Monthly Archives: December 2006

The More Things Change…

In an idea I stole from Beth, I’m recapping this year in sports by reprinting the first line of every month’s final post. (I think she did every month’s first post but I’m urbanizing it yo.) Sometimes it’s more than one line because sometimes, I just don’t make no damn sense. But you already knew that.

January: Don’t look now, but the Bruins have won five of seven and seven of eleven.

February: 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.

: Tonight at 8:30 PM on NESN, “Remdawg Unleashed.” Jerry Remy outtakes. I…is there really anything else that needs to be said?

April: So we decided to try something new last night. Rather than the usual, “Remember how we said we weren’t going to be sucking here, boys? Remember that? You must have heard wrong because what you appear to being doing is the exact opposite of that and SUCKING MIGHTILY!” that we usually throw at the Red Sox when faced with mediocrity, Marianne suggested that perhaps they just needed some positive reinforcement.


June: Since I became one of the approximately twelve billion people to use the Spinal Tap reference in yesterday’s post title, I thought I’d go for the easy joke again and see if I can hit the jackpot twice. Anyway, what more is there to say about this team? They’re pretty freakin’ good, eh? It’s strange that on this extended winning streak, things seem to be going the Sox way. We’re getting the good bounces, getting the calls and, as in the case of Coco accidentally revealing his alternate identity as Spiderman last night, making the plays. I know someone who would not have made that same play and would still have managed to concuss himself on the warning track whereas Coco just popped right back up like a Whack-O-Mole…

July: In the interest of full disclosure, I think it’s only fair to tell you (because The Rick surely will if I don’t) that I was checking the score on Gamecast, watching Miami Ink (my remote is broken, again) and scouring the internets for…stuff because I did not want to watch the Fat Man crash and burn when I heard that Tek went down with a knee injury. Then I made a noise similar to that of a feral cat caught in a garbage disposal. And I began searching frantically for the half-full bottle of tequila and a twisty straw. As such, I did not see Ortiz’s blast. But I’m pretty sure I know what it looked like. You know, having seen it seemingly every other game.

August: Where you’re looking at tonight’s starting pitcher (Julian Tavarez). I figure, at this point, the least we can hope for is that he’ll bite someone for entertainment’s purposes.

September: That’s right kids, it’s nearly hockey season. I can’t be the only one who’s excited, can I? Even if your excitement is based solely on the fact that the Bruins couldn’t POSSIBLY suck more than they did last season, well, that’s something, ain’t it?

October: I’m sorry, I know people are getting tired of the Brady crushing and man-crushing. I know fans of other teams are rolling their eyes. I’m sure you’re sick of it. (Unless you’re a Colts fan, in which case, SHUT IT). But damn, dudes, last night, Tom Brady was better than you. And better than me. And better than everyone. That was a fun football game.

November: In honor of yesterday’s hard fought win over the Bears, it’s time for another installment of “Things You Can Tell About Tom Brady Just By Looking At Him.”

December: In case you were wondering, I’ve JUST NOW started breathing normally after Tom Brady’s BRUSH WITH DEATH on Sunday.

Happy New Year, everyone. Let’s hope for more madness in the future.


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In case you were wondering, I’ve JUST NOW started breathing normally after Tom Brady’s BRUSH WITH DEATH on Sunday.

Thomas, you cannot win football games if you’re dead. And as long as you continue laboring under the misapprehension that you’re speedy, you’ve got a greater shot at dying when speared by an opposing player’s helmet.

I’m sure Matt Cassel is a lovely boy. Doesn’t complain. Loves his momma. Only crosses in the crosswalk and all that. But I do not EVER want to see him leading my football team unless it’s in a game in which said football team is already leading by thirty. Got it? Good.

So now, playoffs. Bring it.

Everyone have a lovely Chrismakuh?

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Good Tidings and Joy

Why don’t I have these? That seems like a gross oversight.

Okay, kids, I’m off to New Hampshire and parts North until Tuesday. Since Santa has already seen fit to bring us a brand new Matsuzaka, I guess I won’t ask for much more from the Sox right now. (Does anyone else think “Tamogochi” when someone says “Matsuzaka?” Like one of those little Japanese virtual pet toys that you had to “feed” and “clothe” to keep alive? And if they “died” it indicated that you were a bad parent? They cost like $17.99 initially but eventually they started giving them away in Happy Meals? No? Just me? I’m just saying, if I start referring to our shiny, new pitcher as “Tamogochi,” you’ll know why.)


If Santa is feeling incredibly generous and wants to bring us some good tidings in the form of a Patriots win over Jacksonville, well, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Gift reindeer? I know Tedy Bruschi wants a win, in addition to a Segway scooter, a foot of snow on Christmas morning and a limited edition Optimus Prime action figure. Kinda makes you love Tedy Bruschi that much more doesn’t it?

Oh, and thanks to all of you who sent wishes for The Rick’s speedy recovery. He’s doing fine and, as he says, will soon be pouring them from both sides of the plate. He’s not taking any of the painkillers which, if you ask me, is a real loss since my dad on painkillers needs to be filmed 24-7 and turned into a reality show immediately.

I’m in and out this week so unless something momumental happens, I won’t be around much until next week. But I wish a Happy Holiday (whichever one you care to choose from the smorgasbord available), to all of you and your families. Thanks for reading, you guys make it worth it. I’m off to look up synonyms for “disrespect” and write a strongly worded letter to the NFL regarding Tom Brady’s Pro Bowl snub. See y’all next year.

