Milwaukee Brewers v. Oakland A's 3.4.06 Maryvale!

Girlfriend! All the cool kids hang out at Maryvale! My seats were very good (imagine that, being able to get good seats to a Brewers game) if you consider smack behind home plate good. I sort of don't, because you get no view of the batter.

What you do get to see is a whole lotta pitcher! And I couldn't help but notice the long, leggy Barry Zito prancing around the outfield, warming up and preening...well, stretching, but come on.

The best part was Ben Sheets. I have never gotten to see him pitch before and I was not aware of how freaking huge and ugly he is. He only pitched two innings, but it was awesome. If I had to face him and his extreme pitcher face, I would pee my pants.

The A's lost again, 9-7, but Sausage Race! They Sausage raced! And guess how much the ATM fee was? Four dollars! FOUR DOLLARS!! And for beer, it's Miller or... Miller.

Thanks, Maryvale!

Jolines!

I want to be the girl with the Big Giant Trot Nixon Head on my car, consarn it!

Fuck Panera Bread.

And while we're at it, fuck the Christmas Tree Shop.

Yes, I know Panera bread is delicious. I know. You've told me. Your mom told me. I get it. I'm sure I'd love it, too, if I ate there. Yes, I'm being anti and contrarian. It's what I do.

But guess what? I'm not going. You'd have a better shot at finding me in Niketown or Abercrombie or BJ's or something.

Arizona is experiencing an unprecedented population explosion. Have you seen the metro Phoenix area lately? Well, you don't wanna. And the planned communities... I saw an ad in their Sunday paper for an exciting new family-oriented planned community that had... get this... a "Main Street"! Perfect for ice cream and evening strolls and wrought-iron trash cans and fake gas lamps! How freaking white is that? Hey, here's an idea... you already HAVE a Main Street! Oh, I'm sure it's not as CLEAN as the fake one and there may be some unwashed low-income people meandering around but hey! Embrace a non-climate controlled life once in a blue!

And fuck Panera Bread!

when i come around

If I remember correctly, I told about 60 people last night that I had just seen Papelbon strike out Johnny Damon. This morning I discovered it was the other blonde giant, Mike Timlin. Whoops, my bass!

It's funny how, for the most part, I don't give a rat's ass about Damon getting his hair did and going to NYC. At least until I see him batting against Boston and my corpuscles implode. But again, I'm not so much a Boston Red Sox fan as I am a Pawtucket Red Sox fan these days... and not even that, because I like baseball a little too much and love attending miscellaneous minor league games in which I have no stake in who wins. I just like to see some new people.

When I was a ked I thought the Pawtucket Red Sox were just some guys playing ball, guys from Pawtucket. What did I know? And now, how I wish they were an untethered team that I could just root for and know they were a real team instead of a development farm / waiting room / dying player hospice! I posted about this before. It's like, Boston is saying, "Hey, I noticed it's still possible that you guys could win the division... but pardon us while we take half of your starting rotation and a couple of infielders that we may use as pinch runners. Please enjoy the conversion of Malaska to starter!" (That worked. Bad example.)

When I went to see the Worcester Tornados I was surprised to see that a lot of the players were local folks. I was also a little pissed that I bought some of the more expensive seats for no reason... the damn park is so small it's not even worth it. It's like when you pay for top tier seats and find out you're just one row in front of the cheapies!

I am delighted and intrigued by the shoddy Red Sox spring performance. I think there's something neat about a hapless, hopeless team stumbling through a season. Like Cla Meredith having the worst possible experience ever in a major league debut, what can you do but groan and laugh and know things can only get better? I'd be a great Tigers fan!

I'm going to start describing this blog as "visceral". It sounds so much better than "poorly planned and haphazard".

The Morning After

Mound of Pain

As much as I maligned Bronson Arroyo, I derive no joy from his exit. Although it is so awful that it borders on hilarious, I feel a little bad for that skinny bitch. Boston was his world! He was buying an apartment! (cough*divorce*cough)

My sister Lucky called me at work last night and she was fabbagasted when I told her the news.

One good thing to come out of this: perhaps Mister B. will be inspired to write some actual songs. Lucky suggested the post title as a good one. How about... Thrown a Curveball? 61 Tears? Crying in the Bullpen? Lenny, Don't Lose That Number?

I'm sorry. I do think he kinda got a raw deal. The Reds. Oh my god.

PS Haven't been around lately because I've been in Massachusetts for most of my waking life. It's unhealthy and ungodly and I swear I'll do better once I disengage myself from the shackles of salaried labor.

If They Mated

I have been unable to see a single game of the WBC. I did have a random dream about Adam Stern BEFORE his ITPHR, but it was not particularly prophetic.

One more thing:


Joe Rogan

plus



Adam Sandler

equals



Our Mister Canada

Keith Foulke, you're my hero.

Sometimes I watch relievers and I think, how can they do this? What kind of freakish mental composition do they have? Because just watching it sometimes gets me all fetal.

I heard Alan Embree say once, "I like it when it's messy." He's also only happy when it rains.

Other times I watch guys like Mike Timlin and Keith Foulke and they look so big and fearless that I kind of almost get it. Mike Timlin who paces in the dugout between innings like a zoo tiger, even in spring training. And Foulkey, who half of the Red Sox fans are probably DYING to see fail.

I remember Foulke getting signed. I was on the way home from Christmas at Fenway and my first look at Schilling when they announced it on the radio. A couple of days later, I heard K.F. refer to his obligatory jersey-donning press conference as a "dog and pony show". I kinda liked that.

I also kinda liked it when he pitched 218 innings in the 2004 post-season. I liked that even when he threw strikes, he'd turn around and say, "Fucking STUPID!" to himself. En fuego! Foulke was not an attractive man but damn, was he hot. For a redneck.

And then, 2005. One of the most horrible things I've ever seen in baseball was Foulke trying to close a game in Texas and giving up hits and pegging Soriano and just coming unglued... wow. Boston soon found out what a bitter, bitter bitch Foulke could be. I thought it was great. God knows that round come noon on Friday, I was tuned into WEEI for the Keith Foulke Show. It was such a break from the usual boring bullshit you hear from MLB'ers.

I'm not optimistic about Keith F's abilities this year, but I do want him to succeed. I'm gonna make a bookmark for him that says "You will be happy".

