Monthly Archives: February 2006

Battle Royale

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Trot Nixon, evidently.

You all know what I try to do here. I try to write about our local teams in a personal, rather unprofessional manner. And I try to find humor in it whenever I can. But the thing with these Red Sox is, every time I think I’ve come up with something good, they’ve gone and outdone me.

And so, I present, The Great Red Sox Cookie-Off.

Please, do yourself a favor and watch it. Pay particular attention to the Oscar worthy performance of Gabe “It’s Not a Brownie!” Kapler and the Cookie-Monster stylings of Trot Nixon who, it seems evident, is “clearly hacking people apart with chainsaws in the deepest reaches of the underground batting cages” (TM Beth). And don’t miss Bronson “Someday I’ll be a REAL musician!” Arroyo’s heartfelt rendition of “C is for Cookie.”

I promise you, watch this video and lead a better life.


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Clearly, It’s Warmer In Florida

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Caption from “Red Sox veterans watched as some of the team’s rookies ran in their underwear during morning workouts.”

See, the thing is: if you don’t love this team, you have no soul.

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It’s Been a Long, Cold Winter

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(All photos from

Okay, two things:

1) David Ortiz is the goddamned Pied Piper of baseball, leading children and adults alike through the winter and delivering them into the magical time known as “Spring Training.”

And 2) Damn, that dude is bad ass. He looks easily twenty feet tall in that picture. Look, I took a photography class or two in my time and I understand about composition and depth of field and all that stuff (not as well as Sam, but really, who does?) so I get that there’s an angle thing working here as well as the fact that a large number of people in the background seem to be children and therefore, wee, but this photo makes Papi look like the Grand Poobah of Ass-Kickery.

And oh my god, I’m excited!

I don’t think I fully understood how much I’ve missed baseball until I found myself, semi-inebriated and exhausted on Friday night, watching Olympic ice-dancing and debating which of the women ice dancers had Adam’s apples. Keep in mind that I was a figure skater myself for many, many years and therefore, one might reason, not so hard on these poor people. Yeah, not so much.

And yesterday, I was delighted to learn that the satellite at the gym had been repaired meaning that instead of suffering through eighteen hours of Creed videos (no, I am not kidding), my tiny, little, personal television would bestow ESPN and SportsCenter upon me. Except you know what they saw fit to talk about for an hour? Goddamn NASCAR.

Yeah, it’s been a long winter.

But look at that picture. And look at this one. And this one. And, oh my god, this one. But mostly? This one. Baseball, you guys! Real, shiny, new baseball!

I can’t wait.

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An Infusion of New Blood

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Now THAT’S motivational.

Okay, kids, it’s like this: I’m kind of bored. There’s no pro hockey to watch, baseball is still a month away, football is a distant memory and despite the fact that I figure skated myself for fourteen years, ice dancing ain’t really doin’ it for me. The epic beer pong tournament I attended Saturday night (holy crap, you guys, seriously) was the closest thing to a legitimate “athletic” competition I’ve seen in some time.

In short, it is a sad, sad time. Dark days ahead. I’m off today and watching Jerry Maguire, y’all. That’s how bad things are.

And so, The Rick had an idea for this here “topic-starved” blog. What sports that aren’t currently in the Olympics should be? And conversely, which ones that are, shouldn’t be? I’m open for all suggestions. Golf, water-skiing, or the aforementioned beer pong. What do you think?

And hey, do you think Scott Boras has ever said, “I will not rest until I have you holding a Coke, wearing your own shoe, playing a Sega game featuring you, while singing your own song in a new commercial, starring you, broadcast during the Super Bowl, in a game that you are winning, and I will not sleep until that happens”

Because I think he might have.

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Happy Days Are Here Again!

David Ortiz would like you all to know that today is Truck Day and that he’s gonna take care of things, baby, so don’t you worry.

Jason Varitek would like you to know that pitchers and catchers report in ten days and he’s been spending the offseason organizing his notes into color coded Trapper Keepers with handy, dandy Velcro binding. (The Yankees one is clearly sparkly and pink). And also refilling Matty’s allergy meds.

