crawford. Tito loves you.

And so do we. Because you will contribute to the victory. I used to know this watermelon victory cheer. It was kind of great. Hah. They tried the fake out steal trick on us. You don’t try that on Jacoby, kids. SAFE. Now we’re on second. Thanks, guys. This guy behind me is talking (VERY LOUDLY) about how much North Carolina sucks. This might not be the bar for that convo, kid. Oh. Pop out. It’s okay, Carl. You tried. <- maturity. I think I’m growing as a person.

Pedroia the destroyahhhhhh.

I am eating clam chowder. Which is probably a bad idea here. You know what? I’ve never actually had clam chowder in New England. Interesting.

I thought eating clam chowder in a scary bar might further showcase my commitment to the 2011 Red Sox. Oh. Um. Out. Okay…

That’s fine, really. Because David Ortiz is here. And he’s bigger than you. He’s bigger than ALL of you.

There is a girl behind me with a tie dye dragon shirt on. Just observing. Not making any judgments. Because that would be bitchy. And I am not bitchy. Nope. Real tie dye. Mmmhmmm. And the anti-North Carolina winner over there, I ACTUALLY just heard him say, “put all my stuff on her tab.” Classy. Classy. Oh. Papi popped out. Oh. That’s fine. FINE. Because we’re still winning. You know.

Three outs. And the bottom half commences.

——

Hello, America. THIS is Jon Lester. The real Jon Lester. Not the shaky-I-might-be-Jon-Lester. And Youkilis has been watching him closely, Soxies. To keep him away from the Lackey Koolaid. Also known as lackeyade. Gross.

Hello, Derek Jeter. This is awkward, isn’t it? The last time we saw each other. Oh. Awkward. Look, Derek. It was a one time thing. Okay, a three time thing. Please just try to forget it, k?

Pedroia just made this awesome, movie catch. It was awesome. And movie-like.

Oh look. Curtis Grandersnot. I am glad I can call you by your true name once more.

Ahhhhhh the balance is restored.

That was a fancy strike, Grandersnot. A fancy strike. I felt it in my heart.

Two outs. That was almost sneaky, Grandersnot.

If we lose? Andrew! Haven’t you been listening to me? I thought we bonded yesterday, you and I. We are not going to lose. I have decided. Sigh. No one ever listens to me. Not even on the Internet. It’s really shameful. Really. And alcoholic comas sure are expensive.

I wish I could afford something fancy. I feel like something super fancy. Like a vodka martini.

YAYYYYYY Out. THAT, New York, is how you play baseball. Um. In case you forgot. What with the rain delay, and all.

——

War paint. DAMNIT. I KNEW I forgot something. Tomorrow, remind me to wear war paint. Or black lipstick or something. Cyellekate, I am happy to see you. I wish I had a spear. Because there’s this guy who was five stools away. And now he’s three stools away. And I’m not sure what the appropriate adult reaction should be.

Adrian Gonzalez has decided to fight for the MVP. You’ll see. They’ll all see.

Okay. So I never said you’d see THIS inning.

Out.

Yes, CK. I can too. Jacoby can really do anything he wants since he’s the only one who REMEMBERS HOW TO PLAY. You know, if I didn’t KNOW with absolute, unwavering certainty that victory is imminent, I might be like, annoyed or something. Certainty gives me Zen.

Marco Scutaro. He used to give me this cringey thing at the base of my occipitals, but lately, kid’s been growin gon me.

Oh. Look. An out.

Did he just smile? Did you just SMILE, Marco Scutaro? That is NOT SMILEWORTHY.

Breathing. In and out. Decisions, Lauren. DECISIONS. It has been decided. These two innings are of little consequence, really.

—–

Oh. So the bartender? He used to be a repo man. Which kind of works with the Stankee fandom, right?

Observations.

And the Miami game is on another television! My poor father must be so conflicted.

It was his birthday yesterday. I called him.

Alex Rodriguez. Oh. Um. Awkward. Um. So. The other night… you know what? Just ask Jeter to relay the message. It’s too nauseating to have to go through this speech again. It was ONE NIGHT. COME ON, PEOPLE. ONE NIGHT. I was lonely. I was sad. I was vulnerable. EVERYONE MAKES MISTAKES, EVEN MADONNA. Madonna has scary arms.

Out. Thanks, guys. Thanks.

