Fuck it, now is as good a time as any:
I have officially MOVED this site over to typepad.com. The new URL is www.rallycuff.typepad.com/rallycuff, so if any of you who have my blog linked up could kindly switch the address that would be hella cool. Please keep in mind that the new Rallycuff isn't 100% finished yet, so if you don't see your blog on the blogroll over there even though it is on this blogroll over here, don't get pissed 'cause it's still a work in progress. Thanks everyone, and hasta la never, Blogger.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Fuck it, now is as good a time as any:
Saturday, April 23, 2005
First off, let me just say that I have nothing but disdain for the Devil Rays as a team, as a fanbase, as a franchise and as individual people, down to a man. Except for Sweet Lou.
Second: I hate, hate, hate Scott Kazmir. I want to stuff his little bitch ass into a tire and roll him down Vine St. wearing a swastika t-shirt with a bag of crack pinned to the front. I would love to run into this guy at that Golden Moment of Drunkeness when you're so fucked up but you feel so good that you'll try anything, cause I bet I could whip his ass. Seriously. I'm about six feet tall, I weigh like 200 lbs, and I don't fight fair. Hmmm...the Tampa Bay Devil Rays are coming to Cincinnati in July to play the Reds...
Third: I cannot stand to listen to overly self-congratulatory announcers, especially when they are announcing for really mediocre/piss-poor teams like the Rockies or, say, the Devil Rays. I mean, Michael Kay is bad enough, but at least the Yankees have like, a winning history and the ever-present threat of being sent to the gulag by Czar Steinbrenner to back up his shameless dick suckery. But the Devil Rays? Did anyone get to see those guys? They have two of the worst toupees in the history of mankind, and if I have to hear anything else about how "electric" Scott Kazmir's stuff is or how great that wife-beating mongoloid Julio Lugo is I'm going to break something. You announce for the fucking DEVIL RAYS. Didn't you guys just have your first season not in last place or something? Or maybe it was your first season playing .300+ baseball, I can't remember. In any case, go fuck yourselves.
Fourth: What is up with the homeplate umpires the Sox have been getting lately? Last night the strike zone was apparently about the same size and shape as the outline of a Cadillac Catera if one were to park it a shade to the left of home plate. Not to mention that every close call was pretty much going to the D-Bags.
Fifth: "Boots" Bellhorn is trying my patience.
Sixth: Matt Mantei...wow...all I can say is that I hope he caught Varitek's cold from one of the mound visits his shoddy pitching necessitated.
Seventh: The Sox battled back against the D-Bags' "bullpen" to tie the score at 4 in the ninth inning, only to have Alan Embree come out in the bottom of the ninth and give up a walk-off home run on like the first pitch he threw, which is also known as "Pulling a Vazquez." Last night's game was like having your girlfriend over after school while your parents aren't home, but by the time you get her to make out with you it's like 5:00 and your dad is due home at any time and you end up getting half a handjob because right when shit is starting to get good you hear the car door slam in the driveway.
Friday, April 22, 2005
Clement pitched 8 scoreless innings for the Red Sox last night with 7 strikeouts, 8 hits and only 1 walk, which in itself is a victory of sorts for Clement. Kevin Millar doubled in the second inning and was later driven in by an RBI single from Ramon Vazquez (replacing the ailing Bill Mueller,) and that was the only run of the entire ballgame. I have to say that I'd never expect a game between the Sox and O's to turn into a pitcher's duel, since it seems like one or both teams always manages to put quite a few runs on the board, yet pitcher's duel it was.
Clement looked sharp. He's got so much movement on his stuff that it doesn't always hit the spot exactly where Varitek sets up his glove, but last night I thought his location was excellent. Which is probably why he only managed to walk one batter. Clement's opponent, Rodrigo Lopez, is usually one who gives the Sox starting lineup fits and last night was no different, although personally I think he had a little help from the homeplate umpire. Bob Welke's strike zone seemed to be about as consistent as a crackhead showing up to a day job, and it seemed to hurt the Sox more often than it hurt the Orioles. Manny and Ortiz were called out in consecutive at-bats on balls that appeared to be - at least from my comfortable view from my pillow - obviously outside the strike zone. Then Welke would turn around and call the same pitch a ball and cause Lopez to walk somebody. It was fucking retarded. But the Sox prevailed. I like to watch Clement pitch, but he is soooooo slow. He's slower than a drugged sloth tied to a glacier.