Manny would like you to know that his favorite color is yellow and duckies say “moo.”

Theo would like you to know that there are not now, nor were there ever, any problems in the front office and he’ll thank you to mind your own business except for when Trauser is playing because then you should totally come out and see them because Trauser RAWKS!

Johnny Damon would like you to know that he misses you already and please don’t boo him and he’ll try real hard not to be too good for the Yankees and why don’t you love him?

Mike Timlin would like you to know that he’s taken care of Johnny Damon.

The Red Sox would like you to know that baseball will be happening soon.

I think I speak for all of us when I say, thank goodness!

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How Can We Miss You…

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…if you won’t go away?

Actually, I don’t really want to miss you. I just want you to go away.

Let it go, JD. We already have.

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How Long Until Baseball Season Again?

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Kitty feels me.

Things we learned during Super Bowl XL:

* Jerome Bettis is from Detroit. (I know!)
* The NFL really needs to work on this whole “officiating” thing.
* John Madden has apparently made it through an entire broadcasting career without drawing crude anatomical drawings with the Telestrator. Frankly, I don’t think I would have made it past three games.
* Jerome Bettis’s mama loves him.
* Tom Brady is pretty.
*Peyton, Eli and Archie Manning are in the football equivalent of the Witness Protection Program.
* Ben Roethlisberger is, uh, well, he ain’t that smart, folks. We’ll leave it at that.
* No matter how far modern technology and marketing have come, the best way to sell your products is still to put big boobs in the commercials.
* Or horses. People seem to like horses.
* Bill Cowher is the world’s most terrifying human and I could have happily lived my whole life without ever seeing him kiss ANYONE.
* The Stones no longer cheat death. They now openly mock it and refer to it as “their bitch.”
* Stevie Wonder’s suit could comfortably double as a penthouse for the teeny, tiny, weepy Hines Ward.
* Jerome Bettis will no longer play football.
* This Super Bowl was intensely boring and underwhelming.

Look, it’s like this: I really thought I could be neutral, watching with friends who are Steelers fans and all. But then the Steelers started winning and all the calls started going their way and my Pats fan sensibilities came to the forefront and I thought, “Oh my god, I really and truly hate the Steelers.”

Can’t teach an old dog new tricks and apparently you can’t teach a dyed in the wool Pats fan to cheer for the Steelers. I’m happy for my friends who are Steelers fans because they’re good people and it’s always nice when good people are happy. But as a Pats fan…I just can’t get behind that. And I justify it this way: The Pats and the Steelers have turned into quite a rivalry over the past few years (pretty sure the Steelers still can’t beat us, actually,) so I’ve spent my football-viewing life cheering against them. It’s hard to turn on a dime like that. That and, I’d bet money that if it had been the Pats vying for another championship, Sebastian, Katherine and the lot of ’em would NOT have been cheering for the Patriots.

So, that’s that. Like I said, decidedly underwhelming. However, there were a few comments worth sharing:

An unidentified viewer upon watching Hines Ward hold the Lombardi Trophy in one hand and his son in the other: “Hey, Hines, if there were an emergency situation and you had to make a break for it, which one gets saved? Trophy or baby?”

Amy, after nearly every commercial, 90% of which made no sense and/or could have been Mark Bellhorn’s Marketing 101 final at THC University: “Am I high? Seriously. Are we all high?”

My brother after I complained about the fact that Roethlisberger having a Super Bowl ring makes me sick to my stomach considering that he’s easily one of the five dumbest humans alive: “He’s a football player. They’re lucky if they can even say their names, let alone spell them. And with a name like ‘Roethlisberger’ he must have been the valedictorian of the ‘Fundamentals of Golf’ class he took at Miami of Ohio.”

So there you have it. Another Super Bowl in the books. Yawn. I haven’t the slightest idea what I’ll be doing for the next month as I’m not allowed to watch the Bruins because they evidently hate me personally and they’ll turn on the suck if I watch so much as a face off, Olympic hockey is on at something ridiculous like two in the afternoon and the World Baseball Classic doesn’t start until early March.


If you need me, I’ll be hiding in a bunker somewhere with my copies of Faith Rewarded and 21.

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