All you Yankees look alike.

I look AMAZING in black lipstick. In anything, really. Oh, except orange. But I have this colorblindness thing and sometimes make mistakes. No, Andrew. No head heating yet. They’re aren’t supposed to get on base.

DAMNIT, LESTER. I JUST SAID THEY ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO GET ON BASE.

Maybe I diiiiiid stab my last boyfriend. Maybe I diiiiiiid. Well, the bartender did say he remembers me. He calls me napkin girl because of the napkin dispenser incident. You’d think that would be enough!

I wore black lipstick in high school this one time to prove a point. Oh! Oh! And to a football game this once. And then wrote letters in white out (don’t do that). Oh, and in high school powderpuff, we all wore black lipstick. Some of us got black eyes to match. Black lipstick is so awesome. I used to have purple lipstick. I went through this phase.

Oh, the wrath of Lester. Did you just see that? Why do we only have one out? This is a test, isn’t it? A test. Crudmuffins. I don’t like this test. That’s okay. First and second. I see what you’re doing, Jonny. Setting us up for a double play. Right? Right? RIGHT?

Who IS this guy batting? He looks like that guy from that show. You know the one. The kids doing wild things or something on Nickelodeon and ohmyfrickinggodthatdidnotlooksafetomeohhellwhyohwhyohwhywouldyouloadthebasesyouincompetenttwit. YOUKILIS. YOU HAD ONE JOB. KEEP LESTER AWAY FROM THE KOOLAID. ONE JOB.

It is hard for me to trust people.

ONE JOB.

Jesus Montero. Curt Young. Isn’t there something you should be doing? A conversation you should be having? DID YOU LEARN NOTHING FROM TORONTO? I am so fricking glad I have made this decision to win or I MIGHT be angry.

Um. The bartender just took my napkin dispenser.

You have a lucky jersey and you are NOT wearing it? What is wrong with you, Andrew? Do you hate me? Do you hate us?

PUT ON THE DAMN JERSEY.

And YOU, John Lackey. This is YOUR fault. Your stupid attitude and your stupid comments and your stupid koolaid.

Okay. The guy behind me (classy I-hate-NC dude) just said he wants to go to an abortion tournament. How do I find these people?

Oh. That’s right. I go to bars alone.

I am full of rage. Or. Um. Would be. If I didn’ tknow we were winning.

Oh. Loooooooook at that. 1-0. Okay. WHATEVER. Okay. So we’re going to win THIS way, I see. Okay. FINE. FINE. Curt Young. You’re going to drunk dial John Farrell tonight. I see it. In my mind.

Okay, Andrew. You’re closer. I think I’m going to need you to go over there. STAT.

Oh, look. It’s everyone’s favorite. RUSSELL. Hi, Russell. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in my whole life. I am SO excited to see you. You know who this is, right, Jon?

Oh no. Jon Lester has that look. Oh no.

WHAT? WHAT? WAS THAT YOU, CARL? WAS THAT YOU?

Why? WHY DO YOU HATE OUR TROOPS?

I am going to throw up. On this bar.

3-0? 3-0????????
Seriously, Curt. What are you trying to do to me? We know we’re going to win. Couldn’t we just do it painlessly?

What? What just happened? What? 6-0? WHAT? Is this because of what I said earlier, Derek? BECAUSE I’M SORRY. We could still… um… be friends. WELL NOT NOW.

You should have just articulated your thoughts. It didn’t have to be this way.

Breakups are hard.

This one just got easier.

DAMNIT.

Curtis Grandersnot.

I don’t know. I don’t understand. I decided. I DECIDED. It’s going to be okay, right? It has to be. It has been DECIDED.

SHUT UP, BARTENDER. I WILL VOMIT ON  YOUR BAR.

Andrew. FIX THIS.

Okay. So Jeff (Tiger’s fan) just called me and said, “Lauren, because I care about you, please don’t turn on the television.”

I HATE YOU ALL. (Not you guys. Like, the world and stuff). Aren’t you supposed to be dead, Jeter?

You know. This is a lot like “Dolphin Tale.” When they thought they were going to have to put the dolphin to sleep. But they didn’t. They built her an artificial tail. That’s all we need, really! An artificial tail! So, if we could just find Morgan Freeman…

I wonder, if I ask really nicely, do you think the bartender will give me bottlecaps to throw? I mean, it’s in his best interest, right? It’s either that or this salt shaker. Anyone know any good knock-knock jokes.