Manny was still in the lineup last night despite complaining of a sore left quad. What is it with this dude and his legs? Aren't they supposed to do like, workout programs over the off-season and like, stretching stuff before games to keep this sort of shit from happening? I mean, Manny complains about his legs every year. Usually around the All-Star Break, but I'm not trying to insinuate anything. Perhaps Manny would like to hire me as a volunteer leg rubber. No payment neccessary - believe me, the pleasure is all mine. Bill Mueller and Captain Tek both have colds, Mueller's bad enough to earn him a night off. And I've heard that Wade Miller is doing great in the minors and could be on the mound for the Red Sox as early as May 3rd. I can't wait to see what this cat can do. Only question is - who goes to the bullpen? Wakey or Arroyo? That's a tough one.
And please allow me to mention once more my imminent move over to Typepad.com. From this point on I will be posting every day in both locations until I finally get the balls to switch over. Feel free to visit the new RallyCuff and let me know what you think, even though it really won't change anything because I'm still going to move away from the acursed Blogger anyway.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
David Wells pitched eight innings of three-hit baseball last night against the hottest team in the majors, the Baltimore Orioles. This was very heartening for me, as I was kind of starting to second guess the wisdom of Theo's choice...but watching Boomer last night - shit, he made it look easy! Wells had 5 three-up/three-down innings and struck out 5. His opponent Bruce Chen (remember when he beat the Yankees in 2003 after Pedro went on the DL with a strained back?) wasn't as lucky: Chen was cruising through the first four innings, but ran into some trouble in the fifth when he allowed Varitek to score from third base on a balk. In the sixth inning, the very same Jason Varitek belted a three-run homer, making it 4-0 Sox. Damon scored on a single from Manny Ramírez in the seventh, and then in the eighth the Sox scored three more runs on an RBI double from Bill Mueller, an RBI single from Mark Bellhorn, and a sacrifice ground-out hit by Johnny Damon, which brought us to the final score: 8-0 Boston.
I feel pretty happy about the Sox winning this game. Not only are the Orioles the hottest hitting team in baseball right now, but they also traditionally have given the Red Sox fits. Now it seems that they're playing the Yankees a lot tougher this year. Perhaps the tables have turned. Time will tell: Matt Clement takes on Lopez tonight, who is officially the Red Sox's prison daddy. I don't know why but he absolutely stymies the Sox line-up. I hate him.
I'm so excited about going to Detroit on May 2nd! For one thing, I get to see my good buddy Paulie, whom I have not seen since we went to Boston for the World Series. Second of all, I've never been to Comerica Park, so I can cross another ballpark off my list. And third of all, we have what should be great seats behind the visiting on-deck circle. Oh ya, and did I mention that the Red Sox will be in town? I can't waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait!
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Nomar chilling in the infield during the Cubs' BP.
Nomar taking BP. We were way out in right field and they wouldn't let us down by home plate without a ticket. Assholes.
My friend Chris and I. I'm enjoying a licorice rope. Mmmmmm.
Mark Prior warming up. He whipped the Reds' asses.
Our man Wily Mo Peña again.
Your quintessential Chicago Cubs fan. No comment.
Incidentally, that particular Cubs fan was also brandishing a hot dog, claiming that every time he ate a hot dog the Cubs would get a home run. Other Cubs fans in the vicinity actually started to buy him hot dogs. The guy wouldn't shut up about it. Deeply weird. In any case, the Reds got pasted to the tune of 7-1, but it didn't matter since Chris and I were too busy sexually harassing Wily Mo Peña to care.
The Sox suffered a frustrating loss at the hands of the bullpen, squandering a hard-fought game by Bronson Arroyo and yet another homerun from Manolito (over the fucking light towers!!!!! SWEET JUMPING JESUS!) as well as Big Dada. Alan Embree came in a gave up a two-run homer, and then Keith Foulke allowed a hit to score what ended up being the winning run for the Blue Jays. Whatever magic Foulke possessed in October seems to be momentarily cashed as he has pretty much struggled thusfar. Disturbing. But it's still early. And hey, at least we're not the Yankees.
It is fucking AMAZING to witness the display of bad-assery that Manny is putting on right now, but I wish he'd slow the pace a little bit so that I have a chance to see his 400th career homerun when we go to Detroit on May 2nd. I'd cry happy tears.