3.02.06 Cubs v. Oakland A's (HoHoKam, Mesa)

I just wanna preface this by saying I LOVE domestic beer and I occasionally drink it out of a can.

The service staff at HoHoKam all wear these tragic bolo ties with angular chunks of plastic turquoise and they charge 5 bucks for parking. I saw some crazy scalpers as I turned into the park and I got a little nervous because.. okay, you're gonna laugh...I'd forgotten my Cubs tickets. And it was starting to dawn on me that this was their FIRST EVER SPRING TRAINING HOME GAME of the year.

The ticket window woman was thoroughly disgusted by my absent-mindedness but reprinted the tix for me anyway. I started seeing the little old ladies with their weird, homemade Cubs hats and Cubs seat cushions and hardy midwesterners in their jerseys and tees and with the banners and pom poms and the dirty caps and garsh, I guess I didn't fully anticipate the Chicago-ness in the middle of the desert. I may have been the only A's fan present.

Here's who pitched for the Cubs: Zambrano! Then Dempster! Then a lot of guys I've never heard of before, 'cept for Bobby "Bob" Howry, who has a habit of suddenly appearing in some AL Central team's bullpen and reminding me that he exists.

Danny "Dan" Haren started for Oakland. Also pitching: Saarloos, Street, and Witosek. And some other guys. Haren got roughed up and the Cubs led by 5 runs but then Oakland came back against the hapless... I'm guessing Khoury, although I don't even know if that's how you spell his name. His number was 99, so.

And here's the thing. I know it's spring training and they probably levy fines against overzealous High-A kids who tie up the game in the 9th, but I have never seen a play so blatantly botched in order to end the game. Oakland had an out at home to end the inning, but instead the infielder looked that way, spun around, and tried for the runner on the way to 3rd. Um, no. Of course the Cubs runner crossed the plate and got the winning run in and everybody left the field for showers and strippers or whatever those jockos do.

Player Notes: Uncle Todd Walker! Unproductive at the plate, but, hey! Todd Walker!

Huston Street signed a lotta lotta autographs. He also had way too many activist ribbon pins on his warmup pullover.

Felix Pie came into the game in the 8th and POW! Hits a triple. Like that! It was so cool...

Witosek and Ron Flores apparantly walked out the front door like I did. Flores didn't even bother changing out of his uniform, except shoes-wise. He carried his cleats in his hand and no one even noticed a couple of A's pitchers just kind of moseying through the parking lot.

Concessions: Lucky best hot dog toppings. Jalapenos, sauerkraut, onions... lovely. I bought an "Old Style" beer from the vendor because it looked so so classic. He gave me his card because he is a famous beer vendor. Okay. Is that what they drink at Wrigley? Old Style?

I love Trot Nixon and I would just die if he left. I proclaim this to be The Year of Trot. For me.

Whither Mike Cubbage?

Excuse me, but I am watching my first ST game of the year and Remy is already making me laugh by asking DO if he knows who "Kojo" is.

I was thinking about writing extensively about each game I attended in Arizona but I don't think I want to do that. I was planning on taking copious notes and assiduously scoring each game but it's really freaking hard when all you wanna do is sit in the sun and drink beer and admire, admire, admire.

A few people have asked me if I liked Cactus League better than Grapefruit League. I don't know, they're different. Cactus League seems more.. cohesive. Like you read the sports section and every day there're charts, graphs, and updates on every single team and directions to all the parks.

In Florida, the other teams get a passing mention, possibly a box score.

Sean McAdam had a really nice article on Gabe Kapler. I'm not just saying that because of my ardent, unrequited love for S.A. I should link to it, but you've probably read it already.

It's coming. Oh yes.

I know you're out there, you're just out of sight.

Oh my god!

I have so much I want to post now but I can't, I have to go to work, and how bad do I want to skip it because there's some prelim BP today and tomorrow and I have to work all weekend? And the sun is out?

Why can't I be unemployed? Christ. I just got back from vacation and I hate work more than ever.

Oh my GOD!!!

I've been here for years?

Okay, I'm back now. Man, this team looks horseshit.

I couldn't glean much information considering I had no TV, no radio, no phone, but here's what I got out there:

Kirby Puckett. Pokey Reese flakes off, gets canned. Manny showed up.

And then I get back and I'd say the funniest thing that happened was Flaherty bailing out. I can't blame him. The man just couldn't handle the dancer.

One quick thing: seeing Doug Mirabelli in a Padres uniform was much harder than I thought it would be. I don't know, I just loved Mirabelli.

Manny dice "en Toronto"

Will Carroll says the BJ's are NO THREAT in spite of their noteworthy upgrades. He also says RBIs are worthless statistics, but they are included in Baseball Prospectus '06 due to popular demand.

I swear that's all for tonight.

we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life

I was listening to sports radio today at work (not EEI) and for some reason, the topic was America's waning interest in baseball. Like everything else, I have various unpopular opinions about the reasons why, but I won't get into them. The guys on the radio (Providence) talked about choosing teams while on the bus ride home from school and playing til it was dark or suppertime and the furor and fever of it all.

I never played baseball as a kid. My sole experiences with a bat and glove were the occasional foray into gym class softball and I don't really remember "getting on base" or "catching the ball".

Last year, for reasons I can't recall, my sister and I went and bought a Louisvile slugger and invented a crude baseball-type game called "Texas Ten-Pitch". Something about flinging a ball around after supper caught on with various hangabouts and people started getting their gloves out. I soon came to the conclusion that I threw like a girl. This revelation was aided by my friends and family pointing out that I was not throwing the ball properly. So in a way, ridicule and derision helped me greatly.

Then one day my friend Kayla said, "We should play baseball." And a small number of us would go out to an empty field and do basic drills: hitting, fielding, pitching, etc. Not enough of us to form teams or anything, but damn. It was good stuff.

And so we spread the word. More and more people started showing up. Gloves were dusted off. Bruises were proudly displayed. We were able to do split squad games. Positions were assigned, shifts were put on, post-game margaritas were consumed. On a couple of occasions, we had opponents.

There was something SO GOOD about changing into shorts, sneakers, and a t-shirt in the bathroom at work and hauling ass down to the field to get a little warm-up time in. And you know what? I have NO BUSINESS playing baseball. Ask anyone. I'm pathetic.

But there we were, a bunch of adults with various levels of ability prancing around on Tuesdays and Fridays until it got too dark to see the ball. And we were so into it. Our ranks fluctuated and eventually died out completely, but we played as long as we could.