A car alarm is going off. I WILL SCREAM.

CK- That is a very astute observation re: Crawford. Say it isn’t so, Carl! How many times have I defended you? Like, at least twice. AT LEAST.

—–

Hi, Josh Reddick. My mother wants me to marry you. I mean. I would, maybe. But my heart is for Youkilis.

I miss Kevin Youkilis. He would NEVER let this happen. He loves us. He loves us all.

Damnit. DAMNIT. Maybe if we blog about what SHOULD happen. You know. like… wow. What the frick was that? What the? Oh. Oh, it’s okay. IT’S OKAY. It was just a Cub’s replay. Okay. Okay.

Damn. My heart almost felt something again.

Maybe we should blog about what SHOULD happen. Like, Jarrod Saltalamacchia SHOULD hit a ridiculous homer. Like, a ridiculous one. Like, look at that strike. And reverse it. To a ridiculous hit. In the amazing sense of the word ridiculous.

I wish I was drinking Jameson. Or something that looks real girly and fancy but isn’t because I don’t like things that taste like Koolaid. Hi, Jason Varitek. I miss you. Ohohohohoh… a close up of Kevin Youkilis.

I’m FINE, BARTENDER. I have something in my eye.

There is no spark. LOOK AT THEM. I mean, we’re still going to win. But I don’t know if we deserve to.

Oh look. We’re on first. Whatever.

I can’t hear the announcers.

CK. Scary thing, I don’t think it’s Garcia. It’s US. Just look at us. We’re the most feared team in the ALE, alright. We beat ourselves in EVERY FRICKING GAME.

Shawn! Shawn! I am so glad to see you! Fix this! FIX it because Andrew is doing a TERRIBLE job of fixing it! Oh, Shawn. Look at what they are doing to us! Look at what we are doing to ourselves! The humanity!

It’s like that time at the end of the Planet of the Apes (SPOILER) where Charlton Heston sees the Statue of Liberty. This game is EXACTLY like that.

I wish I could see the Alec Baldwin Stanks commercial. Wait. I wish I could hear it, rather.

DAMN IT ALL.

Andrew! Stop watching commercials and fix this damn game. Am I the only person in the world with priorities?

Someone coughed on my shoulder. OHGODIamgoingtodieofacoughdisease.

Lackey and Wake?

I TOLD YOU IT WAS CURT YOUNG’S FAULT!!!

Sadly, Lackey will probably win. Because he has weird luck.

I REFUSE to applaud Carl Crawford for anything right now. FOR ANYTHING.

Jon Lester looks done. Look at his eyes. You can tell a lot by their eyes. Well, we can. APPARENTLY CURT YOUNG CAN’T.

Oh look. On first. Oh look. It’s the guy who spells your name wrong, Andrew.

Alfredo Aceves. THIS is an Alfredo Aceves game. PLEASE, GOD.

It’s not about them anymore, FDA. It’s about US. And We… WE have… WE HAVE DECIDED.

So. That’s all there is to it. ALL there is. All there is.

afkojdsssssssslaf

I’m okay. My head just landed on my keyboard. Oh look. Curt Young is calling the bullpen. Oh look. So now we know what has to happen for you to pick up the damn phone. A FRICKINGLESTERPOCALYPSE.

Why? WHY?

Okay. Roll call. WHICH ONE OF YOU DIDN’T DECIDE?

Was it you, Shawn? Or you, Andrew? Because SOMEONE DIDN’T BELIEVE. Clap your hands damnit. CLAP YOUR HANDS. 8-0.

Tito to the mound. Tito to drag Jonny off for a timeout. Tito walking with a mouth full of sunflower seeds.

“8-0?!” Bartender is a jackass. “I thought it was 0-0.”

“It’s okay, I say.”

“You’re playing for the post season, babe. We’re just playing for fun.”

“Or for spite.”

“What?”

“Do you have sprite?”

You don’t want to get the pourer of the beer mad at you when it is 8-0.

This is not the time to worry about your FANTASY team.

The world is crumbling like aluminum foil and you are worried about a game. THIS IS LIFE, Andrew. LIFE.

And death, apparently.

No. I decided. I DECIDED.

