What a ridiculous news day.
In a move that has this song in my head all day-
-Ben Cherington adopted a child for us. His name is Daniel McGrath and he’s 17. And now the Red Sox are his daddy.
Daniel McGrath. Hmmm. It’s the 5th highest $$$ signing out of the 435 Aussies signed to play. Don’t worry. He’ll “complete year 12” before Soxing it to spring training next year. And, hey, maybe the beer store will start carding. So, there’s that.
Maybe that’s Benny’s plan. Import people who CAN’T buy beer for the clubhouse.
It doesn’t say how he got his super powers… but I think we all know where that 150 km/hr fastball pitch REALLY came from.
Do you think he’ll introduce us to Gary Busey?
In other news, Trot Nixon is heading this Hall of Fame class… but the REAL news is that he went to New Hanover High School in Wilmington. Did YOU know that? I’ve been there like, a bazillion times. It’s the high school that every movie/tv show uses when they film in North Carolina- a high school I became acquainted with during my actor days. And, apparently, Trot Nixon could have been in the same town. You’d think that someone would have told me.
Oh! Oh! Oh! But there’s more news!
Giving us yet another reason to roll our eyes at New York, Mayor Bloomberg called Boston “Loserville.” Really. Mr. Bloomberg, do you know what comeuppins are? Because they’re comeuppining in April. Loserville? Really? Tim Thomas? Are you going to stand for that? I’ll be checking Facebok later for your statement.
I will remember this, Mr. Bloomberg, and I will rub your snotty little New York nose in it on behalf of all New England (just don’t cry again, Tom Brady) in April. Seriously, footballians, stop crying. How many rings does New England have? Honestly. You’d think you were Michelle Kwan. And a silver medal isn’t THAT bad.
And stop. STOP. Pulling baseball fans into your web of depression with whiny reminders like:
If only Wes Welker caught the ball. If he had, the city of Boston would still be sweeping up the confetti and Tom Brady would be resting comfortably in the pantheon of football greats. We’d still think Giselle Bundchen was charming and we’d be practicing dance moves to imitate Rob Gronkowski’s postgame partying. Eric Wilbur would be living a peaceful life.
Sound familiar? Sure does. In fact, it sounds a lot like last September.
SHUT. UP. Seriously, New England. You WON the Sandwich Monday Contest. Who NEEDS the Super Bowl?
Arbitration has been scheduled for Papi. Here’s to hoping it’s quick and painless!
I’m not the only one, btw, who rolled my eyes at Dan Shaughnessy yesterday. Our friends at Fenway West also voiced their whatevers at ya, Dan.
Speaking of rolling our eyes, the Roy Oswalt drama continues. And my eyes? They’re still rolling. You’d think they’d get tired.
So, kiddies, what do you think? Teenagers. Papi. Roy Oswalt. I’d like to hear your thoughts of the whole mess that is the Red Sox offseason.
What a beautiful day in Boone, North Carolina! The sun, Soxies, is shining. The temperature is NOT freezing. The mood? Chipper. That’s right. CHIPPER. All, my dears, is right with the world.
And the internet is complimenting my day. The internet NEVER does that.
See, in honor of the Super Bowl, Time Magazine recreated great New York vs Boston moments…
Like the 2004 ALCS!
It’s like Time Magazine said to itself, “how can we make Lauren’s already spectacular morning even more spectacular? Why, with a double dose of 2004 miraculousness.”
The Sox didn’t need extra-innings to win game six but rather starting pitcher Curt Schilling bravely playing through the pain of a torn tendon sheath to pitch the Sox to victory (it would forever be known as the bloody sock game). By now the Yankees were reeling and with Johnny Damon hitting a grand slam early on in the winner-take-all game seven, New York couldn’t recover and arguably the greatest choke in sports history was complete. The Sox became the first team in MLB history to lose the first three games and win a seven-match series. They didn’t lose another game, sweeping the St. Louis Cardinals in the World Series to finally end the 86 year-long curse.
So, see, Oswalt, I no longer give a frick what you do. Go ahead and meet with the fricking Rangers. It is of little consequence today.
And Delcarmen, I LOVE that you’re the Stank’s problem now. Good for you. Have fun.
And sure, Ben Cherington. Tell the world that our rotation is game ready. Go ahead.
Not even your extreme denial can bring me down today.
Because there are birds today, people. Birds. And they are singing and not shitting all over metaphorical cars. You know. Like hopes and dreams.
The shithawks? Not hovering around MY head.
Life is good.
PS- Are you my Twitter friend yet? Because you should be.
J.D. Drew is “probably” retiring, reports today indicate. Despite the mad flurry of Drew-hate peppering the nation over the past two years, I’ve never had a huge problem with you, J.D. I find your breakability irritating. I find your inconsistency mind-numbing (but attribute it to your breakability). But I remember the real you, J.D. I can still remember your home run pops and that cool indifferent reaction to your own badassishness. You’ll finish your career with a respectable 242 homers and my respect, sir.