I don't know when we're starting up again, and we're down a few members, but spring's coming (I think) and I can't wait.

So as far as baseball's waning popularity... I'm sorry, I was too busy turning this conversation back to myself. Kids like basketball now. The End.

stop, drop, kaboom

Almost every morning on the way to work, I stop at the newspaper box to pick up the ProJo. Mainly because of my most secret, hidden love for Sean McAdam.

Recently something changed. The newspaper box no longer takes nickels. You have no idea how irrationally angry this makes me. It's either five dimes or two quarters now. WHAT IS THE PROBLEM WITH NICKELS? How could they do this? It's hard enough to scrape up fifty cents in change every morning, let alone trying to do it with a no-nickel handicap. Do I blame the Journal for this? That is some fucked up, repugnant shit! That is a FALSITY!!!

By the way... tomorrow. Yeah.

Arrivederci, Petagine?

Roberto Petagine DFA'd. Word on the street is that he'll probably go back to Japan and climb back into his megastar saddle. I'd like to see him as a spring training invitee, not necessarily for Boston. Boston very seldom does what I want them to do, which is why they won't win the division OR the wild card this year.

What do I say? RP got a raw deal, thanks to a surfeit of first baseman and bench trash. Plus he was so much more worldly than those other kids in Pawtucket. He was definitely one of my favorite AAA guys. I even made my own Petagine t-shirt!

One last thing: The Great Petagine was originally put on the 40-man roster after Manny's collision with... with... oh my god, who was it? Renteria? Anyhoo, Manny had blurred vision for a while and couldn't play.

I'm off like Santino's lingerie!

Peter Frechette smells like teen spirit.

Everybody has that dirty little movie they secretly love. For many, it's Dirty Dancing. For others, it's Die Hard / Bloodsport / Rambo.

None for me, thanks. MY movie is Grease 2. The summer I turned 11, HBO was playing this movie (along with Poltergeist and If You Could See What I Hear) all the freaking time and I ATE IT UP! This was my high school fantasy, what with the boyfriends and satin jackets and the makeup and the bowling and the motorcycles. Has Michelle Pfieffer ever looked more gorgeous? Was Maxwell Caulfield ever more hot, tone deaf, and pouty? And who were those no-name "teenagers" fleshing out the cast, anyway? Adrian Zmed? Maureen Teefy? CHRISTOPHER MCDONALD??

But hang on a sec. Peter Frechette. Who is this guy? Yeah, he played the lanky, practically illiterate horndog T-Bird Louis DiMucci with aplomb, but who cares, right?

Look him up on IMDb.com and check out his resume. A few guest appearances on Law & Order, other small parts... and, whoa! PF is my homeboy! Warwick, RI?! REPRESENT!!

And it only gets better. Look at the production credits and you'll see "Still We Believe: The Boston Red Sox Movie". Circle of life, baby! I don't remember being this bowled over by coincidence since my Squiggy experience.

So in summation, I say, here's to you, Mr. Frechette. Next time I hoist a Gansett it'll be in your honor.

The feeling is Glorious.

What a day! Eliza J. and I decided to go picnicking in our Sunday dresses... we sat under the willows with our bicycles in close sight and ate teacakes and berries. Our modest conversational murmurs were interrupted only by the distant sounds of box turtles and the soft thump of falling crabapples.

Okay, not really. I'm suspended in the suburbs thanks to the relentless yet oddly belgian-lace delicate snowfall. I heard it was also cold outside. I don't know. I'm going to go outside and shovel or walk dogs or something before I turn into a flabby pile of entropic compost.

I miss baseball.

The Kinks sing "Days"

"Thank you for the days,
Those endless days, those sacred days you gave me.
I'm thinking of the days,
I won't forget a single day, believe me.

I bless the light,
I bless the light that lights on you believe me.
And though you're gone,
You're with me every single day, believe me.

Days I'll remember all my life,
Days when you can't see wrong from right.
You took my life,
But then I knew that very soon you'd leave me,
But it's all right,
Now I'm not frightened of this world, believe me.

I wish today could be tomorrow,
The night is dark,
It just brings sorrow anyway."

Heard this song on the way to work today and I got a little emotional. The most embarassing thing about that is how I mentally applied the lyrics and sentiment to the Red Sox.

"Gabe Kapler, will you sign my copy of Valley of the Dolls?"

Alright.

I don't know about you, but at work I'm that one person who is / was Red Sox and baseball obsessed. So I get a lot of, "So, JS, what do you think about Theo? Manny? The new guy, what's-his-name? Are you going to spring training? Are you going to a lot of games?"

Thus far, my answer has been, "I don't know, I don't care, I'm a Devil Rays fan, I only like minor league baseball now." Stuff like that.

Lately, some of my co-workers have been telling me they're getting excited. And guess what? As of 1.31.06, I am getting excited, too. I think it had a lot to do with squeezing Alex Gonzalez into the infield like caulk from a gun. Some of it is also due to getting a pair of seats for the home opener. And hearing news of spring training invitees... Enrique Wilson? I love it!


I am just a big puddle of melted resolve. ON.

"Is that an earthquake? No, it's Rrrramon!"

I just love Ramon Hernandez! Don't you?

Hell, yeah! He's an Oriole now, too. (4 years, $27.5 million) I absolutely believe he is going to have a great year. Think about it: Petco is NOT a hitter's park. I know this because everyone is really mad about the freaking fences.

Loved him on the A's... he caught Mulder and Hudson and Zito in his Cy Young year. I remember seeing Nomar kiss him on the lips as he crossed home plate (running out a long fly). Nomar was crossing home plate, I mean.

And some meaningless '05 statistics:
.290, .322 OBP, 58 RBI, 12 HR

Imagine if we had Hernandez instead of Varitek?

Other things:
Ramon and Miguel Tejada are godfathers to each others' children.

That's all I have for "Other things". But I will say this: Last year when I went to Camden Yards we had breakfast at this place called Burke's. I don't remember the food but the guy that works there? Looked exactly like Harry Caray. Glasses and everything. And it was a fly establishment.

PS Would like to mention one more thing about Oakland: If one were to rank the major league teams in order of hotness... yeah.

Smallpox Champion, US of A

One final thing: I'm going to opening day at the park this year. For as much as I lacerate and vilify the Red Sox, I cannot deny that Opening Day is one of the most fun things a girl can do.