RUSSELL MARTIN. So we meet again. Allow me to introduce you to CybelleKate…

Jon Lester looks so sad. It’s okay, Jon. I don’t blame you. I BLAME CURT YOUNG.

Dope slapping? How do you dope slap someone?

You should be on your way to Yankee STADIUM, Andrew. SOMEONE needs to talk to Curt Young…

You don’t need to see, FDA. Games like this, you can FEEL.

—–

I wish Fox didn’t blackout Saturday games on my computer. Because I really think public is not the place for me right now.

Dustin Pedroia. You have to score EIGHT RUNS. Do it. NOW.

There is this incessant beeping. And it is the stupid bar video game. It is like a maze or something. And I bet, if I threw a pint glass at it, the screen would break. Of course… it would probably still break.

Oh. Oh. Oh. In my irritation, I failed to see Pedroia skip to first.

Oh. Okay.

Oh. Never mind. An out. We have two outs. And… Adrian Gonzalez, I wish you were Kevin Youkilis.

T-shirt?! You’re supposed to be wearing your lucky jersey!

Maybe I should turn my shirt inside out. Um. In this bar. Um. Um.

No. NO. We are not breaking up. NO. Even though, the crying thing might be in the future. And oh… you are on base? Really? Well, okay.

Let go of mementos. That’s what I did when Johnny Damon and I broke up. That was really hard for me. And I started this fire.

Plot the end of their existence…

Hmmm…. Wow. I know we’re talking about the Red Sox. But in my last sort-of-not-relationship… I didn’t do any of that. Um. Except the Point out the Obvious. I always do that.

No. This isn’t Lester’s fault. He needs hugs. This is Curt Young’s fault.

FDA! No! No! We decided, FDA! We decided! We’re going to win!

Andrew. I. Do. Not. Know.

We’re… supposed… to… win…

Oh. I get it. It is a joke. It’s a joke, guys! That’s brilliant! A joke! The Red Sox are playing a joke! Okay. We just have to articulate that it’s not funny. Once they realize how not funny they are. Once they realize…

SONOFABITCH. Guy just asked if he could turn MY tv to the Miami game.

THERE ARE LIKE THIRTY TVs IN HERE ON THE MIAMI GAME.

I WILL FIGHT YOU.

Come on, bartender! Maybe I really NEED a napkin.

—-

Curtis Grandersnot is STEALING our black lipstick idea. Curtis Grandersnot, you canNOT pull that off like I can. Seriously. Blacklipstick. Him or me? Who’s hotter?

You will LOSE EVERY TIME.

This really creepy guy just (THANKGODYOUCAUGHTTHATISTILLHATEYOUCARL) approached me and I was like… mining my wit. You know. For something mean to say. And then he tells me about karaoke tonight. and I LOVE karaoke. So I paused.

Mark Teixera you sonofa OUT! Out! EAT IT. EAT IT AND CHOKE. I bet you know all about choking because your affinity with-

WHAT? I NEEDED A NAPKIN, OKAY? Don’t you walk away with MY salt shaker. I WILL fight you.

I did. I did stab my last boyfriend. With THIS SALT SHAKER.

Stabbin’ boys and skippin’ stones. That’s how I spend MY weekends.

Let’s change the subject. Yes. Let’s distract ourselves. Marco Scutaro, if I don’t look at you. You don’t strike out. I think, therefore I am. That MIGHT have been Plato. And it TOTALLY applies to this game. If a Scutaro falls in New York and there’s no Fox there to tape it, does he make a sound when he crashes, crashes, crashes, crashes to the ground?

Josh Reddick. Oh. Look. Someone made it to first. Oh. Okay. So… when I don’t watch you play… you do… better? Does this… does this mean… it’s MY fault? All of this is MY fault because I watch you? Is it… ohmygod. The guilt. The GUILT. I don’t know if I can live with myself, guys. I might just have to order more of the scary clam chowder. There are worse ways to die.

For example…

Hi, Garcia. GARCIA.

Out. Just one out.

Okay. New York guy? The bartender? He’s talking about the Dolphins. The MIAMI dolphins. Now, you know how I’m a fan in familial responsibility only, but I feel this… this… rage.

You know? I mean… the Dolphins can’t even DEFEND themselves.

But I can. I can. I will write something mean. On a napkin. Oh. Right. I have no napkins.

DAMNIT

I am glad I can’t hear the Fox boneheads.

