Your daily injection! Braun’s still not talking about his syph-um… private medical issue. Oh. And Minka gets another gift basket.
Ryan Braun, stalked by TMZ AGAIN today… once AGAIN offers no explanation for his PED test…
See, as I reported last week, I could totally buy the “private medical issue” excuse- provided you give us a little more of an explanation.
I mean, if someone accuses me of something horrible and immoral… like… um… puppy murder. Or homeless sleeping bag stealing. Or, you know, steroids… I fess up my alibi. Even if my alibi is something less than Lauren-y. Like. Um. A Gossip Girl marathon over ice cream and regret. I mean, embarrassing is better than puppy murder or steroids, right?
Ryan Braun… is it syphilis? You can tell us. Christopher Columbus had that, you know. It’s Hep C, isn’t it? Leprosy?
We all know my opinion on the ‘roid issue. For new readers- I say exactly what David Ortiz has said-
“Ban ‘em for the whole year.”
Except I add a “forever.”
Give us SOMETHING, Ryan Braun. Apparently, there are people that look up to you. An excuse. Any excuse, really, would be better than the flaky attitude you’ve been flicking at us. There might be an explanation.
“I tell you, I don’t know too much about steroids, but I started listening about steroids when they started to bring that shit up, and I started realizing and getting to know a little bit about it. You’ve got to be careful. I used to buy a protein shake in my country. I don’t do that any more because they don’t have the approval for that here, so I know that, so I’m off of buying things at the GNC back in the Dominican (Republic). But it can happen anytime, it can happen. I don’t know. I don’t know if I drank something in my youth, not knowing it.”
You could say SOMETHING, Ryan Braun. Celebrities don’t get privacy, see. But you do get millions of dollars, hence the me-not-feeling-sorry-for-you.
Oh, Braun… that’s not a shadow following you around…
That’s an asterisk.
In other ridiculous roidy news- Alex Rodriguez is OFF THE MARKET.
Thank GOD, the market says. Until the market examines the catch. That catch is Torrie Wilson who, judging from the pictures, may share A-Roid’s juicing hobby. I don’t see this working out. I mean, what if they BOTH see a reflective surface? Staring at that window pane could waste a whole day, guys. Alex, it is such a newsy week for you.
Does anyone else think that A-Roid’s hookups will be a reality show some day?
There. Now, don’t we all feel dumber?
You’re welcome, America.
PS- Speaking of steroids- interesting position on Jeff Bagwell- read it HERE.
As a whole. I’m not talking about you. Why are you reading a Sox blog anyway?
Seriously. There is something wrong with them.
So. Um. I’m going to give you a minute to digest that.
I’ll be over here.
6:30 p.m.: T-minus one hour and counting… And I am definitely stopping by the liquor store on MY way home. Because tonight… horror of all horrors (crap. The PLEDGE) wonder of all wonders, we have the one, the only,
Tonight’s drink of choice is…
The John Lackey! A double shot of whatever cheap liquor is on sale.
See you in an hour. And please join me. I have pledged not to say anything bad about John Lackey. John Lackey is pitching. <– See the moral support I require?
Which Wich: I’m happy you opened a store in Boone. Really, I am. And my hummus sandwich with the crispy onions makes me quite happy. But your clientele? Questionable. Just saying.
A trip to the ABC, and I’ll be good to go…
“Lackey (8-8, 6.28 ERA) started the month of July with a putrid performance, allowing seven runs in 2 1/3 innings against the Blue Jays, but he’s steadily improved over his last three starts. Since July 9, he’s 3-0 with a 1.95 ERA, including an impressive seven-inning, one-run start against the Mariners in his last outing. Granted, the Mariners rank 30th in the majors in runs, batting average and on-base percentage, but the win brought Lackey’s record back to .500, a confidence boost for any pitcher.“
And. Okay. I did see THIS, when Lackey made a big deal about being willing to go in Monday night. That was cool. I GUESS.
In one way, the image of Lackey, who is on tap to take the mound Wednesday night, stretching in the dugout and then making his way out to the pen was not something the manager ever wanted to see. In another way, it was.
“That’s probably a side of guys that you guys don’t see, that we appreciate,” Francona added. “Probably why we defend guys, because that’s not at my urging. He’s running down there to help. We appreciate that.”
I can read between the lines. This is the internet telling us everything’s going to be okay.
You’re right, internet. We are going to be JUST fine. John Lackey is going to be JUST swell. Thanks, Internet.
A still of that clip is Jeb’s facebook profile picture.
6:50. Ready to play.
7:19. Okay. Um. I have been very quiet. Very quiet for about five minutes now. So quiet. Just watching. You know. Sitting here. On my couch. Watching you, John Lackey. The game is FIVE minutes in. And it is THREE TO ZERO Royals. Top of the FIRST. One out.
I just want YOU to know that I know, Lackey. I KNOW.
Base hit. Look at that. Third hit in the inning. Look at that. Are you looking at that, LACKEY? Just checking. Jussssst checking.
