congrats, sox

October 29, 2007

In honor of the Red Sox sweeping the Rockies, I present you with limited photographic evidence of a Halloween party this weekend where my costume was “Masshole” (aided by a shirt from one Masshole and a Sox hat from another). It, coupled with the accent, was apparently so authentic that I had dudes convinced I was Boston all night (in spite of my non-whiteness!), all of whom kept talking to me about the Sox and would come up to ask the score at various points in the night.

Behold some frightening images:

I think I was pretending to be Pedroia.

Oh, also:

The sad thing is that these photos were taken early in the night, and I progressively started to look even worse/drunker. I really dove headfirst into this characterization. YES, THAT MUST BE IT.

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GOOD LUCK BUDDY

October 25, 2007

Yes yes, the Sahwx kicked the shit out of the untouchable Rockies last night. Ho-hum. There are more pressing matters! Like this!

In the parlance of our times: ZOMGLOLZ. That is some gloriously deluded, transparent, possibly desperate/certainly solicitous bullshit.

In the event it’s taken down:

FREE housing during WORLD SERIES Games (Wed-Sat) Men only

Men 18+ who are sober are welcome to stay the days and nights of the world series at my one small room apt.

Must share thi one room together
No drugs or drinking

send phone to contact you

Me: bi-male-student in music and law

How very accomodating! But only men, huh? That seems a little sexist, but I guess maybe he wants to just foster a good-natured sense of fraternity. Oh! But that little tiny inconsequential “bi-male” throw-in mention at the end of the post? Well. I wonder what he has in mind?

Also: no drugs or drinking? These are baseball fans during the World Series for Chrissake. Boozing is expected. And if they’re Sox fans? Fackin’ maandatahwry. Though he is in Boston, and what Sox fans are gonna need lodging unless they’re displaced natives? Maybe he’s hoping for some of that sweet sweet devout Rockies fan penis–I mean piety. Piety! There are certainly no shenanigans to be had in this fun-free zone of no drinking or drugs. And especially NOT sinful touching! Unless it involves sharing the tiny futon after reading some Leviticus 18:22, quelling the unsated vague feeling–some would say desire? No! It can’t be! You’re a MAN!–in the pit of your stomach while you and Bi-Male spoon and/or reluctantly, just to gauge the ambiance, surreptitiously touch hands or legs or feet under the sheets and lingering to see if he pulls away instantly or–hope of hopes!–lets his hand/leg/foot linger as well as you are wearing your Papelbon/Ortiz/Beckett jersey or perhaps Holliday/Matsui/Tulowitzki vest. Hey Bi-Male: alcohol generally helps these conversions. I mean…just sayin’. Not that I’d know or anything. Cough.

Or maybe he’s fishing for some perverts and is part of some reparative therapy group and is trying to fulfill a quota or something. Perhaps he’ll chain you to the radiator a la Ricci.

In any event: Godspeed, Bi-Male. You are certainly a more enterprising man than I.

[note to self: I wonder if this shit works.]

[note to Bi-Male: call me?]


OH MAH GAHWD DOOD

October 22, 2007

What a bunch of chowdaheads.

Congratulations to the Boston Red Sox for winning the AL pennant and advancing to the World Series! Behind a–finally–impressive performance by Dice-K and a big offensive performance by Dustin Pedroia (the pride of Woodland, CA wutwut), the Sox survived a taut six innings before exploding in the seventh and eighth, and rallied from yet another 3-1 series deficit.

Truth be told, it didn’t even seem that close. Once Jake Westbrook gave up four hits in the first inning (though only one run)–after Dice-K looked dominant, with that rowdy Fenway Park crowd–it seemed like a foregone conclusion. Actually, for me, it seemed like a foregone conclusion after game five. Before that game, I remarked to someone, “If Cleveland doesn’t close this out at home tonight, the Sox are winning it all.” Look at me predicting shit.

So. It’s the Team of Destiny vs. the New Yankees.

There are a few oddities in play here. For one, COORS FIELD HAS SNOW ON IT OMG. Second-of-ly, entering game one, the Rockies will have not played a game in nine days. Will any of this matter considering they haven’t lost a game in over a month? OVER A MONTH. They last lost on September 15th, for Holliday’s sake.