But I am sooooooo jealous of your spear. I don’t even have a metaphorical one today.

WHICH MIGHT BE THE WHOLE PROBLEM.

Andrew, the only Kevin we need is Youkilis. Kevin YOUKILIS.

The Florida State game is on another tv. We don’t like them. I don’t know why, exactly. But it is the way I have been brought up.

I have been brought up with so much hate. A base hit? I … I missed it. Oh no! It’s me!

Subject change. Okay. If you were a basketball-loving guy who came back from the dead, and you were visiting Lauren for like two days this week, what would you want for dinner? Like, that’s not meat? Because I think I’m going to make basketball-come-back-from-the-dead-guy dinner. Maybe something I could make tomorrow and freeze and reheat and make it look like I’m Susie-homemaker. Oh! And my boss told me I could have Tuesday off for basketball-comeback-from-the-dead-guy. I mean, I didn’t tell him it was for basketball-come-back-from-the-dead-guy. I said I needed a “personal” day, but he was surprisingly receptive. Probably because he knows how unhappy my job makes me. Oh look, an out. Anyway, this will be the first time I’ve seen basketball-comeback-from-the-dead-guy since he died. And I wrote that super EMO post like weeks ago. Remember that? So. There’s that. I’m thinking something with tomatoes. He doesn’t like mushrooms. Because, clearly, he’s a freak. He’s coming Monday!

Which is probably a terrible idea. But. I have lots of terrible ideas.

Like this idea that I could come here and watch this game and not throw a pint glass. Like that idea.

I mean, I’m willing to entertain that option, Andrew. Sobriety clearly isn’t working.

How’s your aim, CK?

—-

Oh, crud muffins. They’re back at the bat. Oh crapcakes.

Good. I hate people with nice cars.

Yeah. Sit the frick down. YEAH.

So, I just screamed and jumped up and down on my barstool. I’ve decided to overreact positively to everything good that happens. Like that out just now.

YESSSSSSSSS! A catch! A catch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS! GOTEAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!

The roof! The roof! The roof is on fire! We don’t need no water let the motherfuc- WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?

Ouch. I bruised my hip.

OHMYGOD LIKE KEVIN YOUKILIS.

OHMYGOD WHAT IF IT IS A HERNIA?

OHMYGOD I COULD DIE.

GO TEAM!

I think I’m mildly sauced. Sorry. I’m less funny with the sauce.

The sauce. HAH. Why do they call booze sauce? I don’t even like ketchup.

I HATE YOU, ALEX GONZALEZ. AND YOUR LITTLE CHARLIE’S ANGEL TOO. I don’t care that you broke up. I will NOT watch her show.

WHAT? WHAT? Crap. They’re replaying the Mariner’s game. I thought that was us. Crap.

I DEFY YOU, STARS! <- That’s from Shakespeare. I have two degrees in Shakespeare, you know.

ANDRUW JONES STOP SPELLING YOUR NAME WRONG!

Maybe we should start our own baseball team. We call it the Jacobys. And Jacoby can be the team captain. I didn’t mean that. Tek, I would never have a team without you.

I wish I were in New York, Andrew. We could stalk them. I LOVE stalking people.

I mean. Um. Not real people

Like bad people.

It’s my job, okay!

I AM a reporter.

And.

Sigh.

GO TEAMMMMMM. What? Commercial? WHAT? Commercial? THIS IS CRAP.

You know, I (true story) do freelance PI and criminal background checks. Criminal background checks, mostly. Maybe I should devote all of my investigation skills to what’s in John Lackey’s koolaid and why he feels compelled to share.

Michelin commercials TERRIFY me.

Andrew, tell me a joke.

CK, let’s plan our outfits for tomorrow. I think I’ll wear warpaint, my Youkilis jersey and- screw adulthood, BRAIDS.

PEDROIA. When did you get here? Hi.

I can’t read lips, but I’m pretty sure Kevin Youkilis just apologized to us.

I used to make lasagne. I can’t remember. Is it hard?

I used to date this Italian guy. But he was a liar.

About being Italian. His mom used tomato paste (I know!).

NOONECARESABOUTHEROCKIES,MLB

Okay. So here’s what happened. That satellite that crashed today? It caused like, supervillain radioactive waves or something that interfered with my decision. See, my decision waves were bouncing through the earth’s atmosphere, right? And then the satellite came barreling through. We didn’t have a chance, really.