Oh, look. Line to right. Heading down the corner. Double for Brayan Pena. Look at that. Hi, LACKEY. Keeping my cool. Just like we pledged. See? Just. Like. We. Pledged. I’m sure this is ALLLLLLL part of your plan. Whip them into a false sense of security, right? Right?
29 pitches. 2 outs. and… oh, what’s that? TWO on base? Losing by what, THREE? Just checking.
I don’t know, America. Does THREE runs in an inning violate our pledge?
Time for another John Lackey. JL, you are so much more tolerable in shot form. 7:26.
Bruce Chen. Jacoby Ellsbury.
And… just as I’m about to say something snarky about John Lackey, Jacoby HITS ONE OUT OF THE PARK! Number 17 for Jacoby! 3-1! 3-1! And, thanks to Jacoby, the pledge is intact another minute.
Dustin Pedroia has to jump out of the way to avoid a crazy pitch from this Chen guy. Pedroia is riding a 23-game hitting streak. Kind of a big deal. Kind of something we need. When it’s the FIRST inning and you’re down by THREE. I didn’t say anything. Not a thing. But I am looking your way, Lackey.
HOMERUNNNNNNNN! And Pedroia extends his hitting streak. Oh, yes he does! 14th homer of the season. 3-2. John Lackey must be wetting himself. He needs to buy them beers or something. Because about ten minutes ago I was full of hate. And now I’m full of sunshine. Sunnysunnysunnysunshine.
Gonz is struck out. To a lot of booing, I might add.
Kevin Youkilis. Aka Youki-poo. Aka loveofmylife. Doing his bat dance. I am so glad to see you, Youkie. Alive. And uninjured. And alive.
Fire in their eyes tonight, see?
Ball four. First base for the Youkie-poo. With Ortiz snaking up to the plate.
Chen looks petrified. His eyes keep darting around, and he’s not just checking bases. He has these weird freckle things, see? 2-2, Papi’s giving the death glare. Full count. Death glare. Checking first. Death glare. Papi’s on fire with the glares. Let’s hope he can back it up with a punch. Not literally, David Ortiz. This isn’t an Oriole. He’s just a Royal.
A home run should suffice.
Strikes out? I’d like to see a replay of that, please. 2 outs. “He did not check a swing on that one but he was called out,” Jerry Remy says.
I’m watching you, Ump.
Saltysaltsalt up for some smacking. 5-game hitting streak. I’d be more impressed if HITTING WAS NOT YOUR JOB. Like, If it was me? Like, Lauren has a 5-game hitting streak- see, that’s impressive. Because I don’t have to hit anything. Ever. Ever at all. Except Pixie sticks (the candy. not the drug euphemism). It would be like saying Lauren is on a five-story streak. See, I am paid to write stories for the paper. Just like you are paid to hit balls for the Red Sox. I just … I just… not impressed with your five streak. I’m sorry.
That was rambly. Omen of rambles to come, no doubt. Hi, Salty. You adjust your gloves a lot. Yeah. It’s the gloves fault. Sure. Jacoby’s uniform is awfully clean in the dugout. Meanwhile, back in salty land, full count. Third consecutive three ball count for Bruce Chen, if you’re paying attention. I’m not. But Jerry Remy is. Strike out.
Wow. Two runs. We’d be 2-0. You know. If SOMEONE hadn’t allowed those three runs.
“John Lackey had kind of a guard on his elbow and the umpire asked him to take it off,” announcer said.
Maybe it was the sleeve that allowed the three runs. Not the Lackey. Thanks for watching out for us, Ump.
Grounder, thrown out. First out.
Ew. Lackey just spit. Ew. America saw that, Johnny.
Fair ball. Look at that. Second base. Look at that. Second double of the night for this guy. Hmmm. Second. What was that, Lackey? Second?
Staying calm. Staying cool. Just the second. Just Johnny being…
Running Gordon back and forth… got him out. Other guy safe at second. Okay. So we’ve got a guy on second. How did that happen? Oh, that’s right. He got a hit, Lackey. That’s what happened.
Butler at the bat. Lackey’s on pitch 39.
This is not a criticism/mockery/judgment… but what is John Lackey doing with his beard? Really?
In the dirt. Okay. I’m sure you were just keeping Salty on his toes. He’s on his toes, see? So you can just pitch now. Thanks. Oh. Another base hit. Oh. So, someone at first and third. 6 hits into the game for the Royals. Oh. Look at that.
Lackey. I think you need to reread the terms of our Pledge RIGHT NOW.
Ellsbury makes the catch. Lackey, you owe him balloon animals or something. I didn’t call you a clown just now. I called you a finely tuned rubber artist. Who is. Um. Full of hot air.
Bottom of the second. Scutaro leading off. Oh good.
Scut, I thought I told you I needed space. After Monday, I need time to rebuild the trust. You’re smothering me, already. How are we supposed to make this relationship work if you won’t listen to me?
Trust in what we have, Scut. Just trust in what we have and give me time.
Full count. Fulllllll count. A walk. Okay. A walk. Thanks, Scut. I appreciate the gesture.