As for the Sox, well–they seem like a team that, when they get on a roll, they’re unstoppable (versus the actual unstoppability FOR A WHOLE MONTH of the Rockies). The lineup in the past three games has seemed to finally wake up, and they finally decided to start Jacoby Ellsbury in favor of Coco Crisp, which the entirey of Red Sox Nation (or at  least, those to whom I’m privy) had been clamoring for in the past week. Also, on paper, doesn’t Beckett-Schilling-Matsuzaka look incredibly frightening?

I don’t see how the Rockies can match up with the Sox in either pitching or hitting. But then again, the Rockies took two out of three at Fenway earlier this year when they were nowhere near the Team of Destiny. I guess teams of destiny just find a way to win.

Still: Red Sox in six.


the colorado rockies will eat your babies and spank your momma

October 16, 2007

But they’ll be really nice about it and you’ll be all, “Dawwwwww, you’re all right.”

Look, it’s already snowing in Denver! That’s not baseball weather!

Oh.

Congratulations to the Colorado Rockies, who continue rolling along, winning their 20th of 21 games. Ho-hum. TWENTY OF TWENTY ONE. Two weeks left in the regular season, in FOURTH for the WILD CARD, and now they’re in the World Series. A miracle win tiebreaker. They killed the Phillies in three, and did the same to the Diamondbacks in four. I am convinced that they will never lose another game.

You do not mess with the Chosen Ones.

Just about the only thing that could cool off the Rockies right now is the fact that they’ll have to wait another eight days before the World Series starts; this could also help them, as Cleveland and Boston seem like they’ll battle to the absolute death in the ALCS. Last night I watched the Tribe-Sox game with Red Sox fan Business or Leisure?; when Kenny Lofton blasted a 2-run shot off Dice-K, it felt like the tone of the night was set. The scary-ass Boston lineup would start making what seemed to be rallies, up until a freak out (Manny’s grounder hitting Papi) or an inning-ending double play (of which there were like seven thousand). Indians lead the series 2-1. After the swagger displayed against Anaheim, the Sox look a bit skittish, and all the nervous confessions made by many a Sox fan (every starter save Beckett, the bottom of the lineup, lack of bullpen options) look–if not to be coming true–at least valid. And about these Indians! It seems like, top to bottom, someone is coming up with a big hit, a walk, a sacrifice, a splendid display of defense to squash a rally. This is going to be a dogfight.

Meanwhile, the Rockies will be waiting. Big Stud Matt Holliday. Clutch Kaz Matsui. Troy Tulowitzki, for whom I have no nickname but my goodness does he come up with like five defensive gems a night or what?!

Godspeed, ALCS champ, whoever you may be.


cheering for vs. rooting against

October 10, 2007

As a Mets fan first and a baseball fan second, this postseason so far has been one where I’ve been in the position of wondering whether I was cheering for a team or rooting against one. I know it’s not particularly novel, but considering Worst Collapse In History Etc., I wasn’t sure if I needed a break from baseball, if it would be too heartbreaking to watch a postseason that should have included the Mets goddammit, but then: why wallow when you can lash out? The game goes on, and what a beauty of a game it is. Especially when my feared Yankees-Phillies World Series projection was snuffed out early. Schadenfreude is delicious. As are the tears of a clown.

With the four teams competing for a World Series berth, it’ll be less about rooting against. There are no remaining enemies on the Yankees or Phillies scale, really. The Indians are a good, young, exciting team that outslugged the vaunted Yankees; too bad about the racist mascot. The Red Sox are full of lovable talented goofballs; the vaunted New England Smug that would choke the rest of the country were they to get another title would be the only drawback. The Rockies smacked around the Phillies, which is enough to give them my loyalty for the month; if they win it, I’m worried that they will never ever lose another game ever again. The Diamondbacks…I dunno, whatever. But the fact that I have no major beef with any of these teams means that I can just enjoy the play and its subsequent dramatics.

So to celebrate, here are the Babe Representatives of the ALCS and NLCS. I really have nothing much else to say.

Cleveland Indians: Grady Sizemore

Look at my dimples! I am ADORABLE, hello. [note: Sizemore’s pictorial Jekyll and Hyde-ness is curious; sometimes he is the hottest thing on two legs, sometimes he looks like a stoned mook.]

Boston Red Sox: Jacoby Ellsbury

I’m the hottest Indian this side of Sizemore LOLZ.

(Alternately, there’s also GM Theo Epstein. Am I crazy, or this guy a total babelicious hunk?