SPACE INTERFERENCE. That should mean something.

Oh look. Dustin Pedroia. When did you get here? Hi.

Adrian Gonzalez.

We have DP on first. Really. I didn’t make that up. It happened.

Oh. Um. CK. We are to far away. if only we knew someone in NEW YORK who could deliver the message. If ONLY. <- By the way, Andrew- these hints are directly aimed at you. You know. Since you live in NEW YORK.

I wish I was staying on 57th Street. Or a Street. I live on a Lane. Which is entirely different. And less paved.

Oh- and on a mountain.

Could you tell Kevin Youkilis that I’m here? Oh, and could you give him my contact info? I mean, I’m sure he’ll want to meet me. Thanks.

Clean jokes? It’s easy to clean up dirty jokes. You just replace the bad words with different kinds of ice cream. Like fudgsicles and creamsicles and Italian ice. Which isn’t really an ice cream. But it’s frozen. So, there’s that.

More beer, bartender! More beer!

Your head is very shiny, bartender. Verrrrrrry shiny.

We have TWO people on base? TO people?! Hi, Mike Aviles. I haven’t seen you since that one time. Marco Scuaturo. I like how your name almost kinda rhymes.

I HATE pressure too. But I love music by Queen. It’s a conundrum, really.

FUDGSICLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

You creamsicling excuse for an Italian ice.

HIT THE BALL.

I DO NOT NEED TO SEE A GAME SUMMARY. I AM WATCHING THE GAME.

CHUNKYMONKEYYYYYYYY

So. I just realized I now have this entire side of the bar to myself. I am not sure how that happened.

That’s the LEAST of Jeter’s problems. He also had a mullet. True story. It was on Deadspin.

WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT? It’s a term paper. MOVE IT ALONG.

On a random note, I’m thinking of cutting my hair. Like all of it. Like Felicity did in the second season of Felicity. I wish my hair was curly.

Maybe I will go blond again. That really worked for me. Socially.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Bottom of the 6thhhhhhhhhhhh….. loooooossssing to the yankeeeeeeeess…..

I’m writing a song about today.

I mean, I will. When I get home to my guitar.

Beer.

Blood vessels probably broke in my brain. That’s called an aneurysm.

Loser soup. That is what I will call my song about today. Loser soup.

Homerun. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay. We’re fine. We’re fine. We’re fine. I STILL BELIEVE.

SONOFABITCHIHATETHEWORLD.

9-0.

9-0.

9-0.

We have become undone.

That’s from something. A song, maybe.

This is the most unappreciative bar in the world. I don’t see a juke box. You’d think they’d APPRECIATE my song selection.

I’m telling you. It’s not rookie pitcher’s fault. It’s CURT YOUNG. He is doing this to us. He’s trying to set himself apart from John Farrell, see…

When I go home, I am making lasagne. I need to go to the grocery store. Oh. In this jersey. Oh.

Damnstraight in this jersey. YOU PEOPLE CAN’T TOUCH ME.

So, in your life.. how much time do you think you have spent watching baseball? Like, how many days? Like, if we had never heard of this sport. If we had never given them a chance to hurt us. How many days would we have left?

And HOW MANY BRAIN CELLS???

Don’t ever let them see you cry.

Nevereverneverever.

Maybe we can tie it.

Maybe….

—-

Okay. Seriously. Let’s analyze this. I think this is 100 percent Curt Young’s fault. What do you think?

Conor Jackson. CONOR JACKSON. Sigh.

The Red Sox must HATE our hearts, Andrew.

Andrew, I think our feelings about the Red Sox and the months and months of our lives they have eaten can best be expressed by folk icon Bonnie Raitt:

You are welcome, America.

OhOhHAVEAHEARTBEEEEEAATTTTT.

No, you shut up. This is a PUBLIC bar. I can sing if I want to.

Yeah? Well Florida State is like, the dumbest team ever. Oh. Where did my wit go?

UFC. Maybe we should. Um. Watch that. You know. Give UFC a try. Um. Thanks, Fox. For your commercials and your suggestions.

Hi, Jacoby. Fix it. Fix it goooood. Oh. Oh! One on base. We could… we could do this! We could- Carl Crawford. Oh.

What?! What?! Base hit? Base… SCORE?

Score? What?

Oh. Well. For a second I thought…. I hoped…

Oh.