New Britain Rock Cats have sponsors on their uniforms.

Yes, they're sponsored by Harley-Davidson. I went to that park last year during one of my minor league benders. It's very nice.

What I really wanted to say is that Pawtucket's own Jay Rainville was drafted in the 39th round by the Twins last year and guess what? He'll be in AA this year most likely. Probably in relief.

Scout.com says: "Rainville has two plus pitches. He throws a 91-94 MPH sinker, and a power curve that already ranks as one of the best in the organization. He needs to work on his changeup if he wants to stay in the rotation, and if he doesn’t, he will probably be a short reliever. A former National Hockey League prospect, his aggressiveness is what makes him a high ceiling guy. "

So, yay and all of that.

Here comes Geoff Blum.

I remember Geoff Blum from his '04 stint on the Devil Rays. Now the below-average infield utility guy hangs his jock in San Diego! Let's take a quick look.

First things first, he wound up in Tampa Bay because the Astros traded him for Brandon Backe. Wow, that is fucking awesome, Tampa Bay. I didn't know that. Ha.

Between CWS and San Diego last year he only played in 109 games. He pretty much sucked late in the year, batting 241 in 224 plate appearances. Nice .314 OBP, too!

Blum's signed for '06 (650K or so) but he'll be a free agent in '07 at age 34. Baseball Prospectus '05 says he "switch-sucks" equally from both sides of the plate. Bleak!

Alright, GB, good luck in '06. At least you get to see Doug Mirabelli every day.

Shopping is fun! Shop with a buddy!

No, not really. I hate shopping. Unless it's junk shopping, which is how I've mostly comprised my wardrobe.

I LOVED the St. Vincent de Paul's here in CF. It was dirt cheap, crammed with stuff, and undiscovered by any trendy kids. I stopped by this morning to look for summer stuff and the woman that's worked there forever ever told me they'd be closed by the end of Feb. And now what is she going to do? She's fifty-ish with bad knees and no one will hire her. And you do not even know how much I love this sassy, motherly woman... I got a little misty talking to her about the end of it all.

Best thing I got there: about 100 45's, mostly old country like Ferlin Husky, Skeeter Davis and croony stuff like Al Martino and Keely Smith and Nat King Cole. But some seriously crazy obscure tunes. All for the paltry price of five dollars.

The number of stores I can / will shop at keeps dwindling. Pray for me.

Varitek, it was really nothing.

What I heard: That there was a tense, icy silence between Jason and Alex at the All-Star game.

What should have happened: Varitek should have built a little bridge. It would have been healing, perhaps. Something like, "Hey, man. Come on." Manly backslap. God knows A-Rod never would have done it.

Madhouse Cafe

If you find yourself in downtown Pawtucket... okay, unlikely. Rephrase. Hey, when was the last time you actually saw downtown Pawtucket? Go down and check it out now because the Madhouse Cafe finally opened and it's rad. And check out the nice beer selection! I'm going to try every one of them! They have homemade cajun ketchup! Tippecanoe and Tyler, too!

Seriously, get over it. Go to Pawtucket. But don't come to Central Falls. That's MY turf.

That's me in the corner

How about that clean, close New England sunshine yesterday? Did you not love it?

Like many of you, I attended the Pawtucket Hot Stove Party yesterday. Unlike many of you, I got up early for my special day and went to the suddenly baffling and inverted Lincoln Mall and had a special t-shirt made at the T-Shirt City and Sports Mugs of Miscellany Shoppe.

I did sit in for a while on the Manny Delcarmen / Dave Pauley Q&A but found pitching coach Mike Griffin to be much more interesting. Why do all the minor leaguers seem either bored or stoned beyond belief at these things? And I love how everyone laughs politely when the little kids ask questions like, "What's your favorite kind of food?" Ha ha, very funny, motherfucker.

I didn't line up for autographs because I'm not an autograph person and for the most part I'd rather saw my own legs off than make awkward small talk with some jock with an unending thirst for Creed and Coors Lite. I took a few pictures, though, and they're unimpressive.

The best part for me was that a lot of my teammates showed up and we had fun reading the crap on the clubhouse bulletin boards and committing minor acts of theft and vandalism. And I bought tickets for Opening Day and for the 25th Anniversary game.

Final note: Jerry Kapstein was not there.

You'll never walk alone again

Kelly Shoppach's Texas license plate says "SHOP". Only this and nothing more. He also didn't like Buddy Bailey, I heard him say. I had hoped to get more for Kelly S. And I always felt bad that he never got a hit in Boston. Go forth and gunneth down AL Central runners!

In other news, the massive and broad-shouldered Wade Miller signed a one year deal with the Cubs. I saw him rehab in Pawtucket and it was very exciting. Then when he got to Boston he'd invariably find himself in the 4th inning with a pitch count of about 156. I had such high hopes! I'd say good luck but it would be hollow and insincere.

In other news, from my spot in the bleachers, I found Coco Crisp to be absolutely adorable. You want insight, go away and read someone else's blog. Don't you get it?

What the Bran Muffin said

"Kobe Bryant raped a girl and got away with it. Don't ever forget that."

-- the UPS Guy

Every time I turn around I find I'm shot.

Theo's back, and I care... but only a little.

Bronson Arroyo, you stupid, stupid bitch. Hometown discount? Are you freaking kidding me? If I have to see him strumming that stupid guitar with the junior high collage of alterna-grunge stickers all summer long, I don't know what! Why can't I get an Arroyo ERA for left / right splits? Is that a stupid question? How come all the leftover Red Sox shirts at Bob's are either Arroyo or Clement?

This guy needs to make me love him all over again.

I'm ashamed to admit that I don't think I've ever heard of Willie Harris before. He's listed in BP as a 2B/CF (weird). And he's short. And he's "almost a very valuable ballplayer". Rarely hits the ball out of the infield. You know what? This will be Shorty's breakout year! I love him already! Pass the Courvoisier!

Tim Bausher DFA'd

I have nothing more to add to that. He's no longer on the 40-man, but it's not like they ever intended on using him.

So let's hope I get to see him in Pawtucket, because gosh, he's handsome. And no good pictures exist of him on the internet, so I'll have to make my own. Preferably not with man-sandals on.