Monday, April 18, 2005
Jonathan and I went to the Reds/Astros game yesterday, and I have to admit that there is one person on Cincinnati's hick team that I secretly root for, and that is Wily Mo Peña. Ever since he came up on the big league team last year, Mike and I have been following his performance. We've even been calling one of our cats Wily Mo. (Don't tell anybody that, then people will think that I like the Reds when I definitely do not.) He's a young kid from the Dominican Republic with a lot of power but also a lot of room for improvement in the outfield. And he's got a knack for having a dramatic flair. Mike and I are both daydreaming about his eventual trade to the Red Sox. Wily Mo would be perfect in a Boston uniform: he consistently has a bad haircut, he always has some ghetto-ass batting music (yesterday it was Twista,) he's Dominican, and he has some dicey defensive work under his belt. I'm not going to lie - I lust after Wily Mo, in a strictly baseball sort of way.
Anyway, yesterday Wily Mo hit a three-run homer off of Astro's pitcher Brandon Duckworth that went 498 feet. 498. We were sitting out in left field, almost right behind Adam "Strikeout or Homer" Dunn, and this ball sailed over the section to the left of us and way back into the second tier bleacher seats. Holy shit. Then later, in the eighth inning, after the Reds' atrocious bullpen had allowed the game to become tied at 5, Wily Mo comes up and drives in the go-ahead run with a long, long double. I love this kid. Can you imagine what he could do if he were constantly around Manny and Ortiz?? And seeing as how the Reds have a penchant for trading away good young talent at the drop of a hat when they have their annual "Falling Out of Contention" sale in July, I'm sure Peña will be available. Um, as to where he'd play, I haven't figured that out yet. I just want him on the Red Sox.
Other things about going to the Reds game:
A smattering of Reds fans booed Ken Griffey Jr. when he was unable to get to a double that no one in the game could have caught, and I think that's pretty shitty. I mean, don't get me wrong - there are plenty of reasons to boo Ken Griffey Jr, most of which revolve around his salary and his never-ending stints on the DL - but to just boo him on a routine play...I was a little surprised to hear that. Booing your own team is so lame.
I can't stand the constant games and announcements that go on between innings at that ballpark. It's like they don't think we can be happy just paying attention to the game. Why do we have to watch a race between stupid animated baseballs on the scoreboard or vote on a "Song of the Game?" I understand doing goofy shit during the 7th inning stretch, but nowadays there isn't any time for goofy shit since for some reason we have to stand for America the Beautiful or whatever the fuck they're making us take our hats off for these days. It's getting sort of out-of-control. How about a nice round of "Take Me Out To The Ballgame" and then get on with the fucking game? Maybe I'm just a traditionalist. It was still fun, though.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
It was only a matter of time.
I have now managed to win Player of the Game for three straight games. Last night I decided to pick Manny one last time before I totally abandoned him for a couple weeks, mostly for sentimental reasons: now that Pedro is gone, Manny has gone from my Second Favorite Red Sox to the top of the list, and I'll admit to cheering just a wee bit harder for him than I do for everyone else. So even though he's fucked me over several times in the past week and a half, I decided to give him one last chance to redeem himself. Mike, meanwhile, picked Johnny Damon. Considering that my pick drove in all of the Red Sox's 6 runs on a two-run homer and a grand slam, I think I won.
And goddamnit, let the season begin. The Sox are on a very modest but never-the-less very good feeling win streak (3 games,) Manny is hitting again, and all seems right with the world. Oh, and it's been a pleasure to watch Renteria on defense these past few games. Damn I love baseball.
I'm going to the Reds/Astros game today with Jonathan - maybe I'll post some pics.
Saturday, April 16, 2005
Unfortunately I was unable to watch all of last night's game, but I am proud to announce that I am on a roll, ladies and gentlemen: I won Player of the Game again, for the second consecutive night. I picked Ortiz, and while I didn't get to see much past the fourth inning, I did see his grand slam in the third which pretty much trumps anything else anyone else's Player of the Game could have done so I WIN AGAIN! Victory is sweet. Speaking of victory, the Sox dealt the D-Rays a good old-fashioned ass-whooping to the tune of 10-0. Well done. Unfortunately, Manny continues to dwell around the Mendoza line.
A list of things Manny might as well be swinging with these days:
1. A garden hose
2. A hockey puck in a dirty sock.
3. One of those huge, mega-sized Pixie Stix
4. A flourescent lightbulb
5. A two-litre of Fresca
6. A suckling pig
I'm sure he'll come around, but for right now he looks hiiiiiiiiiideous.