Andrew! If you have something to say, you should share it with the ENTIRE class.

Curt Young! Curt Young! Pay attention! See how they have an EIGHT run lead in the 7th inning and we get ONE run and they take the jackass out? See that? Write that in your trapperkeeper.

WHEN PITCHERS SUCK, IT IS MY JOB TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. BECAUSE I AM THE PITCHING COACH. <- There. Just copy that. In cursive.

Ohohoh! We are playing! We are… playing! Baseball! We are playing baseball!!!!

This is stressful. Are you stressed? This is stressful.

Papi. It is Papi. It hurts to hope…

Yes. I like champagne.

Um. Well. Not really. But I will sooooooooooooo drink it in front of you, Alex Rodriguez.

Pappppiiiiiiiiiii…..

This is spite. This is true spite. Seriously. I mean, if we were like, the Orioles… we’d have people in the lineup we’ve never heard of. SPITE.

It wasn’t a breeze. It was a mighty wind. A mighty—

CRAPCUPCAKESWITHCRAPICING.

I will take no more pictures. You do not need to see my face now.

It is scrunchy.

DAMNIT

Why do good things happen to terrible people?

See, when they invent the teleporter, we could, all three of us, go someplace. Right now. Someplace random where the bad thoughts won’t find us. Like. Um. Utah. Or someplace like that.

No. If I had a teleporter, Curt Young would NOT be in New York.

I’d do that for you, America.

Ryan Lavarnway.

So. We officially don’t care.

And by we I mean EVERYONE IN THE RED SOX ORGANIZATION. Everyone. EVERYONE. From the pitching coach to the janitors should be FIRED.

I didn’t mean that.

YES I DID.

I didn’t mean that.

YES I DID.

YOUKILIS SHALL BE SPARED.

I am so sad.

And angry.

And confused.

I bet this is what getting a divorce feels like, except less expensive. You know. For me. This divorce is QUITE expensive for Theo Epstein.

Of course, he is heartless and hates us all and wants us to be unhappy.

I didn’t mean that.

YES I DID.

I didn’t mean that.

I AM SO CONFUSED.

Yes, CK. You will save us. You will save us all.

HIT HIM IN THE FACE!

Okay. I thought about this. Very articulately. For like, thirty seconds. And I have decided Jup is right. If they’re going to lose (and I say IF), they could at least be entertaining. You know? Like, playing tag with the ball. And juggling. And fakeout antics like they do at the end of Rookie of the Year when they have nothing left to lose. They could throw Millar in. And Tito. And hell, Heidi. Put Heidi in as pitcher. DO IT.

THAT is the way you lose a baseball game.

Not this. Please. Not this.

Just put Don Orsillo as shortstop and watch the chaos ensue.

Please? Please?

WHYYYYYYYYYY

—-

Okay. I have had like, twenty seconds to breathe. And it’s okay. I mean, it’s the bottom of the 7th inning. Not the ninth. And we decided. And… anddddd

TREVOR MILLER?

SERIOUSLY, CURT YOUNG? SERIOUSLY?

We want John Farrell! We want John Farrell!

Come on! If the Stanks could steal Damon from the Sox, SURELY the Sox could steal Farrell from the Jays.

Once we get him across the border, he’s OURS!

All we need, really, is a freezer truck and a little bit of spunk.

At least Florida State is losing.

Maybe the Red Sox should try something new. Like tee ball.

I like how we have a thousand hits and like no runs. It’s juxtaposition irony. Like art.

Maybe Curt Young is trying to be a conceptual artist. Fail. Fail. Fail.

Did you REALLY hit a homerun off of Trevor Miller? Because I am very gullible. I believe most things people tell me because I have this inherent belief that humanity is good inside. <- Why I fail as a fan.

I have NEVER been called vanilla ice cream.

I do not know how I feel about that.

Speaking of ice cream, did you know Joe Girardi does not allow it in his dugout. True story. And THAT, ladies and gents, is why the Stanks are evil. Because of ICE CREAM.

I don’t know who that guy with the glasses is (the one they keep showing close ups of) but I hate him, Andrew. I hate him so much.

Oh look. Adrian Gonzalez is out. Oh look. In the top of the 8th. Awesome. <-sarcasm. That guy runs like a CHILD. Not A-Gonz. The Stank.