Jarrod Washburn and John Lackey

Washburn! 2005 - 8-8, 3.20 , 94 K's, 51 walks
Signed with the Mariners for 4 (!) years, $37.5 million. Whoa.



John Lackey!
2005: 14-5, 3.44 , 199 K's, 71 walks
Lackey and the Angels agreed to a $3.76 million, one-year contract. Also, John Boy was CRAZY after the all-star break and went 8-1. Plus he's 4 years younger than Jarrod Washburn.

The winner: John Lackey!

Denney Tomori: no relation to Conan's crazy,egg-laying ostrich

I don't know if you remember ST invitee Denney Tomori? Well, he never made it past Pawtucket. He was that not-terribly-effective righty sidearmish guy. Chose to put his first name instead of his last name on his uniform. (I had to laugh imagine Millar's uniform saying "KEVIN" on the back.)

He's on the Chunichi Dragons now and hoping to tear it up in Japan. I seem to remember "Denney" being his last name at one time, and then he discovered his father wasn't really his father or something and changing his name to Yui Denney Tomori. Or maybe I dreamed all that.

In other news, former PawSox announcer guy Andy Freed has been the announcer guy for Tampa Bay for a couple of years now. He brought up an interesting point: franchises who say the Devil Rays management is "difficult" are really just perturbed because the D-Rays aren't leaping into the deals offered to them heedlessly. I mean, they're just the Devil Rays! It's not like they need good players or anything! Do they think they're contenders or something? Anyhoo, Andy F. has himself a littleweb page. Go, team, go!

Blatant rip-offery

So the other day I started buying my CACTUS LEAGUE SPRING TRAINING 2006 tickets and discovered that fucking MLB is engaging in some serious gougery. I reluctantly paid the $3-ish per ticket "service charge", but now they charge another $3.50 for USPS mailing? Again, I KINDA get it... however, I noticed that THEY WOULD STILL CHARGE YOU A FEE IF YOU JUST WALK UP TO THE WILL-CALL WINDOW YOURSELF!!!

So the only POSSIBLE way to not pay all these crap charges is to pre-fly out to AZ or whatever and buy them at the box office. Okay.

I sense that you're disgusted. It gets somewhat better.

When I went to buy Padres tickets, I noticed that in order to get them online, you have to go through Ticketmaster. And you know how I feel about Ticketmaster. So I didn't buy them, but I drove everyone I know batshit by asking them what THEY would do in my shoes. Would they just buy the tickets and get the nice seats ahead of time and not worry about it, or would they say 'NO, TICKETMASTER, YOU ARE NOT GETTING MY MONEY!!!' and buy the tickets when they got to AZ?

I called the box office over there in Peoria, AZ and the woman said that the game I was interested in was kind of a high attendance matchup and while she'd never known a game to sell out, I might be stuck with bad seats.

I came pretty close to just saying, screw it, and giving big bad Ticketmaster my bidness. But then I had an idea... I posted a little ad on craigslist.com asking for a volunteer to buy the tickets for me. Long shot, right? I mean, what the hell could be in it for them?

Ladies and gents, I got 4 responses from people who were willing to work something out. The most promising e-mail came from a man in Phoenix who said he'd do it, but that he'd like some authentic Harvard gear in exchange.

So that's what I'm doing. I'll be mailing out the Harvard gear and the dude in Arizona will be buying my tickets. Smash the state! And eff you, Ticketmaster!

I had a dream I was a vigilante's sidekick.

I am not the only one that has dreams about major league baseball players. Just wanted to preface the following with that. Lots of ladies and gents, normal and not, working functioning members of society dream about MLB'ers. Just sayin.

Last night I had a lengthy dream about Bill Mueller. The part I find worth mentioning most? Bill Mueller, in the off-season, has a second job as... an astronaut. And I am understandably incredulous about this and keep asking him about it.


But you know Bill M. and how freaking modest he is. Just shrugs it off. It's really nothing. Is that not awesome?

Someone in the club tonight has stolen my ideas.

I'm sorry, New England, but I don't care about the Patriots.

I see all your yard flags and inflatable wide receivers and embroidered lap blankets and it just makes me miss baseball.

Oh, I know a few things. I know Tom Brady is a good quarterback /Gap model and that the coach ( Bill B. ) is known for being laconic and robotic and atomic and Willie McGinest is classy and am I even spelling these names right? I've seen Doug Flutie at Fenway catching foul balls and being way too delighted about it. And Bruschi... the guy who had the stroke but came back and made everyone get worried. New England, you really do love your Bruschi.

Yes, I understand that baseball is really boring compared to football. I know that football is intense and exciting and that every game is so, so crucial. I know that football players don't leave the game EVER, not even if their ankles are broken, not if their children burst into flames and perish in the stands, not if their guts are torn open and their cleats get tangled in their large intestines. Your commercial interruptions are much more glamorous than Marty, the Number One Man from USRV. Your culinary accoutrements completely dwarf the steamed hot dogs and domestic beer that usually accompany baseball watching. I get it, New England. I really do.

And, Lord, have I tried. I locked myself onto the sofa and ate six kinds of wings and stared at the TV and tried real real hard to understand the implications of "HUT HUT " followed by a shrill whistle. It's complicated, New England. I'm too dim to keep track of referee hand signals and flags and positions and x's and o's. For that, I am truly sorry.

I know what you're going to say: I just need to watch more games and get into it. Did you not just read the above paragraph? I TRIED that. Listen to me. I only like baseball. It takes up a lot of my time. I resent the time football takes up on the radio, even though there's ABSOLUTELY NOTHING GOING ON IN BASEBALL RIGHT NOW. Why can't they just play 24 hours of Tim Wakefield's Top Games Versus the AL Central?

I wonder what Tim Wakefield's doing right now?

Where have the good times gone?

This was my first opening day. Rained out. I miss Pedro games.

I blame Max Perlow for this.

Have y'all head the rumor about Hazel Mae and Terry Francona? So crazy it has to be true or file under Pop Rocks and Mikey?

At any rate, there will no longer be Friday night baseball on channel 38. NESN will be broadcasting ALL BOS games, screw everyone and have a good night. I don't even get that station and I'm pissed.

And for those of you who bitch about Hazel Mae and complain that she doesn't know shit about sports? Okay. Like Paul Fucking Devlin and his Freakishly Square Head is so smart.