I would also like to tell whoever is interested that I am planning a move over to Typepad in a couple weeks. I have a version of RallyCuff up and running over there - feel free to take a gander if you want: www.rallycuff.typepad.com/rallycuff. I'm just pretty much sick to death of Blogger, and I've been very impressed with my free trial period over at Typepad, so I'm 90% sure that I'm moving. Let me know what you think.
Friday, April 15, 2005
Mama I'm a Red Sox now!
Welcome to the team, Edgar!
This was one of those games that seemed like a lifetime.
First of all, Mike and I chose our picks for Player of the Game. Mike went out on a limb and picked Jay Payton, while I doggedly chose Renteria again, having left Manny up on the cliff for the vultures. Imagine my disgust when Jay Payton hit a two-run homer in the second inning - not because I was upset about the Sox taking the lead, but rather I was dismayed about my chances at ever winning the Player of the Game contest. I mean, Jay Payton??? Just my luck.
But wait - not so fast. My pick of the game, Mr. Renteria, comes up to bat in the third inning and wouldn't you know that he hit a two-run Monster shot of his own?! My celebration over this small victory was only topped by Manny's pimp stroll down the first base line in Game 5 of the 2003 ALCS, and meanwhile Mike was giving me disparaging "Act-Like-You've-Been-There-Before" looks. Player of the Game status was all tied up. Meanwhile, the Sox had taken a nice 4-1 lead.
In the mean time, a wicked storm had been brewing in the game around mongoloid home plate umpire Greg Gibson or whatever the fuck his asshole name was. This guy brought the concept of incompetency to a new level. In the top of the fourth, Arroyo had loaded the bases on a base hit and two honest walks. Sheffield was up to bat. The count is loaded. Arroyo whips a nifty curveball in right over the center of the plate about belt-high...and that dumb fuck behind the plate calls it a ball. Beautiful pitch, beautiful location, yet in comes a run. Then Matsui follows with a two run single and A-Fraud with a one run single. And just like that the Yanks are up 5-4. Fuck Greg Gibson. Send that man a Febreeze martini on me. So not only are the Yankees now in the lead, but somehow Papa Jack has been thrown out of the game after having to be physically restrained by the other coaches. I was watching Tito try to shove Papa Jack away and becoming seriously stressed out about Tito's health. I actually started to yell for some other coaches to come in there and help him out. Which they did. But it was all in vain, since in the bottom of the very same inning Tito himself got thrown out for arguing balls and strikes - but not before giving that cockbreath Gibson an ear full.
Jason Varitek blasted a one-run homer waaaayyy the fuck over the Green Monster and now the score is tied up again. It stays that way for the next three innings. Meanwhile Randy Johnson (occassionally with the help of Greg "Pillowbiter" Gibson) has amassed nine strikeouts.
Bottom of the eighth. In comes Tom Gordon. Damon singles to lead off the inning. Then up comes my Pick of the Game, Edgar Renteria - also known as My Boy Edgar Renteria - who wastes no time in smacking a wall-ball double, scoring Damon from first and giving the Sox the lead again. Sound familiar? It's because Cabby did almost the exact same thing last year, hitting a wall-ball double to score Damon from first and win the game for the Sox, and both plays can rightly be considered the exact moment that Cabby and Renteria officially became Red Sox. Welcome aboard, Eddie! Manny "Mendoza Line" Ramirez followed with a fly-out to left field. Ortiz was intentionally walked. Millar flies out to left field and now Varitek is up. Tek smokes one down the right field line that starts to carom around like crazy...one run is in...two runs are in...and next thing I know, Gary Sheffield is punching a fan in the right field stands. Supposedly the fan punched Sheffield in the mouth.
Now, I don't agree with fan interference or any type of violence on the field, especially directed at players. But....it couldn't have happened to a better person.
The Sox hang on to win 8-5, even though Foulke tried his hardest to blow the game in the ninth by absolutely refusing to throw a first pitch strike. The Sox have finally won their first series of the season, and as the Devil Rays are coming into town I see nothing but blue skies in the near future.
Oh, and this makes it two games in a row for Millar:
Fabulous. Just fabulous.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
The shiny-ness of the brand new baseball season is sort of starting to wear off now and I finally felt my first twinge of Red Sox-related anger tonight.