Darnell McDonald. Another ball. Pitching coach and Pena to the mound to dry Chen’s ‘ittle tears. poor tike. Okay, Chen. You do not blow a bubble with your gum when your boss is talking to you.
Nice. Now we’ve got McD on first and Scut on Second. Nice.
LOVE it. Navarro. A pop that looked like they could get to it. But it drops about two feet away. Lovely. And We load the bases with no outs. Lackey, you better be cuddling that lucky blanket.
3 balls for Jacoby. With the bases loaded, I’d like to add. BALL FOUR. Walkin’ in the game tying run. You can open your eyes now, Lackey. It’s okay.
Bases STILL loaded. 3-3.
And Dustin Pedroia pops it out. But McD scores for a 4-3 lead.
Okay guys. I don’t want to say what leads me to this conclusion: But that’s not enough! Up your game, guys! Up your game. We’ve got runners on first and third and Gonz at the plate. And Jacoby steals second. That’s steal 29 for those playing at home.
Out, but with room to score in a run. Thanks, Gonz. 5-3.
Still not enough guys! Pump them out.
Youkie at the plate. Caught pop. But that’s okay. Because it’s 5-3. I kind of wish Lackey hadn’t seen that. I kind of wish he thought we were still 3-0. Because now he’s all, “I’ve got a cushion.”
But chairs come with cushions.
That was deep. Think about it. You’ll see. That was so deep.
Catch. Catch. Two outs. Top of the third. Nice.
Beltran may be headed to the Giants? Whatever. We didn’t really want you. Your name doesn’t rhyme with anything.
And three. Three outs. Okay, Lackey. Okay.
Ortiz. Strike One. Ortiz. Ball one. Chen, it’s going to be okay. It’s just one game.
Pop catch. David Ortiz looks frustrated. Give that one to Chen, Papi. We don’t want tears on the mound.
Salty pops up. And Another out. One, two three. Just like Lackey. Blah.
Top of the fourth. 1, 2, 3. Yes. Out, out, out. Okay, Lackey. Okay.
McDonald on 2nd. In a neat failed dive catch by the Royals. Neat.
Us! Us! Us! And I’m distracted by people. I’m so popular, you know. So popular.
Okay. a REALLY weird out call on a Jacoby steal. We’re at 2 outs. And Youkie-poo is at the plate. Being all Youkilicious with the bat dance. Ground, leftside! Through the glove! Base hit! Bases are loaded.
And three people is an island you don’t want to strand. Right, Papi? Pooooooooor Chen. Bottom of the 4th and they are already warming someone up. Outside pitch. Three more of those is a walk on run, Chen, dear.
Ball THREE. One strike. Ball THREE. Anddddddddddd… In the air, right field… and….. GRANDFRICKINGSLAM.
Oh, pretty. And Lackey grins. You better grin. You better buy David Ortiz an egg roll or something. Because he has saved you.
1,000th CAREER RBI for Papi! A grand slam. I think I just teared up. Remember two years ago when they (you know, they) were allll Papi’s finished? Remember that? And I said to you, Papi… I said, if you can break your crap streak, if you can break it, I will name my puppy after you. I was at Midtown Tavern in Charlotte. With Eric. And when I got home, Elliot’s name was Elliot May Precious Ortiz. Oh… Oh… oh…
I love him so. 10-3 SOX, baby. Salty’s out. But no one noticed. They are too busy grinning at our Papi.
I’m walking Ortiz’ name puppy while I’m on a high. Don’t let Lackey ruin it while I’m gone.
Okay. I was gone six minutes. SIX minutes. And is 10 to 4. And one person is on second. I knew this would happen. Lackey makes a 7 point lead look iffy.
And he walks someone on first. Awesome.
90th pitch for Lackey. Is a ball. Of course it is. Curt Young, you watching this? Lackey, if you blow this lead, I swear to Fisk I will…
I haven’t broken the pledge yet. No. I haven’t. Damnit.
To left field. And a base hit.
AND the bases are loaded. ARE YOU WATCHING THIS, CURT YOUNG?
Okay, Lackey. Okay. You are trying my patience and my keyboard. You let ONE of those batters hit home and we are done. Do you hear me? DONE. The pledge will be null and void and I will mock you like you have never been mocked before. MOCKERY. Randy Williams is warming up. Of course. The one that cost us the fifty bazillion inning game the other day. Yes, that seems smart.
Chris Getz at the plate. If he gets a grand slam, our 10-3, I’m sorry, 10-FOUR lead will be 10-8. 10-8! Do. NOT. Let. That. Happen.
And it’s the fricking ROYALS, Lackey. Seriously. The ROYALS. They are from Kansas. KANSAS. And I know a lot about Kansas. I’ve watched Wizard of Oz. So I know there’s wheat there. And no color. Oh, and people that hate dogs. Does that sound like a team YOU want to lose to, Lackey?
And Salty makes the catch… saving your ASS, Lackey. We’re cool. Really we are. But I do NOT want to see you in the 5th inning. Hear that, Curt?