Also, I’ve been told his grandpa wrote Casablanca and his sister worked on Homicide: Life on the Street. Can I be an Epstein, please?)

Colorado Rockies: Matt Holliday

That position works well for you, Matty. Um…excuse me for one second.

Arizona Diamondbacks: Micah Owings

I mean, I guess? Any pitcher who can hit two home runs in a game is pretty studly in my book. Also, the Dbacks: not particularly loaded with hotties.

In Mets land, there’s really nothing that I could write that would be any better than this analysis by the incomparable Faith and Fear in Flushing. I agree with just about everything said in it, so just go and read that rather than my drivel.


baseball is making me crazy or maybe it’s the illness

October 5, 2007

I think I’m coming down with something. First of all, I’ve been having images of Kaz Matsui hitting grand slams in the postseason…what?! Um, ok. I don’t know how to feel about Matsui being a total choke while on the Mets, and then turning around and helping to kill off the Phillies.

Actually I do: SUCK IT, PHILLY.

I actually do think I’m getting ill though. Last night, while listening to the Indians completely dominate the Yankees (btw, the John Sterling-Suzyn Waldman broadcasting team makes me want to cut my ears off. Sterling has this awful affected wavering to his voice, and Waldman is just the worst kind of combination of Masshole/Bronx/Jersey I’ve ever heard, and they both seem remarkably bored by everything, and it just makes me really appreciate Howie Rose and Tom McCarthy and their insight, humor, and enthusiasm thankyouverymuch) I started drifting off to sleep. While asleep I had the following dream:

Huge uproar. President Bush on TV, looking stern and making a grave speech about something. Behind him is the First Lady, hand over her face, shaking her head in horror.

“What began as a simple celebration,” intones Bush to a rattled country, “turned into one of the most gruesome acts I have ever witnessed in my life.”

Quick cut to Terry Francona in the audience, pensive, arms crossed. Bud Selig is next to him, blowing a bubble and shrugging.

Bush says, “I hereby ban Jonathan Papelbon from participating in this year’s playoffs.” 

Shock! Horror! Outrage! Gasping! Nodding in agreement! The deafening sounds of screeching on the Pike! Jonathan Papelbon is being dragged away from Fenway Park in handcuffs! What is going on?!??!?!

I check the computer, dazed, and Google “Jonathan Papelbon controversy.” And then I find the offending piece of news in the form of a photo:

Papelbon. With his balls on Laura Bush’s face.

Come on, doesn’t he look like the kinda guy who’d put his balls on your face?

I mean, I wouldn’t mind. Or something. Um, what?

Oh in another news, the Cubs lost again.


oh you mean there’s a POSTseason?

October 4, 2007

First, a disclaimer: I never meant this to be a Mets-only blog (the few scattered posts about tennis and a Lou Piniella tribute points to that, barely). I didn’t really know how this blog would take shape when it started, but considering I lived and died with the Mets’ every game this season, I suppose it was only natural that the vast majority of the content would be about them. But their season is done. Is that supposed to mean that this blog is done until April? I would hope not. I still love the fuck out of baseball, even though it hurts that my team is out of it. I still love the feeling of October baseball. And there’s always rooting against the Phillies.

So!

Rockies d. Phillies 4-2, lead series 1-0
I would like to think I helped the Rockies because, the night before at the Jeffrey Leonard Invitational, I named my team “Cole Hamels is a PUNK BITCH.” I’m sure the fact that the Rockies have won 15 of their last 16 games will be seen as only a minor footnote to the large-scale hexing of Cole Hamels given by me. You’re welcome, Colorado.

How crazy has Colorado been playing? And who would have thought that, in that bandbox called Citizens Bank Park, these two offensive juggernauts would experience a pitching duel? Quelle surprise! Jeff Francis’ only mistakes were back-to-back homeruns to Aaron Rowand and Pat Burrell, which cut the Rockies lead to 3-2. Otherwise, he was straight up dealing, and the top four in the Phillies lineup went a combined 0-for-15 with 9 Ks (siddown, Chutley).