1. Fuck Blaine Neal. Yes, he had two strikeouts tonight, and yes, one of them was A-Fraud, and no, he did not give up any runs. But I still think he sucks. Putting Blaine Neal into a game is like running a white flag up the fucking pole. And what kind of name is Blaine Neal - did your parents pick that out of a fucking Jackie Collins novel? Gross.
2. The Sox are pulling a "Red Sox" by being unable to capitalize on walks and by leaving men in scoring position. Jaret Wright is a train wreck of a human being, but you'd think he was the Dalai Fucking Lama if you look at the third inning on my scoresheet: one double, three walks and only one run scored - on a sac-fly, no less. Lame.
3. No matter how hard I try, I can never, ever beat Mike at the Player of the Game contest. Tonight I picked Manny, because I figure hey - how long can that guy go on sucking like this? Meanwhile, Mike goes with the safer pick in Trot Nixon. Needless to say, I lose. Trot hits a homer and walks three times, while Manny has a double, a walk and a fly-out, rounding out his evening with what would have been two magnificent ground-outs-into-double-plays had there been a man on first base.
4. Renteria. Somebody get this guy a hooker or something.
5. Schilling? Good first five innings, but the guy isn't God - he should have come out after the fifth. Normally, giving up three hits and two runs in an inning after one has only given up three hits the previous four innings isn't a sign of impending doom...unless it happens to be one's very first start of the year and one has already thrown in excess of eighty pitches. But, out he comes in the sixth to give up two homers for a combined three runs. Shrug. I told Tito it wasn't a good idea, but he didn't listen to me. He did listen to me about the Bellhorn/day off thing, though.
But, there is a silver lining to this cloud. The Sox may have lost 5-2 to the Yankees in a very agonizing fashion, but no matter what happens, no one can take this memory away from me:
It's never going to stop making me laugh.
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
The Red Sox home opener looked like the perfect day: rings handed out, flags hoisted, Yankee ass soundly whipped. Unfortunately, the ring ceremony wasn't broadcast here in Cincinnati, but we got to watch some of the highlights Remy and Orsillo showed during the game and I have to admit...I teared up. It was everything I have been dreaming about since Oct. 27, 2004. It was incredibly, unbelievably fucking cool.
The game was great fun, too, with the Sox drubbing the Yankees 8-1. Mike Mussina only lasted five innings, giving up only seven hits but six earned runs, thanks in part to a 2-run monster shot by Doug Mirabelli and a bases loaded, 2-RBI single by Kevin Millar. In the fourth inning an error by A-Fraud on a ball hit by Johnny Damon allowed a run to score and also gave license to fans throughout the ballpark to mercilessly taunt His Royal Highness Princess Rodriguez for the rest of the game. Elsewhere in the Red Sox batting order, Manny was able to get his third RBI of the year - although he is still batting a shameful .214 - and Trot continued to kick ass with a hit, a double and a walk.
And I have to say, I'm starting to feel bad for Edgar Renteria. For one thing, the guy doesn't seem to be able to do much of anything at the plate, and when he does finally produce it's never in the clutch. And then when the guy makes a (up to this point) rare good play at shortstop, and I'm thinking "Alright, show em what you're made of Eddie!" some weird shit happens like yesterday when he made a nice ranging snag behind second base which no one expected him to get to: A-Rod keeps on running around to home, Mirabelli gets up way in front of homeplate, causing the throw to home to be completely worthless, and Renteria was unable to save a run. The dude just seems to be kind of snake-bit. I feel bad for him. I've watched him play a bit on the Cardinals and I know that he's a better ballplayer than he's been showing us. I'm waiting for his breakthrough moment, like Cabby had when he banged that double off of the scoreboard and brought in the game-winning run.
And this Bellhorn guy.......Wow. A lot of, a lot of strikeouts there.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
The wonderrrrrrrr of it all!
As if the Foxwoods commercials couldn't get any weirder or more irritating, now they are filled with fucking leprechauns singing in a stupid brogue. It's like a bad dream. Between that and the endless Curt Schilling commercials, 2005 promises to be a very special year.
Last night's game was pretty unspectacular - at least from a Red Sox stand point. From a B-Jays stand point it was probably the high point of their fucking season: back-to-back-to-back home runs given up by Wells in the third inning and a grand slam given up by some schmoo from our bullpen in the eighth.