Jeb, dear. Which Wich is a smarmy new sandwich place where that healthy grocery store used to be near Boone Mall? Winkler’s Creek, maybe. But apparently Cano and Jeter eat there. That’s what the wall says.
Marco Scutaro. We’re on better terms now that I have another focus for my negative energy (LACKEY). Well, we were on better terms before you just got that out.
Okay. You know what? I thought I could do it. I did. I thought I could be mature about this and look at the score numbers and…
Oh, look. Heidi Watney. Talking to Jed Lowrie.
“I continue to push it every day. If I didn’t get that feeling I would think I didn’t get enough work in that day.”
Oh, Jed. You DL addict.
That’s it. I can’t hold this inside of me anymore. I feel like the Hulk. I feel like James Dean in Rebel without a Cause.
YOU’RE TEARING ME APART.
It’s YOU. YOU, John Lackey. I take it back. I rip the pledge up. I am ripping… the pledge up… and now I have a paper cut. I have a PAPER CUT. THIS IS YOUR FAULT. YOUR Fault. YOUR FAULT you Napolen Dynamite-esque jaw of inappropriate proportions. You sullen-faced attitude crapping, base loading excuse for mediocrity. I can NOT believe I ever-
Out number one?
What? You’re. Um. Not sucking?
Wait a mite… maybe…. could it be… could my public ridicule be… no…
Pop out. Two outs.
Could it be helping you? Every time I call you a name, like a wormy-slackfaced excuse for a Bond villain… you do… well?
Base hit. Well, blows that theory.
You’re just slime.
I would like to give Lackey to the Pirates. Here. Take him. He will be your booty. FDA, I’m going to need some help. His ego’s so huge.. I just… can’t… lift… him…
Jup! It’s so good to see you, Jup. Did you see that? Did you see what that sloth almost did to our 7 point lead? Did you?
Seriously. That fifth inning… by the grace of god and…
BASE HIT? Frick on a frick stick. One on first and third. I’m typing that out in case you can’t see that from your vantage point, Curt Young.
YESSSSSS Tito going to the mound. YESSSSSSS. Send that sloth to Pittsburgh! The dugout will do for now.
OhnoRandyWilliams. Ohno. Monday. No. We must not think of Monday. It’s a new day. A new day. With liquor. And cookies. Crap. I’m out of cookies. Have you ever had Paul Newman-Os? No? They’re Newmanneriffic. Randy Williams, I wish you were Daniel Bard.
Ends the inning. Pedroia does. Yes he does. Why do we call him the muddy chicken? I never figured that one out.
Jacoby Ellsbury. Double off the fricking wall. 10 to fricking 4. To fricking four. With Jacoby on second. Which means Jacoby will soon be on third. Which means… we’ve got this, Soxies.
Of course, that means Lackey’s also “got this.”
I can see it now. Can’t you?
Smug chin. Shrugs it off. Saying, see how bad ass we were tonight? We. WE.
Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. You still make my neck knot.
And base hit! base hit!
The Offense.The Offense. The Offense’s on fire. And we don’t need no water let the motherf…
Right. Blogging. Baseball. Tequilla. Shot thirty. Excuse me.
David Ortiz! Stop spitting! America is watching.
Gonz! Base hit! Score! Score! Jacoby! Run, Jacoby! Score. You do! You do! 11-4. 11-4!!!!!!!!! Zero outs. First and second. Zero outs! And… from the mist… baseball dirt, rising like fog from a mountain… steps the mighty… the fearless… the furious… the sexy… KEVIN YOUKILIS! And the crowd moans Yoooooouuuuukkkkk and it sounds like booing. But it’s not booing. It’s Yoooouuuuukkkkkiiinnnngggg. And he shrugs it off, like a noble warrior. Like a noble viking warrior. Like um… viking. Some of them were noble. They had Cool helmets sometimes.
Oh. Fail. Double play. Fail. Oh.
And. Like a noble warrior. He collapses. Gracefully. In the depths of the….
Damn it, Youk. Damn.
First base. You are on first base. And that is enough for me. You are enough for me. Hold me close and don’t let me go. Shot thirty again. Hi, Papi.
Inning ends. But that’s okay. Because we got to see another replay of your grand slam.
Okay. Observations. This is the Royals. This is not the Yankees. This is not Cleveland. This is Kansas Fricking City. This is Chen. Easy trumped by power bats. What if this was the Yankees? What if this was some badass like Cliff Lee? And Lackey pulled this shit? What if, instead of catching that ball when Lackey loaded up the bases, Salty dropped it? An ordinary error? What if-what if-what if? And, see, soon, we won’t be playing piddly teams like the Brewers and the Royals and the god awful Orioles. Soon, we’ll be playing actual teams. We’ll be playing October teams. And I don’t want to see what Lackey will do.
How many others must the paper cut?!
It’s like politics. And the economy. And the stock market. It’s all like that.
That’s called a stretched metaphor, for those of you playing at home.
Dan Wheeler. Warming up. Good. See, I’d rather see you than Mr. Let’s-allow-the-doubles. That’s your name, Williams.