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Sugar High

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Annette and I let the Christmas sugar rush go to our heads as we discuss how The Rick’s shoulder surgery will affect the 2007 season.

Me: My dad’s having shoulder surgery right now.

Annette: What the fuck for?

Me: Something to do with impingement or something and a possible rotator cuff injury. Which likely means he won’t be able to jump to the starting rotation until midway through the 2007 season at the earliest.

Annette: Well, then we’re fucked. Completely. Or at least my fantasy team is. I was really counting on The Rick to make a difference for me this year. Especially in the important categories like “Do Wah Ditty” sing-a-longs. That category is worth so many points and he routinely cleans up. Ugh.

Me: I think The Rick will still be available to pinch hit in sing-a-longs in the later innings.

Annette: I don’t question his heart, I just worry about roster availibility and stuff. I mean, there are rules to the DL. At least it’s still the offseason. Winterfest is still a good bit away.

Me: I’ll bet we could hide him on the roster somewhere. Just use him as a bench player. Or keep him in the minors and just bring him up when rosters expand. Or he’ll make an excellent bench coach.

Annette: The Rick is not at that stage of his career. His vocals are still major league ready. And the way he emotes when he performs…unparalleled. Perhaps in a few years, I could see him as a bench coach. But not yet. The injury doesn’t seem career threatening to me at least.

Me: I trust he’ll power through and be back to doing mic tosses and power slides in no time.

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A Day in the Life

New InSite column out. Get inside Laurence Maroney’s head and learn all about Tom Brady’s questionable musical tastes, Vrabel’s hair maintenance campaign and Belichick’s mind melding techniques. But the best part is the asterisk noting that “Laurence Maroney did not contribute to this article.” Imaginary Football World blows up, yo.

Marianne contributed as well.

Pick it up on the street and give it a read.

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Hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar.

Okay, full disclosure. I slept through yesterday’s Patriots’ game. It’s not my fault! I’d just gotten off a plane after a weekend of 48 hours of rock star insanity with only about 90 minutes of sleep (no lie). I just passed out and woke up to the sounds of Belichick’s press conference, talking about “good execution” but how the team could “always do better.” Took me a minute to realize they’d won.

Anyway, on Thursday, I did manage to catch the Bruins’ game while at my brother’s house and I have to say, aside from the actual game where the Bruins laid the smack down on the Devils, the best part of the game was undoubtedly the introduction of Matsuzaka at the TD BankNorth GardenThingie. Decked out in a #18 Bruins jersey, Matsuzaka trotted out on the carpet and dropped the ceremonial first puck. Then he and 6’9″ Bruins’ captain Zdeno Chara stared at each other like two totally different species, wondering what to make of each other. They sniffed and stared and likely would have circled each other warily had the game not started.

I do have to wonder if poor Matsuzaka, fresh off an airplane where he was evidently kidnapped by Theo and co. was a tad bit confused when he showed up at the Garden and was given a hockey jersey to wear. “Um,” I can imagine him saying to his translator, “This is not the sport I play.” And then attempting to throw a gyro-puck. On second though, perhaps the Bruins could use him.

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"I’m big in Japan." – Theo Epstein

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Okay, I totally made that quote up. Except that I’m pretty sure it happened. Either way, Theo is HAMMERED on Sake bombs right now. Doing karaoke on the plane to “Turning Japanese” and calling John Henry a pussy for drinking un-spiked green tea. At one point, over Tokyo, Theo demanded that everyone on board refer to him as “Theo-zilla” for the duration of the flight and Tom Werner is breathing into a paper bag between gulps of, “That’s a lot of money. That’s an awful lot of money.”

Theo has also drunk-dialed Brian Cashman at least once and said, “You thought I had balls of steel when I traded Nomar. But now I’ve landed the DICE-Man!”

Curt Schilling, who has been learning Japanese and Jason Varitek, who feels that the universal language of baseball will suffice, greeted the plane at Hanscom Air Force Base in traditional samurai garb. Schilling then read a haiku he had composed for the occasion.

We welcome you to Boston
Now throw all the strikes

So basically what we’re saying is that Marianne and I need to stop drinking so much on weeknights.

Additionally, Mirabelli is back. And while that might make my brother happy, “Sweet, at least they’re locking up all the essential players,” he said, I figure it’s a case of the evil you know vs. the evil you don’t know. Or do we all want to re-live the Josh Bard Experiment?

And Gabe Kapler, aka The Hebrew Hammer, has opted for retirement instead of free agency. Kapler will remain with the organization as the manager of the Sox’ Single A affiliate Greenville Drive in the South Atlantic League. Personally, I’m stoked that Kapler will still be in the Sox organization and I think he’ll make a terrific manager. He’s always been the kind of player that was never the best at his position, but as such, has always worked hard and has always understood the importance of learning proper technique and work ethic. Plus, it’s kind of flattering that he wants to be a part of the organization enough to take the managing job. Also, I think he’s a good person to have around to keep an eye on Julio Lugo. Just ’cause.

So apparently the Jewish Santa Claus, in the person of Theo Epstein (aided by John Henry’s money) has brought us a Japanese ace for Christmas. And he appears to have done it on his terms. Now, as I’ve been saying, I view prospects and politicians in the same way. It’s exciting and we’re promised a whole hell of a lot, but you’re gonna need to show me something before I throw you a parade. So, Matsuzaka (I refuse to call him “Dice-K” or “D-Mat”), welcome to Boston. Now let’s see what you can do.

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