Concern #1: This is the second start in a row in which David Wells has sucked ass. His location is, er, less than pinpoint-accurate at this (early) stage in the season. Good news is, if he keeps this up the Sox might not have to pay him all that incentive salary. Bad news is, ball go bye-bye.
Concern #2: This bullpen is giving me 2003 flashbacks. Even Keith Foulke seems to have somehow morphed into Chad Fox. What's up? They've given up a hideous number of runs in just five games. We were thinking that John Halama could be the new John Burkett. Think again.
The line-up last night was all wacky last night due to an off day for Renteria (hey, hasn't he had enough of those already? ba-doom-chhhhhhhh I'll be here all week, ladies and gentlemen) and the fact that Johnny Damon had to get six stitches in his elbow where he cut himself on those fucking STUPID new scoreboards in the outfield. In other Johnny Damon news, I bet I'm the only Red Sox fan in the world that is sick to DEATH of seeing/hearing about that guy. I am. For real. I'm tired of all the fucking Johnny Damon talk. There. I said it.
Renteria is causing all my National League fan friends to clap me on the back and say things like "Renteria will come around - he's a good ballplayer, just you wait and see." And I have absolute faith that by the middle of May we will all have forgotten these first few weeks. But for now I've been watching him and Manny through a crack between my fingers with a hand over my eyes. Painful.
Rubber match with the Blue Jays today, ring ceremony tomorrow - life is good.
Friday, April 08, 2005
I had the good luck to go to Cincinnati's opening day game this past Monday. I say "good luck" because supposedly tickets to Cincinnati's opening day were the most sought-after tickets in baseball this year. Opening Day is always a big deal here in Cincinnati - the Reds were the first professional baseball team and therefore they always get to play their opening game at home. Plus everyone here is all excited because the Reds got Eric Milton and Ben Weber and they think (wrongly) that the Reds might finish higher than fourth place this year. But I bet that there were more than a few people there for the same reason that Mike and I spent $140 on two seats from a scalper: to watch Pedro Martínez. I could give two shits about the scumbag Mets (who got swept by the Reds, by the way,) and I have only a passing interest in the Reds, but Pedro is my favorite pitcher ever and probably always will be. It was totally worth the $140 to sit in the awesome seats we had and watch him pitch for three innings.
But why does he have to be such a douchebag?
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Finally! We were able to watch our first entire baseball game of the season. Sunday's game found me a bit too drunk at the end to pay attention, Monday we didn't get into the game until the middle of the third inning, and last night our cable went out. But by God we watched all 54 outs of today's game, and what a game it was.
Apparently, upon seeing the scarlet letter "B" on an opposing hat, Mariano Rivera turns into a pants-wetting, shriveled up old man. Last year I was trying to be gracious about it, even making excuses like "well, when a team sees Rivera as much as the Sox do, you're bound to have some success against him," (which was also my Pedro excuse.) But now I'm sort of contemplating outright ownership of Rivera by the Sox. For those of you counting, today was Rivera's fourth consecutive blown save against the Red Sox. They have a phrase in Panama for four consecutive blown saves: "No bueno."
The game was tied up in the eighth thanks to a 2 RBI single by Millar and solo homeruns by A-Rod and Tino Martinez (who was given a totally gratuitous and nauseating curtain call my god I fucking hate the Yankees and their douchebag fans.) Embree put Tony Womack on in the eighth and Mike "the Iron Eagle" Timlin allowed him to score over the agonizing journey that were his two outs of the inning (two walks, one hit-by-pitch.) If I hadn't already known that somehow, some way Rivera had blown (another) save, I think I would have had my first angry spell of the season at this point, mostly over the fact that Timlin was left in to face Matsui when he obviously had nothing working. But somehow the Sox escaped only one run down, and in the top of the ninth in came El Shittero de Bedos. Two-thirds of an inning, three hits, three earned runs, three walks and one strike-out.
But wait a second! - you're asking yourself. The Sox won 7-3 - how did Mo only earn three of the four runs that occurred in the ninth inning? Well, I'm so glad you asked.
Thanks to Alex Rodriguez's miserable failure at a Harlem Globetrotters impersonation in which he actually appeared to dribble the fucking baseball in the dirt between third and second, Bill Mueller was allowed to score the tying run. No matter how cool A-Rod tries to look, he will always be the fucking nerd.