Top of the 7th. Monday on my mind. Wincing as he hurls the rocks. Strike one. But it’s three and one, see. Three and fricking one. Is it just me, or did they get louder?
Ball four. Moustakas. REALLY. Of course. Seeing this, Curt, baby? Watching this?
I get it. Put the annoyingly frustrating players out this game so you can save people like Bard and the Beckster for Soxtober. Nice strategy. Stressful, but nice strategy.
Brayan Pena. NOBODY OUT. Until now. When Pedroia catches you, Pena. But runners on first and second.
McD makes the catch. Second out. Randy Williams, you need to get better. Just saying.
Alcides Escobar. I want to date someone with your name so I can say it quickly. But I do not want to date you. Because your team is annoying me. But you do have a lot of money. So there’s that. Okay. I’d go out with you if you asked nicely, bought me things and didn’t tell Youkilis.
In the air to left field… McD catches … and you are out. Call me!
Okay. I feel so much better. After another John Lackey, the drink…
I miss Reddick. Who, according to THIS article, saved us much cash today.
BASE HIT, SALTY! Loverly. Just like the song form My Fair Lady.
All I want is a win today.
It’s not enough, just to play.
With your enormous name…
Oh thank you… Saltalamacchia…
It’s to the tune of “Loverly,” if you’re playing at home. I’m very talented.
Popped up. Whatev.
Oh, Heidi Watney.
“there was a controversial end to the Braves-Pirates game… he was clearly out….”
Oh, that’s you, Jeb!
Apparently, it’s sparking talk of instant replay… And she asks Ortiz.
“You know already post season because of tv and everything they’re already too long… so just make the effort and try to stay on top of the game… You don’t say that many plays like the play last night between the Braves and Pirates… he’s a human being,” Ortiz said of the ump.
See, Jeb? He’s a HUMAN BEING. Treat him with dignity! And hugs! After all, it’s only baseball Jeb. It’s just a game… and I’m sure he’s very sorry.
Terry Francona has an idea to have a fifth umpire in a booth up top.
“And you rotate them like you rotate guys in the field,” announcer said.
Navarro strikes out. But that’s okay. Because it’s still 11-4.
Top of the 8th. And Randy Williams back on the mound. I see Curt’s point. Curt’s like, ‘why not?’ Let the pup have his day.
In the air… Ellsbury can’t make the catch. A long double. Third double of the night. They’ll call him the Doubler, they will. And our eyes will roll. Poor little kid at the wall. He really thought he had that. The kid, not Jacoby. I think Jacoby figured it out.
FDA is going to be at the game tomorrow. She promised to stalk Kevin Youkilis for me. I mean us. I hope that means acting as my go-between for the great love affair we will soon start.
Tito comes out. And Wheeler has a turn. Sit down, Williams.
Royal Reunion is a movie that MLB.TV has decided to preview. Hah. They also had a Royal Caribbean commercial. Noticing a pattern?
One out. 8th inning. Dan Wheeler.
I hope to see a lot of players I’ve never heard of at the bottom of the 8th. That always makes me feel better.
So, Soxies. How are you? You good? Thought I should check in. 11-4ness gives me some time to check in on YOUR needs.
Wheeler strikes out. B2B strike outs. It’s like he read the wikipedia article on how to pitch or something. Could you print that out and post it in the bullpen?
Two outs. Two outs. Two outs. I can chant here too, guys.
Damnit. The throw gets away. Run is in. 11-5.
This is your fault too, Lackey.
You know what? You don’t like it, e-mail me, firstname.lastname@example.org.
Felipe Paulino warming in the pen for KC. Jeff Francoeur. Whose name I love. But whose bat gives me hives…
Sexy catch. OUTTTTTT.
Bottom of the 8.
Okay. You know what? We’re winning. Right? Right.
I should stop bashing Lackey. I should save it for the losses, right?
The losses we will inevitably have if we don’t figure out the Lackey situation…
Am I too harsh? I’m too harsh.
Okay. I’ll see what I can do about that pledge. but I really ripped it up. Maybe some scotch tape? And another shot. That will fixxxxx everrrrrryyyythinggg….
Yesss! Error throw gets Jacoby (our MVP candidate, I say) on first.
11th straight Sox game, btw, with at least 10 hits. Neato.
Hi, Pedroia. On the ground right side, throws out Pedroia. One out. Ellsbury takes third. A-Gonz who, shockingly, seems to be hitting the LEAST right now, takes the plate.
He’s 2 for 4 tonight with singles. Crazy close foul right now. If only this were horseshoes.
I like having Jacoby on third. Reminds of that Pettitte game. Ahhhhh memories. That’s a song from Cats. Memories….
In the air to left… back… OFF THE TOP OF THE WALL! Ellsbury scores. Gonz is out at second? Really? 12-5.
“This had to miss being a homerun by inches,” Remy said.
If only this were horseshoes, I say again. The game, not the crabs.
12-5… 10″08 p.m. Line drive down the right field line… foul.
Swing and a miss for Reddick. Strikes out.