So Manny suddenly wants to stay in Boston? What kind of concession did the guys upstairs make? He probably already has the best parking spot in that cramped 4x4 parking lot. Was it money? I doubt it. It's some kind of perk / arrangement. Bullshit, at any rate.

Nice purse, B.

Bronson and Lenny, meet Brandon and Dylan.



Bronson Arroyo is SO the Brandon Walsh. Pasty, annoying, unfun. DiNardo is Dylan all the way.

cankers and medallions

As of 1.1.06, there is no longer a McDonald's here in CF.

The Only Living Blogger in Central Falls

Well, I kept my eyes peeled at O'Hare and I saw a celebrity. You won't ever guess who. Not an actor, not a musician, not an athlete.

It was weird! He looked sort of shabby and frail and thin. I looked into his face in amazement as he walked by me, just trying to prove to myself that I was wrong. And I turned and watched him keep walking in his ill-fitting suit and World Series '05 jacket and worn, leather hat. He sat across from me with his assistant / bodyguard and a couple of people approached him and shook his hand. Wow!

And how many times am I gonna shout, "Get back, Loretta!" this summer? Argh.

I Heart Huckaby

Okay, so BOS has agreed to a minor league deal with Ken "Crash" Huckaby. This gives us Varitek, Flaherty, AND Huckaby, AND Shoppach? Okay, seriously, they'd better have something huge planned for Shoppach. Dumbasses.

Perhaps you all remember early, early '03 when Derek Jeter mangled his shoulder or elbow (whatevs) when Ken H. was blocking home plate and Deej slid right into him. At the time, I found this sort of funny.

I have acheived a modicum of baseball maturity since then, but I still enjoyed the story of Huck going up to Jeter and offering a sincere apology for the whole DL-dislocation-collision thing.

What Jeter should have said: "Hey, no problem, man!"

What he did say: Nothing. He ignored Huckaby, walked away. Nada. Poor Ken.

I can't remember if I mentioned this, but Dennis "Mark" Malaska is returning to the city by the bay. By that I mean Tampa. I wonder if this is some kind of Rule 5 thing? I'm not looking it up. This is a Neo-Impressionist baseball blog! Other people are doing this better and more thoroughly, so go read THEIR blogs! GOD!

Rootin' Tootin' Wooten!

from Rotoworld:

Twins signed catcher-infielder Shawn Wooten to a minor league contract.Wooten, 33, hit .267/.329/.433 for Triple-A Pawtucket last season. He can serve as a third catcher just like Matthew LeCroy used to, but he wouldn't be as good of an option as a DH or first baseman against left-handers. He probably won't make the team.

Side note: I love Matt LeCroy.

Shawn Wooten was another good guy. He's got a ring from his stint with the Angels. God, how we loved that team! That was a great WS, over there in '02.

So long, Figgy

The Toronto Blue Jays have announced that they have signed infielder Luis Figueroa, 31, to a Minor League contract. He's also gonna be hanging around the ST camp this March after he's done with Puerto Rican winter ball.

He played in 109 games for Pawtucket in '05, hitting .289 with 22 doubles, seven home runs and 48 runs batted in. He has led the International League in strikeouts to total plate appearances the last two seasons, striking out just once every 15.69 plate appearances in 2005 and once per every 17.42 plate appearances in 2004.

Figueroa was originally signed by the Pittsburgh Pirates as a non-drafted free agent in March of 1997. He appeared in eight Major League games in 2001, four with the New York Mets and four with the Pittsburgh Pirates.

I got most of this from the Syracuse Sky Chiefs web page. You know what else is fun? Calling the Sky Chiefs the "Sky Chefs".

Figgy was a zippy little feller and a wicked nice guy. Besto!

Iowaaah waah waah

All my flights are leaving on time in spite of the questionable weather.

I didn't really approve of the string of made-up holidays fucking with my shit, but it's over and I can finally get some cash!

By the way, we hit this crazy, dirty little bowling alley last night for some ten-pin and sympathy. It was called 20th Century Bowling and you MUST see my pictures of it.

Thank you everyone, thank you Ames, see you at home!

Why oh whyowa?

Rum.

Rum with... Sprite? Me? Yes. Please don't tell anyone I was drinking rum and Sprite on NYE while watching Stuart Scott in a bar called Whiskey River.

The funny thing is I almost believed that Tejada had come to town in a crazy, Phyrric trade.

Know what else is funny? I dropped my zippy license and cash thing somewhere and no one stole it. It was on the floor near the bar and NO ONE STOLE IT. How the hell could I even fly home with no ID? But it doesn't matter because NO ONE STOLE MY GEAR!

I'm going to "Gilbert" tomorrow! I see hash browns and scones in my future. Possibly more spastic camera work and Facts About Dave Roberts.

hey guys i'm in iowa

It's sweet, dirty New Year's Eve and, yeah yeah, YEAH FUCKIN YEAH I'm in Iowa.

I only wish I'd started a travel journal, as airport magazines and Eurosuits stimulate my brain and make me smart and interesting all over again. Downtown Ames has stolen my heart with its bicycle shops and buffalo head bars.

Do you know what the message board kids did? They all each picked out two songs and sent them to one guy, one point guy in Idaho and he assembled them onto three CDs which have been my constant companions on the less-loud jets. In fact, as I made myself a nice fried egg sandwich after my shower in Lucky's apartment, I fired up disc 3 for a truly glorious grey midwestern morning. Hash browns not home fries? Well, we'll just see about that. As Mr. Ricky Martin once said, Viva la Musica.

Baseball thoughts this morning: I had a dream I was on a charter bus and Kyle Farnsworth was in front of me with still-wet hair. And many other passengers were AAA level Minnesota Twins, as in, Rah-Rah-Rochester.

Beyond that, Kevin Millar is broken hearted, Texas blew it all over Millwood, and I'll surely be running into Mark Bellhorn in Arizona.

So long, '05. Is there a more depressing holiday than this?

Dude, am I crazy or is that Jim Conner on the left?

The Scorpions

Have I been away this long? I feel so stupid.

In many ways, I'm back. I'm going to refrain from commenting on beisbol at this point.

Except I'm really going to miss Doug Mirabelli.

I'm thanking Jerry Kapstein in my liner notes.