You were very, very expensive. I mean. I don’t want to nitpick. But you were very. VERY. Expensive. I loved you in 2007. But I loved everyone in 2007 (mostly). I mean, you’re no Kevin Youkilis, J.D. Drew, but you can afford a Kevin Youkilis beard implant, if you want. I mean, you did average like, $8 million a year for 14 years. That’s even more impressive than those 242 homers. I hope you can use your retirement to… I don’t know… take vitamins or something.
In addition to the hefty salary, Drew’s inability to stay completely healthy contributed to the stigma that he was overrated. He never appeared in more than 146 games in a season and averaged just 470 plate appearances per campaign from 1999-2011.
But, in the words of Marc Antony, I come to honor you. Not pick you apart flaw by expensive flaw. But I think you need to retire. I think you need to retire. And up those fricking Flintstones because every time you break, angels cry.
In “whatever” retirement news, Jorge Posada officially announced his retirement today.
I am devastated. Really.
Just when my Posada verb was catching on.
Just when people were starting to say “Go Posada yourself” when they were cut off in traffic.
Just when “I don’t give a Posada whether you take my lunch money. You’ll never take my self respect,” was the new “it” phrase to thwack bullies with…
“I could never wear another uniform,” Posada said at a televised Yankee Stadium news conference.
Literally. Didn’t you… um… try? And then have absolutely no success? Because no other uniforms would take you? You really Posada-ed yourself with that temper tantrum over the summer, mate.
Our very own Jason Varitek (possibly the next name on the plaque in front of the old folks retirement home) even had a comment. But he’s old too. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.
“After hundreds of head-to-head games during the regular season and the postseason, I can’t say I respect and admire anyone at our position more than I do Jorge. The hard work and preparation he put into catching is a huge reason he has five championships on his resume. He is a true grinder.”
As for the Tek (we alllllll know my Tek obsession. I won’t give you a double dose)-
It seems to me that dragging this out is helping no one, guys. He’s the captain. Show him a little more respect than arbitrary offers. Get real or get him coaching. ASAP.
I’m 27. And I’ll retire at age like, 97 at this rate.
Wow. That’s depressing.
I need a moment, guys…
And if you have a comment on ANYTHING you see here today, feel free to shoot me a buzz at firstname.lastname@example.org. I LOVE e-mails. Like LOVE e-mails more than Posada loves his rings.
Side note- $214 million? NINE years? Um. Okay. I don’t want Prince Fielder anymore. Um.
To clarify: I LOVE Chaz Bono. Really. I saw Chaz in NY when Chaz was Chastity and was irrationally excited and my irrational excitement alienated my peers. I took a cell phone picture. I hate Roger Clemens. If I saw him, I would take a cell phone picture, but only so I could post it here and say, “I hate you, Roger Clemens” and have a good visual aid.
The Roger Clemens drama continues. *insert Law and Order soundbite*
A fricking mistrial. Why? Because the prosecutors made a rookie mistake and didn’t follow simple directions.
Really. Click here for proof.
NOW THEY HAVE TO CALL A NEW JURY.
This means we will have to hear about this FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES.
No. I’m secretly (not so secretly) thrilled. I kind of love soap operas. I used to watch them when I was sick in elementary school. When I became a grown up, soap operas became less convenient (and kept cancelling… weird) so I have to use things like this trial to fill the void. Oh, and my job. That’s a void-filler.
The judge halted proceedings this morning over complaints from the defense about the prosecutors use of information the judge had banned – and then the judge quickly accepted their concerns and declared a mistrial.
The defense had objected to the use of part of Clemens’ 2008 testimony about Andy Pettitte, drug use, etc, etc.
Afoul! Such dramatic language. I can just see a pirate belting that out on an angry sea.
Clemens sure would make a great pirate.
Pirates don’t care what you’re on as long as you have time for some yohohos and a bottle of rum.
Oh, and some horrifically graphic pillaging. Pirates don’t sound so cool when you think about the horrifically graphic pillaging. Kind of like how Roger Clemens doesn’t sound so cool when you think of the needle juice.
So thanks, prosecutors, for making a complex issue even more complex.
Wait a second… there might not even be a fricking trial now? What????
There will be a hearing on September 2 to determine whether Clemens would face double jeopardy, should the government elect to try him. Since it was mostly a procedural error and the jury never made a decision, there will probably be another trial.
Oh, I hope so. Else you’ll get a nasty letter from me, prosecutors.
Not everyone thinks it’s going to be so cut and dry.
“This is also just absolutely terrible pre-trial publicity. The entire world knows now what has happened, and you’re never going to get a fair jury. You can’t even change the venue. Fundamental fairness [says] don’t prosecute Roger. He has a big chance right now to walk away from this. We’re going to find out I think in the next 24 hours whether that happens or not.”
At least SOMETHING good is coming out of all the juice drama…
Baseball players are getting “scared straight.”
But the LA Times explores whether or not it’s trickling down to younger athletes…
The survey of approximately 50,000 eighth-, 10th- and 12th-graders showed 4 percent of male high school seniors said they used steroids in 2010 — up from 3.4 percent in 2009 and the highest number since 2004.
Still looking for drama? Read this article about how a trial might have reignited the Wade Boggs- Roger Clemens feud of ultimate hilarity.
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.