Headin’ to the 9th. Feelin’ groovy.
Just read your comment. Don’t you worry about it Jeb. Lackey’s free. We don’t need anything from you. He’s going to be part of a surprise fruit basket, tucked between the cantaloupes. And we’re going to be out of there so quickly you won’t even be able to find the WSJ article. Your mouth will be full of grapes and then you’ll see Lackey, and you’ll be like, “oh shit,” but you won’t be able to say anything, it will come out like, “ohmfffft” because your mouth will be full of grapes. They’ll be really good grapes, though.
Two outs. Back to back in the 9th. This game’s MVP is going to be a toss up between Jacoby and David Ortiz. Oh, and Lackey. Wait. That was a joke.
I love this part. Where people stand and rally the win.
Well, not this part, where the ball goes into the dirt.
Come on, Wheeler. Can you hear my stomping from Boston? I bet my new neighbors can hear my stomping.
Base hit. Yeah. That’s not what the stomping was for. Let’s try that again. Strike one. Outside. One and one.
The last batter always takes the longest.
Come on, Wheeler! Come on!!!!!!!!!
On the ground. Thrown out to first! What? Safe? What? Fricktastic. Frick-frick-frick-frick-fricking-frick. Crap. Okay. That looked fair to me. Fair. Whatever. First and second runners.
This is wayyyyy too complicated for a 7 run lead.
Just go quietly.
It’s like the last scene in a movie where the villain (that’s us) tells the victim (always a girl) that it’s over. No one can hear your scream, little girl. So why fight it? I’ll make your death quick.
Of course, we’re not villains. So we’re not actually going to kill you by tying you to some train tracks. We shall show mercy and beat you at baseball.
Swing and a miss…. two and two. Gordon. The baseball player. Not the fisherman. Fenway rises to its feet. Love. It. North Carolina’s Fenway (in my townhouse) is doing the same thing. Except for the puppy. She isn’t sure what to do. She looks very confused.
Popped up. Foul ground… Navarro …. overruns the fricking ball.
For frick’s sake, people.
STRIKE OUT. 10:20.
And the Red Sox win.
That was way too complicated.
John Lackey, You did NOT do this.
Did you see how close Heidi Watney just got to David Ortiz? Why can’t I have her job? Can you make that happen? I used to be on television, after all. And being a news anchor is just like being Heidi Watney. Except I would get to stand more often. I would totally come out of television retirement for her job. I am going to sleep.
Thoughts? Have we been too hasty writing off Lackey? Do you think he did a good job? Do you think he will do a good job? Do you feel sorry for the Pirates, or are you just bemused? Oh, and are Newman-Os better than Oreos? These questions and more can be answered in the comments section. I look forward to reading what you have to say.
Jeter will not be making an appearance tonight. Sorry, five-year-old Yankees fan whose father let you press the mouse button for the first time… just so you could vote on your pinstriped hero. You can’t even pronounce his name correctly yet, can you? I see it now… tearful lip quiver… dad-assisted mouse click… “Thissun’s fuh you, Deyawick Jeeetah!”
Alas, little Bobby, your vote doesn’t count. It’s like a real vote, except much, much more ridiculous. See, your hero? He’s not playing in the All-Star Game… no matter how many times Daddy lets you click the mouse.
Derek Jeter doesn’t feel like it.
He’s not injured.
He wasn’t yanked from the line up for improper footwear. No, Jeter and Roidriguez aren’t shooting up by the urinal.
“I think it’s too bad that Jeter in particular is not here,” National League Pres Bill Giles said, “because of what he accomplished over the weekend. I think it is a bit of a problem and baseball should study it.”
See, Derek, I don’t know if they teach you this in the pinstripe club, but the All-Star game? It’s not about you. It’s about the thousands of fans who, God knows why, voted for you. Clicked on your picture, Derek. Is it so hard to pop your head out of the dugout tonight and say “hi?” Have a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T.
He’s just too “exhausted” after the physical and mental (you kidding me?) stress of hitting number 3,000.
See, Derek. The reason you GOT to number 3,000? It wasn’t the Stankee organization. And it sure as hell wasn’t your audience-planted speed gun. It was the fans. The fans like that five-year-old wearing a Jeter onesie and clicking your picture on the All-Star ballot. Way to diss them. Aren’t you supposed to be Mr. Congeniality?
It’s okay, little 5-year-old Stank fan. Red Sox Nation has room for you. You can sit next to me.
See… I don’t really care about the All-Star game. Because it’s not MY job. But you best believe when advertiser banquets happen at my publishing company, I’m there with a Vaseline smile.
Bud Selig’s got your back, Jeter. Don’t know if I’d brag about that…
I STILL WANT TO KNOW what you would have done with that 3K ball. Keep the comments coming.
PS- Don’t blame 5-year-old Bobby. Blame 5-year-old Bobby’s parents.
Oh, Papi… who DOESN’T love you? Oh. Right. Oops. Forgot.
“Derek has been here so many times and has been so great for the game, for people to be upset with Derek Jeter, they should be embracing what he just did,” Youkilis said. “This could be a good time for him to appreciate and celebrate with his family, because there’s not a lot of time for that.”