As for Hamels, it all unraveled in the second inning as Todd Helton ripped a leadoff triple and was then sent home by a Garrett Atkins double. After Brad Hawpe struck out, Hamels walked Ryan Spilborghs, and Atkins came home on a bloop by Yorvit Torrealba. A Francis sac bunt moved the runners up, and Kaz Matsui (hey, look at that guy playing in the postseason!) walked to load the bases. Troy Tulowitzki drew another walk, plating Spilborghs. Matt Holliday justmissed a grand slam before striking out to end Hamels’ 40-pitch inning. Hamels blamed his undershirt. Hey Cole? Maybe when it’s a sunny afternoon game, you don’t wear long-sleeves? Just sayin’. Ya punk bitch. [Full disclosure: I am quite sure that if Cole Hamels were a Met, he’d give me a boner.]

Meanwhile, Holliday atoned for his missed grand slam with a solo shot in the eighth off of Tom Gordon. Matt Holliday, you are a big fucking pimp, even with your game-winning chin bruise on Monday. Also, best quote about Philly heckling:

“Yeah, I’ve heard a little about the chin. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because it’s so visible. Or maybe it’s because I’m such a good-looking guy anyway.”

Awesome.

Red Sox d. Angels 4-0, lead series 1-0
One game and it already looks over for the Los Angeles, California Angels of Anaheim, Orange County. With Josh Beckett pitching like a madman, the Angels couldn’t wreak their particular small ball havoc. Big Papi and YOOUUUUUUUK homered. Ho-hum, wake us up when they’re facing the Yankees.

I have to admit that I feel complete ambivalence about this series. As soon as the Sox won it, I received a gloating call from one of their fans, telling me that Anaheim sucks (in the background was a mass–heh–of cawing and squawking Massholes. Shit sounded like a barn, for real). Seeing as I lived there once, yes I know. As a proud Southern Californian, I feel compelled to root for them. But bleh, really. I grew up a Dodgers fan, and the Angels were always just the baseball version of the Clippers to me. But then the Dodgers traded Piazza and became dead to me, inciting Mets fandom, and so my slight SoCal baseball allegiance shifted to the Angels. But still–bleh. I did of course root for them in 2002, but that was SoCal vs. NoCal, and fuck the Giants seriously.

Then there’s the matter of the Red Sox–and, more specifically, their fans. I admire and sometimes love the team. They’ve got an all-time lovable goofball dunderhead in Jonathan Papelbon, and Big Papi seems like the awesomest dude this side of Tom Waits. But the fans! I love all the dudes I know who are Red Sox fans. They are stand-up, funny, charming, hot pieces of ass. It’s all the ones I don’t know that give me pause. In some ways they are a perfect distillation of the town: when the Sahx are winning, there’s drunken hooting yahdoodery. When they’re not, it’s self-flagellating, histrionic Irish-or-Italian/Catholic suffering.

Still, I’m rooting for the Sox here, because anything else would be tantamount to treason to my Red Sox buddies as well as the season-ending MetSox Desperation Pact (hey, so glad it worked for at least one of those teams. Harumph). Also, I wouldn’t want to hear Whadayahfackinretahtid? on a daily basis.

Diamondbacks d. Cubs 3-1, lead series 1-0
Whew! Two of the best pitchers in the bigs going head-to-head, and the big story manages to be Lou Piniella pulling Carlos Zambrano in the sixth inning…right after the Cubs had tied the game! You drama queen. Lou, ayahfackinretahtid?!

Said Lou:

“I’ve got a good bullpen here, OK? And I trust my bullpen. I’m bringing back a pitcher on three days’ rest on Sunday, and I took a shot with my bullpen. It didn’t work today. They’ve done it all year. I’ve got confidence in them — period, end of story.”

Maybe I’m biased, considering I’m only aware of the Cubs bullpen through its collapses against the Mets *coughRyanWuertzcough* but it’s a puzzling move by Lou. I understand maybe wanting to have Zambrano have rest for a possible Game Four, but you could maybe not even worry about it if you win Game One! You’re really gonna trust Carlos Marmol with a tie game instead of Big Z? Okay. Here’s a leadoff tie-breaking homer for your faith.

Meanwhile, in Metsland, Omar Minaya has assured us that Willie Randolph will continue as manager next year. Willie celebrated by shaving off his stache:

Stan immediately commented:

I’m sure there are many Mets fans who are as scared about Willie still having a job as Harry Potter is about whatever-the-hell that-is or whatever-actually-happens to Harry Potter when whatever-the-hell-that-is shows up.

Meanwhile, Paul Lo Duca cleaned out his locker and showed us that he wears metrosexual Chelsea fag mandals.

Those are some sharp-looking jeans too, Paulie.