This Hanley Ramirez picture (which looks like total crap here) was given to me by Bob from work. It says "to Jim" on it, even though my name is Jen. Apparantly he has trouble hearing. Anyway, it's from the Pawsox Hot Stove day this past January. I didn't line up for a Hanley autograph, so Bob did it for me. My friend Kayla and I watched from the sidelines and it was great. Also, Kelly Shoppach was totally drunk during his Q&A. Classic.

The best part is that the ubiquitous Jerry Kapstein is in the background of the Polaroid. I saw him there that day and I couldn't believe it. I was reading the Don Baylor book and he gets mentioned in that one ( he was a superagent at the time ). He has popped up in several baseball types of books I've read. And everybody loves him, myself included.

One more thing: I have a real problem with the Pawsox web site. You would think they'd have news regarding their 2005 roster... like, say, Juan Perez going to the Mets. I find it reprehensible that there is absolutely nothing there in the way of team updates! Dare me to e-mail them and say that? I think I will!

Juan Perez signed by Mets

From Mets.com via the Mets Geek blog:
The New York Mets today added five players to their 40-man winter roster: Righthanded pitchers Brian Bannister, Anderson Garcia, Henry Owens and Yusmeiro Petit, and lefthanded pitcher Juan Perez. In addition, the Mets outrighted outfielders Ambiorix Concepcion and Todd Self to Norfolk (AAA) of the International League.
Perez, 27, signed a minor league contract with the Mets on October 28th after spending the 2005 season with Pawtucket (AAA) of the International League in the Boston Red Sox organization. In 40 games, he was 4-5 with a 4.50 ERA (31 earned runs in 62.0 innings pitched) with one save.

I'll have to go back and look at some old scorecards and see if I can find any great pitching performances by J.P. I heard he was a nice guy, great with the kids, etc. Best O' Luck, Juan! Have fun in NY!

PS: Trying to find a picture of Juan Perez the baseball player is like trying to find a Mike Johnson that works in insurance.

"My Wife Loves Kapler"

There's a thread on theremyreport.com entitled "My Wife Loves Kapler" which is mostly page after page of Red Sox player / personnel photos accompanied by admiring (and sometimes lecherous) comments by females. I'm not condemning it at all - how could I slag it when I have been through several pages of it and added some of the better photos to my own desktop folder? If you harbor secret, dirty thoughts about Alex Cora or have ever called Adam Hyzdu "Hyzdu-Me" or maybe wanna see what kind of car Trot Nixon goes to the park in, I suggest you check it out.

There're a few pictures of our late great GM T. Epstein. He's not cute. I never thought he was cute. He's a dork who has committed several fashion offenses which include:

1. overuse of hair gel
2. wearing the same ugly polo shirt through half of spring training
3. wearing what is commonly known as a "mock turtleneck"

And strapping on a guitar with your crappy band at HS/CM and hanging out with Bill Janovitz? Okay. We all know you're BFF with Eddie Vedder, Theo, but you are and always will be a Yalie suit.

Buying Red Sox tickets from a scalper

I used to buy tickets from scalpers pretty regularly. Now, I would only do it as an absolute last resort. I either a) use other means ( and there are many ) or b) watch the game on TV because I don't give a shit anymore.

I am going to pass on a few words of wisdom: scalpers are not your friends. Sure, they may call you 'buddy' or 'kiddo', but don't think for one minute they're not gonna try and sell you seats inside a stainless steel freezer unit for $350.

If you're seriously gonna buy the tickets from some red-faced guy in windpants with a gold chain as thick as my arm, consider the following:

1. Make sure the date is correct on the tickets
2. Make sure the seats are together, as in, "the same row" or "not separated by five sections"
3. Watch the thumbs! When Shady McScrubberson is showing you the sweet, sweet Yankees tickets, he may be hiding the "OBSTRUCTED VIEW" part of the ticket with his big fat thumb!
4. You CAN haggle a little. Don't be afraid to offer less than what the tickets are being offered for.
5. Ask to see the seating chart or have one with you. THEY ALL CARRY SEATING CHARTS!!! DO NOT JUST ACCEPT HIS WORD THAT THEY'RE 'GOOD SEATS'.
6. "Behind the dugout" is much, much vaster area than you think
7. If the price seems too good to be true...
8. "I'm gonna be honest with you, I'm selling these tickets real cheap because I've been here since 10, I'm tired, I just wanna go home..." LIES!!!!
9. Never,ever buy tickets for the section known as "BENCH".

All of these tips come from experience, and yes, I have been scammed. Teach your children well.

This could be anywhere. This could be everywhere.

I hate when you travel to a different city and you're staying in some motel and you look out the window and there's an interstate, a Burger King, a Home Depot, a parking lot.

I was looking for corresponding pictures for "boredom" on Yahoo and I kept seeing these beautiful pictures of things like parking garages, colorless business offices, potted plants, rental cars, motel room art, beige carpeting, stuff like that. The webpage was crackpot.org but I couldn't access it.

It's disappointing when you get to go to a different city for once and you're faced with the heartbreaking anonymity of shopping plazas and 6 lanes of traffic and no sidewalks. See also: Seekonk, North Attleboro, Warwick.

It's even worse that I work in a place like this.

"Why you so big on that guy?"

Ugh, I hate the way these pictures come out.

Anyway, I could be posting about Golden Gloves and ROYs and Cy Youngs, but if you're relying on this blog for that kind of information and commentary, please put down the bong.

This picture reminds me... in 2004 when the roster photos came out, every guy on the Red Sox had a mole on his neck. And it was like... the mole stayed in one spot while the players' heights and neck length difference made the mole wind up on different parts of the skin. I dunno.

It also reminds me of seeing McCarty pitch in the Red Sox first home game and then months later in their last game of the season in Baltimore.

There's been hardly any baseball news and I'm dying. Also, Sean McAdam never wrote me back. I'm completely crushed.

You're so far away from me

See if you can guess which Red Sox player is circled in this photo.

Jenks Park and Stanley's

Screw it.

I originally only wanted my location to be just "RI", but I gotta represent.

"Well, I'm looking for an apartment... anywhere but CF."

Screw you.

You only wish you could have what I have.

And screw you, CFPD, for taking out your feedback section.

I'm keeping it real.

PS I love the big clock picture in this entry. I used to have a camera and I used to take pictures. See?

Sean Paul and Sheryl Crowe

The worst thing about going to spring training is that once you go, you want to go every year. Forever.

The best thing about ST is everything.