Damnit, Youkie-poo! Stay out of this.
I stand by the headline. It’s the ORIOLES, people. Don’t get too excited.
Speaking of inflated excitement, WHATEVER, Derek Jeter.
That is all.
Jon Lester. 15-day disabled list.
John Lackey. On another kind of DL.
The DENIAL List.
And no. I’m not talking about a river in Egypt.
But who is in greater denial? John Lackey, who has an ERA of OVER 7.4, allows 7 runs in like three innings AND then says things like ““Overall, my arm felt pretty good?”
Or Theo Epstein, for STILL holding on to his $85 mill investment? An investment that is making the 2008 economic collapse look like a checking error.
Despite BUZZ to the contrary, he’s still around. Or maybe we’ve just ALLLLLL got our JLs mixed up. JOHN LACKEY, God. NOT JON LESTER.
Perhaps we should have all been more clear. That’s the last time I close my eyes and wish with initials alone.
“Maybe,” coworker-who-barely-knows-what-baseball-is says, to stop me from continuing ANOTHER John Lackey rant, “This Ted Epstein doesn’t have cable.”
I don’t have cable.
“Maybe,” exasperated coworker says, “He’s not as tech savvy as you with the internets.” (yes, we say the internets, plural, in THIS office)
He makes like, a BAZILLION dollars.
“Maybe,” dead-inside-coworker says, “He has better things to do than fire pitchers.”
He makes like, a BAZILLION dollars to do this.
“Maybe,” bleary-eyed coworker says, “You should save this for your blog.”
But, I already blogged about John Lackey. Like… ALL THE TIME.
And then he told me to shut up. Me. I know. The nerve of SOME PEOPLE.
PS- MORE STEROID NEWS. Awesome. They should call today WednesROIDday.
Alex Rodriguez’ doctor pleaded guilty today in federal court for… *drum roll* bringing drugs from Canada… including *another drum roll* HUMAN GROWTH HORMONE!
Awesome. Thanks, guys. For CONTINUALLY throwing the juice in America’s face.
Other athletes on…
the DENIAL List:
Johnny Damon (I’m still relevant! Hall of Fame, hear I come!)
Andy Pettitte (Roger is my BEST friend)
Derek Jeter (I’m still in the game!)
Jason Giambi (Wow, people sooooooo care about what I have to say)
Coco Crisp (This hairstyle is a GREAT look for me!)
Tiger Woods (I can change!)
Dale Earnhardt Jr (It’s a real sport. Really.)
The US Women’s Soccer Team (People are sooooo watching us on television right now. Sad but true, people. )
Maxim Lapierre (Je suis étonnant!)
Dirk Nowitzki (I have normal arms. Really. You guyyyssssss)
Jorge Posada (I could totally play another five years)
Manny Ramirez (This will ALLLL blow over)
Alex Rodriguez (They ALLLLL want to be my girlfriend)
The Cubs (It will happen our lifetime, guys!)
Got anymore? I’m trying to compile an official list. Then I’ll move onto actors. That means you, Nicholas Cage!
While we wait on this dang-blasted rain (that’s what they say in North Carolina. I prefer downpour of torrential irritation), let’s reflect on the best news of the day:
Quick, cue the parade!
“I fully expect he’ll be hitting second tomorrow,” Francona said.
Pedroia took the train back (with Jenks, also on the DL! I have a much different reaction to that tidbit) and got all checked out. And he’s fine. Thanks be to Fisk. Because news earlier today said he could be out for a month. Pedroia says its his leg that has caused his hitting slump. What do you do to fix a bone bruise, anyway? Oh. Ouch.
“Bruised bones are extremely painful and, unfortunately, the pain lasts and lasts.”
“Scientists investigate the possibility that bone bruises are predecessors of future problems.”
Okay. Research is depressing.
So. Let’s cease.
Did you know Pedroia is afraid of flying? Me too. That means we’re soul-friends. (Soul-mate is still K-Youk. Ah… K-Youk…)
Another fun fact- did you know Joba’s out?
And, if you enjoy the Stankee rivalry, you’ll enjoy this article about what happens when a “Yankee cast-off” hits New York. Nice review of last night’s pounding if you missed it: “On Wednesday night, the Yankees got a taste of what they let go. “
“It doesn’t matter which team we play,” Aceves said on Thursday, in Spanish, when asked about facing his former team in the Bronx with the crowd yelling for the Yankees to rally.
“We just want to win against every team. There isn’t a particular enemy.”
Oh, Alfredo. You are fricking adorable.
Now if only Salty would get better…
Okay, rain. You done yet? We’ve got some Stankees to sweep.
PS- New York, thanks for your hospitality. In honor of you, I am including a YouTube video of NYC from Annie. In my imagination, it’s being performed by Derek Jeter and Nick Swisher. But you’re not in my imagination. I still think you’ll see the resemblance.