And that, my friends, is the first Red Sox win of the year. Only 159 games left! :(
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
I was all happy last night as I sat out behind work, waiting for Mike to finish up inside. I was sitting on a bucket, reading my book (Perfume by Patrick Suskind) and enjoying the beautiful weather. It is finally spring here in Cincinnati. Last night it was a peaceful, breezy 65 degrees, and when I walked out of work the sky still had a warm hue to it, even though the sun had already set. All the lights in our alley behind the restaurant seemed warmer, almost golden. The casual way the dishwasher walked out of the back of the neighboring restaurant and shook out his broom reinforced the sense of warmth and spring in the air: a month ago he would have stepped out quickly, breath pluming out of his mouth, and shook the broom briefly to get back inside where it was warm; last night there was no hurry. And I was content in the knowledge that very soon I would be walking home to our waiting VCR with a tape of today's Sox/Yankees game inside, waiting for us to sit down, waiting for us to rewind it, waiting for us to watch. Life doesn't get much better than it is right now.
So we get home, Mike opens a Pepsi and I get the tape ready and get my scoresheet together and we start watching. First sign that something is going to go wrong: they broadcast the game on the motherfucking YES network. I hate the clowns that do their fucking announcing almost as much as I hate the team they work for. But whatever - we just block out Michael Kay and Paul O'Neal's endlessly self-gratifying bullshit and concentrate on watching Clement pitch. It's true that we do have to hear some unfortunate comments, like how tough it is for Clement to face this Yankees line-up coming from the National League as if Pavano isn't faced with the same challenge, or like how every routine play that Derek Jeter or Alex Rodriguez or even - ugh - Tony Womack makes is an incredible example of athletic prowess...but, like I said, for the most part we were able to ignore them.
Then, bottom of the third inning, Jeter gets hit in the hand with an inside pitch (have I told you all yet how much I miss Pedro? It just made me think about that one game in 2003 where he sent Jeter and Soriano to the hospital after hitting both with inside pitches in the first fucking inning of the game. God I love Pedro) and then A-Fraud gets caught stealing or something - in any case, he was out at second but they call him safe, and Mike and I are getting ready to pitch a serious bitch fit when all of the sudden the cable went out. And then we realized that we had taped 3 1/2 innings of baseball and 5 1/2 innings of dead air. And that's why I didn't get to watch last night's game.
File under: God hates me because I don't believe in him.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Our Opening Day pictures:
A view of the Opening Day parade from one of Cincinnati's many skywalks.
This is the only time of year that you will be able to find this many Reds fans in Cincinnati. Come June you won't be able to find one if you put out a $10,000 reward. But I guess that's what happens when a team finishes consistently in fourth place.
My best friend Chris, enjoying some red beer. Cincinnati Reds - red beer - get it? har har
I've known Chris since I was 16 years old, and he's one of the most quality people I've ever met. A recent face-to-face meeting with a toilet bowl and a bathroom floor doesn't prevent Chris from enjoying some nice, caustic red Miller Lite.
Sweet P, in the wrong uniform, but still my favorite pitcher.
We paid face value for these seats from a scalper. I almost shit my pants when I actually sat down in my seat and realized how close we were to the field. I could see the juice flying off of Pedro's jheri-curl. Bad ass.
I like this pic.
Petey gets his at-bat on.
One thing that always surprises me when I see Pedro in person is how short he is. I think he might be like a shade shorter than I am - for real. He's just a lil' fella. But he always looks so fierce on the mound that you can never tell on tv.
Enjoying some burritos at the Comet after the game.
By now we were all totally wiped out from drinking in the sunshine all day. The game was pretty cool. The Reds hit a walk-off homer in the bottom of the ninth, and since I've never seen a walk-off win before it was pretty exciting. Even though I could give two shits about the Reds. I was just sort of sad that whatever dumbass from the Mets' bullpen blew Pedro's win. But it was an awesome day, and goddamn I'm glad that baseball is back!
Monday, April 04, 2005
I'm trying to find one word that will sum up last night's 2005 season opener. Um, pathetic? Slip-shod? Half-assed? An athletic burlesque? I think the one thing that seperates my blog from the sea of other Red Sox blogs on the internet is that I'm less interested in good journalism and more interested in shoot-from-the-hip ranting and negativity, so lets just get right to it, shall we?