I love this picture from 2005 spring training, which I was unable to attend. I love seeing the kids: Machado, Shoppach... and the AAA guys like Dave "Ice" Berg. I was really, really sad about missing it all. But the whole scalpers with Yankees tickets was a bit much.

Blag is a Skin Poppin' Slut

Last night was the big Dwarves show at the Living Room! And it was great! I forget sometimes how riveting they are live, but when the lights went out I was giddy and excited!

Do you know what happened? HeWhoCannotbeNamed was kicking it old school, what with the wrestling mask and nudity and devilish smile. And he received fellatio right there on stage! And I missed the entire thing!!

Know what else happend ? HeWho mauled the breasts of a young lady that was going berserk up front, sort of making herself part of the show. I guess she was not down with that, because I saw her walking away from the stage, talking on her cell phone. And after the show was over, the cops showed up, trying to get backstage. I think at that point, HeWho had made himself scarce. I don't know if they arrested anyone.

They played "Is There Anybody Out There?" amongst other things. I'm vowing to attend more shows... even if the acts are local and in all likelihood, crappy.

PS Winter beers are here! I bought some Harpoon Winter Warmer and had a couple Winter Hooks at the show. The only thing better that winter beer is summer beer. I'd also like to take this opportunity to tell you that Sam Adams is hardly any better than Coors. I never drink it.

The best of Tele-Times?

On November 15th, the following comment appeared in the Tele-Times section of the Pawtucket Times newspaper:

"... Recently, there were several messages in Tele-Times about the empty rectory on Newport Avenue. The pastor has since announced from the altar that these messages are not true, that he lives in the rectory. I beg to differ. I know he lived in lower Lincoln, on the east side of Lonsdale Avenue, for four or five years. I saw him there three or four times. Then about six months ago, he sold that house and he and his friend moved to Cumberland. I've noticed that since they renovated the church, they've eliminated the confessionals. Maybe the reason being his will take confessions up at his new home in Cumberland. I will take a ride up there, and would love to hear his confession! Recently, the Vatican announced it will not allow any more homosexuals in the priesthood. I wonder what they will do with the ones they have in there now? ..."

The comment is signed "Concerned Parishioner". What it seemingly boils down to is CP alleging that his / her pastor is living in sin with a man.

Well, now Santa Claus is upset. The guy that plays Santa every year to raise money for the Times' Christmas fund was so pissed about the allegation that he wrote a letter in which he stated "I was so offended by the comments that I was going to cancel my appearance...The reason I was going to cancel was because of the enormous lack of judgement on the part of The Times for printing such hurtful and slanderous remarks."

Furthermore, there was a letter that ran simultaneously in the editorial section written by Richard Blockson, general manager of the Times. He writes, in part, "Moving forward, our staff will be ever cognizant of anything that does not comply with our policy, which states 'The Times reminds Tele-Times readers that it will not print lewd, vulgar, or slanderous calls.'"

He does not apologize for printing the contents of the call.

Usually, I find Tele-Times to be hilarious for different reasons. The whole slanderous allegation angle is awesome! You really have to read the entire contents of Santa's letter and its allegations of anti-Catholicism and religious intolerance.

I only hope this doesn't suck the fun and life and crankiness out of Tele-Times.

Mayor Mae Knott

Okay, I'm officially baffled by the "simulated press conference" that's currently on ESPN. A guy named Steve Philips is playing the Astros GM. Tomorrow he'll play the Dodgers GM. I'm assuming this is some kind of recreation of the GM meetings.

And while we're on the subject, how much fun would it be to go to the GM meetings? You think those guys don't PARTY?!

I'm taking the next bus outta here

Well, I couldn't help myself. I bow-wowed my grandmother's dog and took her for a long walk... to the park. Past the park. Had I had an earlier start, I may have taken her to Fenway by way of Brookline and the man-made lake park. But I don't know, I'm kind of bored with Fenway.

One of the minor league teams I saw this year was the New Britain Rock Cats, the Twins' AA affiliate. The weird thing about that was they had a sponsor on their uniforms. This would be the first time I saw ads on jerseys. Very strange. Nice park, though.

McCoy looked great, still and expectant. I'm not big into baseball mystique and romanticism at all. I hated Field of Dreams. But it's killing me to think that they're playing baseball in Arizona RIGHT NOW.

There was a time in my life where if blogs existed, I would have been doing show reviews instead of game summaries and musings. But I'm old now and today's music is just a bunch of screaming and yelling.

There's a little stadium tucked away behind the factory, next to the prison that I've never seen the inside of. It's the real deal.. .scoreboard, lights, bleachers, you know. But every time I went to check it out, nothing was going on and the gates were locked. I think they're playing high school football there these days. A lot of people think this city is disgusting, dangerous, drugged, ugly. And I'm not anti-suburbia for the sake of being an urban snob. But come on. If you can't see the heart and charm and life here, you're stupid.

Next: there's a tiny boxing gym I've seen once, somewhere offa Washington St. It's old and tough and no one knows about it and I so very badly want to peek inside the door and see Mickey and Rock sweating it out.

Dear Doug Mirabelli

I swear this story is true.

2003 ALDS: Boston v Oakland. It was that extra inning game in Oakland. As you all know, those west coast postseason games can kill you. And when it comes to extra innings, forget it.

So I went to bed before the game was over and I swear I woke up from a dream and though, "Oh my god... did Derek Lowe come in as a reliever?"

Sure enough, he had come in. Just like I dreamed. That ALDS damn near killed me... I was fetal when T-Long was at the plate and he was called out looking. Then Lowe said "SUCK IT, OAKLAND" and Tejada had a meltdown over it and "Are you Scott" Hatteburg ended his friendship with sweaty, slutty Derek.

To summarize: Derek Lowe is a sweaty, pothead dirtbag and I never liked him.

Just one more night and I'm coming off this long and winding road

I'm watching Game 3 of the ALCS and having some Molson ( Canadian, of the wacky rear label variety ) and I Fucking Miss Baseball So Much. Just watching Javier Vazquez snap his glove closed on the return toss from Posada and the sweet, springy weather of the past week...

Also, Theo did not renew his contract. I think he wanted more money.

I love how Varitek said he text messaged Theo after he heard the deal had been done.
Probably something like, "Congrats, dude." Because baseball players are stupid and not at all interesting.

I still can't upload pictures for some reason. Thus, the completely drab appearance.