PSS- If you’re looking for a good live blog- I found one that’s just as annoyed by the rain as I am. That blog will be fun to read if we complete the sweep…
10:48. Okay. It is too late. The governor is coming tomorrow. I have to tour a new ASU facility. I have to finalize Sunday centerpiece. I have things to do.
I am not going to watch this whole game.
I am not.
But damnit, Josh Beckett! Did you not hear the GREAT THINGS I said about you? Don’t, don’t, don’t let me down.
Do you want to SHARE the top with the Stanks, Josh? Because it gets awfully crowded up there.
11:05. Did you know the guitar strings on today’s version of Google make noise? Seriously. Go to google.com right now. FDA showed me this and now I can’t stop. I can play Silent Night. And part of the Beauty and the Beast theme song. Angela Lansbury would be so pleased.
Right. The game.
I’m watching. I’m watching. Geez.
11 p.m. So, found a live pro-Yank blog. Would be more fun to read if, you know, we were winning. Pro-Yank blog hopes A-Gonz gets hit with a pitch.
I hope Derek Jeter swings so hard his arm falls off.
11:08. Does C.C. remind anyone else of Baloo from the Jungle Book?
You know, but evil?
11:13. Fading fast.
I have reeeeaaalllly got to go to sleep. Think you kids can handle this? You know, without the Carolina cheerleader? Because I have to get up so early…
FDA, I’m leaving you in charge. Don’t let them lose. I mean it, FDA.
11:15. Someone seems to have a litttttle problem defining the STRIKE ZONE.
Damnit, FDA. Part of being in charge is yelling at the Umpire. Loudly. Do it.
11:17. You know. Life is a lot like a Disney movie.
11:18. I am really glad I found my airport bottle stash. That will keep me awake. For at least a hot minute.
The things people blog about!
Go Posada yourself.
11:22. This is going to be a looooooooooong game. Google string thingy is so much more fun than this game.
11:23. Yeah. Sleep. Now.
Do it for the Bruins. They need your inspiration.
11:25. Cervelli, your name sounds like a bacterium.
11:27. Okay. NOW I’m asleep.
11:28. Well, clearly not NOW. One can’t be asleep when one is saying that one is asleep.
11:29. You get my point, right? I can sleep now?
11:30. I canNOT sleep when Curtis Grandersnot is at the plate. Blah.
J-Beck. Please do not let Grandersnot on a base. Please?
Or walk him. Sure. Yeah. Okay.
Time to get mad, Beckster. Time to get mad. Let’s see anger-face. No. Not that. That is NOT anger.
11:35. Okay. I want to hit Alex Rodriguez with a pitch as much as you do, Beckett, but loading the bases… that’s a bit much, don’t you think? Is this one of your show-off moments were you load them up then slam them down?
11:37. Oh, thank you. You really had me going, Beckett. I never doubted you. Never. You know. Except that one time in the first inning when you handed Curtis Grandersnot a homerun on a silver fricking platter. You know, that time.
11:41. The. God. Of. Walks.
You know. And awesomeness.
11:44. You hit Papi with a pitch and it is on. Remember this, Stanks. You have been warned.
Bottom of the fourth. Really sleeping. So. Um. When I wake up. This will be fixed. Better. Yes.
8:05 a.m. And THAT, ladies and gents, is how I like to start my day.
PS- That live Yankees blog is a dead link this morning… shame…
.500. On the money.
Was that so hard?
I think it’s poetic, really, that countless teams (well, I s’pose they’re countable), numerous teams (four is numerous) have foiled our chances for sweet .500 mediocrity and we get there by sweeping the Stanks.
20-20. It’s not just good eyesight. It’s good teamwork. Just ask Papi.
“That’s what people expect us to do,” said David Ortiz, who hit a broken-bat homer to Yankee Stadium’s short porch in right and was a triple short of the cycle. “When you combine good hitting with good pitching, that’s what you’re supposed to get, right?”
There were a couple scary things. You know, like Crawford’s mad error that allowed he-whose-name-shall-be-said-with-gritted-teeth (GRANDERSON) a moment. But let’s not concentrate on that. That thought is for losers. We are no longer losers. We are… um… mediocritics. <- Is that a word? What do you call someone who isn’t a loser but isn’t a winner? Anne Hathaway?
We are the Anne Hathaways of baseball.
But we shouldn’t get TOO excited of our Princess Diaries status, says my husband.
“I just got a fastball, inner half, and was fortunate to get a good piece of it,” Youkilis said. “If we pitch the ball, well we’re going to score runs. … We’ve come a long way since 0-6, but we’ve still got a lot of work to do and still got a lot of season to play.”
A lot of work to do.
More on the Jorge Posada soap opera. You know, the one where he did a hair (um, ear?) toss and said, “I can’t work like this,” before stomping off in his heels…
Jeter is defending Posada, basically saying, if he needs a day, give the poor, neckless has-been a day.
This should surprise NO ONE. As far as has-beens go, Jeter’s about there. Throwing his support to the others in the HB club? Good PR move, Jeter.
Screw Yankees puns, let’s think of more Posada jokes! ASAP. Get on it, SportsAttitudes.