1. Johnny Damon looked like absolute garbage last night. He looked totally lost at the plate and looked sluggish in the outfield. I realize that he would have been unable to get to several of the (many) balls hit his way last night, but on a couple of plays he looked like Kenny Lofton. That's the 2004 Kenny Lofton, not the 1996 Kenny Lofton, if you catch my drift. I'm not going to get too pissed off 'cause it was only the first game of the season and it was like 42 degrees in New York, but perhaps Damon should start concentrating more on playing baseball (he had a .093 average in spring training) now that the season is underway and less on his book tour bullshit. Maybe it's just me.
2. Edgar Renteria. One really nice play to end the second inning. Then ugh. But I'm willing to chalk that up to nerves.
3. Manny Ramirez. Shitty at-bats. But no worry on this front. Except that I still hate the hairdo.
4. David Ortiz, however, was rocking a nice finger-wave last night, which looks good on him. He also got a nifty double down the first base line in the second inning and later came around to score the first run of the game. If I would have known then that it was one of only two runs that the Sox would score I may have been less celebratory, but hey, it was still fun to watch.
5. Kevin Millar. I'm not even going to talk about his performance in the game since I don't really remember that much except for him being robbed of a homerun by what I will grudgingly admit to being a nice catch by Hideki "At Least I'm Not As Ugly As Randy Johnson But I'm Still Really Fucking Ugly" Matsui. Instead, I'm going to tell you that this year I have been modeling my batting stance off of Millar and I'll be goddamned if I haven't been getting a shitload more hits. No lie.
6. Varitek. <>
7. Jay Payton had a pretty good night in comparison with the general shittiness of the Red Sox last night, driving in Big Dada for his first RBI of the season. Played a decent right field.
8. Bill Mueller - give it up for my StL homie, reppin' Maryland Heights, Missourri all the way. Word is bond.
9. Mark Bellhorn has a fucking hockey haircut. Let me tell you something about Mark Bellhorn: Whenever he bats from the right side of the plate, Mike and I say that it's Bellhorn's evil twin brother "Barry Bellhorn," and so we attribute all of his shitty right-handed at bats to Barry, not Mark. But Barry got a double last night and had a couple of nifty plays at second. Well done, Barry.
This would be the fifth consecutive losing opening game that the Red Sox have pulled off. Way to go, gang. But I find that I can't really work up that much vitriole over it - that's the great thing about the first couple weeks of baseball. I'm just so fucking excited for the season to start that it doesn't matter how they play, in a way.
Now I must end the post and go out and celebrate the Reds Opening Day in true Cincinnati fashion, which means drinking before eleven in the afternoon. I also hope to be attending the game to cheer on Petey, so hopefully I'll have some pics for you all later. Until then, GO SOX! :)
Sunday, April 03, 2005
It's finally here! Tonight at 8:05 the Red Sox will take the field at Yankee Stadium for the first game of their 2005 Title Defense Season. David Wells vs. Randy Johnson. Edgar Renteria vs. Derek Jeter. Manny vs. Matsui. Bellhorn vs. Sanchez or whoever the fuck the Yankees are going to have playing second base since - predictably - Tony Womack is hurt.
And then tomorrow is the Reds home opener, complete with Opening Day parade, beer tents, and a general mood of celebration. We're meeting our friend Corey at a bar across the street at eleven in the morning to get our drink on, and then we're going to try to get scalped tickets to the game to watch the Reds face The Pitcher Formerly Known As "My Boy Pedro." I can't wait I can't wait I can't wait!
Now I will finally have something to blog about again. Speaking of the word "blog," I see a move away from Blogger in my near future since their service has pretty much been sucking ass for the past month or so. But I'll let you know when that happens. For now I'm just going to have to deal with never being able to make a post properly. In fact, they probably will fuck this post up. You may never get to read this. Fuck Blogger.
Friday, April 01, 2005
Dude, I fucking hate Blogger. I'm tired of these fuck-os screwing me over every time I try to make a fucking post. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK YOU BLOGGER!!!!!!!!!!!! Take your fucking blogger blog and your fucking dashboard and shove them up your fucking ASS!
Ah. That's much better.
This has nothing to do with baseball whatsoever, but I love this picture:
My little brother came into work with me one day this week and I forced him to pose in his "nerdy" chef clothes. I love my brother. He's turning 18 in a month and on his birthday we're getting matching tattoos of our initials interlinked on our arms. Isn't he cute as a little button?
You want to know what $500 dollars worth of mushrooms looks like?
The 2005 MLB season starts the day after tomorrow! Have I mentioned lately how much I love David Ortiz?