We ALL have things to look forward to tomorrow. Because, as Scarlet O’Hara said in everyone’s fourth favorite movie, Gone with the Wind, TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY.

And we will win TWO games.

Yes. We WILL.

Is that really Paul Simon? I have always loved Paul Simon. Until THIS MOMENT. The Boxer. The song that changed my life. IS DEAD TO ME.

I don’t think they realize how important this is, CK. Maybe they are sequestered. Like  a jury. Maybe Curt Young rips up their calendars and they still think it is May.

Oh. An out. What whimsy.

I wish this had waited for Monday when basketball-come-back-from-the-dead-guy is here to restrain me.

I think the sky IS on fire.

FIRE.

Curt Young should be FIRED.

Seriously. Are you getting these Michelin commercials? Because I am going to have nightmares. Serious ones.

Uhoh. Someone is in here that I know. Where do I know you from? Where? College, maybe? I don’t know. That’s right. waaalllkkkk to the other side of the bar. The OTHER side…

Michael Bowden. Oh.

Crap. This is the fourth time they have played this Nirvana song. I do NOT feel mellow.

Lars Andersen=EVERYONEHASGIVENUP.

We SHOULD just go watch Pawtuckett games next year. They’re cheaper.

Now they are playing Ska music. Which I am kind of digging. But I am so confused.

Even hope dies here. <- That’s a line from this play I wrapped called “Going to See the Elephant.”

I think it’s applicable.

You should learn her name. Girls like it when you know their names, I hear.

Oh, and don’t say you’re moving across the country and then just appear after three weeks with a paltry explanation.

I didn’t mean that. It’s the booze.

I am glad I didn’t hear Fox say that, just now.

Okay. So I threw a coaster. THERE ARE WORSE PROJECTILES.

Top of the ninth.

Whatever.

Thanks. Thanks, JACKSON. Thanks. REMIND ME TO TAKE YOU OFF MY CHRISTMAS CARD LIST. No. You know what? You’re still on my list. YOU ARE ON MY LIST. I’ll just go… nontraditional.

I think that guy lived in my college dorm, maybe. He gave me this quizzical, then familiar look. So, clearly, this is a guy who has seen me throw coasters before…

No. No. This isn’t. It’s not. This isn’t happening. It’s not. Okay? It’s just not. WE ARE NOT LOSING.

Alright. Fine. Just fine. Okay. Just let us win this one, and then… we’ll give you… let’s say ONE, in the ALCS championship, k? Just let us win this one, and we’ll give you that one. Do we have a deal?

WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO US? WHY? FUDGSICLE.

This is not. It is not…

I am so sad.

NO. WE ARE DOING THIS AGAIN. We are doing this again, damnit. We are playing tomorrow. And Tomorrow NIGHT. And WE WILL WIN. THAT IS WHAT WE WILL DO.

Seriously? Seriously?

You know who’s fault this is, right? THE RAIN.

And Theo Epstein. They were like, up to you. Do you want to play? And Theo’s like no… it’s rainy. We’ll melt.

WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT, THEO? It’s dry as a flipping dry bone on a dead thing in a dead desert and we DROWNED. WE DROWNED.

NO. NO. That could NOT have been worse. STOP DEFLECTING MY TORMENT WITH LOGIC.

No! NOTHING IS WELL DONE, ANDREW! NOTHING WILL BE WELL DONE AGAIN!

I don’t eat steak.

I am going to buy something. Like ice cream. And I will eat it with a fork and I will clean my apartment and I will WASH YOUR MEMORY OFF MY FLOORS.

Seriously. Mike was right. HOW do you do this? HOW? How do you… Why do you…

I DON’T KNOW. I DON’T KNOW.

Okay. It just took me like five minutes and flagging down a busboy to get my tab.

I HATE THIS PLACE.

I…

Basketball guy is coming Monday. MONDAY. So. Um. MONDAY.

And… And…

Sigh. I am going to the grocery store. Fear not. I can walk there.

I will catch you guys…

um. Later.

LATER.

Later.
SIGH.

Thanks for… for…

Well… thanks.

None of us should be alone today.

No. None of us should be alone today.

~L

AND I had to walk back in the Rain. IN THE RAIN.

WHY COULDN’T YOU HAVE DONE THIS A FEW HOURS AGO IN NEW YORK, SKY?????

Hate.

Categories: Drunken Live Blogging
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