Clement had surgery?

Clement had surgery? On what? Man, I am out of it.

In other news, Mister Assistant Trainer
Chris Correnti
was dismissed and no further information is available. This is a surprise to me and I'm sure people like Nixon and Schilling are not going to be too happy about it.

On the other hand, everybody's favorite sweater-vested leg stretcher is still kicking around. The ladies love you, Jim Rowe.


It would have been a nice night to play baseball.

The Great Petagine

Do you remember Rhode Island Day at Fenway last year? Nah, me neither. Oh, wait... Hey! I was there with sister Lucky! Yes, it's all coming back to me now.

The little yellow anchor was waving proudly as we all saluted Roger Williams and religious freedom and the mighty Narragansett Bay. It was a day game in July, and damned if it wasn't Trading Deadline Day!

Well, we all know what happened that day, don't we? A lot of people were saying, "Oh, the people watching TV at home knew Manny was coming in before the people at the park did." WRONG!! First of all, am I ever at Fenway without binoculars? NO. And from my seat in the bleachers, I could see right into the dugout. Not only that, but this is something a lot of people saw coming very early in the game. I know Lucky and I talked about it. So take your turkey and stuff it.

The night before the game I had wanted to make myself a t-shirt that said FREE PETAGINE. At the time, he was a Venezuelan Brian Daubach ( before the onset of boozehoundery) and mashing hardcore at McCoy. And I loved him. So my mother, knowing I had very little time, offered to pick up some fabric paint for me.

Well, she did. Only it was puffy paint. Yes, I wore my puffy-painted FREE PETAGINE t-shirt that day like any middle schooler! AND I WAS WORKING IT!

Of course, it was not half as cool as being the second "T" in "TROT", but that's a different story for a different day. And I am having a hard time uploading pictures, so you'll have to wait for the bitchin' Japanese portrait of Petagine.

I only wish RP had had a few more PA's, but I understand that first base was crowded at the time. Best o' luck, Roberto.


PS No reply yet from Sean McAdam. But then, a watched mailbox never boils.

Losing heat through my head

Dude, I totally just e-mailed Sean McAdam. Is that wrong? If he writes back I'll post his response. I'm so excited.

In other news, I can see my breath. How many candles would I have to light to increase the temperature in here five degrees?

I have a Fenway story that is not mine. My two sisters were attending one of those "What the hell is wrong with Pedro?" games in which the opposing team's score just grew and grew and grew. And it was freezing. And people started leaving.

And a guy sitting in their section shouted, "Go ahead! Leave! .... You'll see!"

You can really overhear some great stuff. Especially in the bleachers.

You're willing to sacrifice our love

You know... a couple of weeks ago while I was on vacation and sleeping late, my doorbell rang. It was the gas man! He said he'd come to shut the gas off, which made sense because the guys downstairs had moved out and he was probably flanging the ol' gas pipe connection thing.

So I let him go downstairs and do his thing and that was that. Until a few days later when I went to make a frozen pizza and I realized my gas oven was not operational. Turns out he was shutting off MY gas!

Do you have any idea how cold I am? I must pay my bill at some point so I can make tater tots like a civilized human being. In the meantime, I don't even put my beer in the fridge. It's tucked nicely under the air hockey table.

Body glitter

Okay, so I'm watching a Rhode Island public access channel and for some reason, they're showing footage from a night at The Complex. And let me tell you.
It's all right here!

Typical scenes include:

1. Two young women dance together to a song such as "Pour Some Sugar On Me". An older, solitary man stands in the background holding a domestic beer and stares at them.

2. Several young ladies dance on top of the bar. Their pants are pulled down slightly so everyone can see their bloomers!

3. A group of dancing kids realize the camera is on them. They scream and show off their tongue rings!

4. A tipsy high school junior with a fake ID and an asymmetrical top she got at Deb gets humped from behind by a horny state college retard!


Gotta love the sweat, the flashing lights, the sequins, the Midori sours, the Marlboro Lights. Saturday morning TV... there's nothing quite like it.

You're Having the Time of My Life

Fuck you, Red Sox.

How DARE you even TRY to steal my heart! After all the SHIT you put me through this year... Embree and Foulke; Mark "Whiffmaster B" Bellhorn; bitchy, erratic Schilling, Millar the rally killer; the death of the Mirabelli Fat Bat; broken-eyed Renteria... need I go on?

DO NOT SET THE SEASON TO MONTAGE!! DO NOT REPLAY THE MAJESTY OF DAVID ORTIZ'S HOME RUNS!! DO NOT DO A FLIPBOOK OF MANNY'S LOVE AND BEAUTY PAGEANT SMILE!!

And absolutely NO Papelbon!!

I HATE YOU, BOSTON RED SOX!! I HATE YOU!!

Sean McAdam: The Baritone

If you look closely on the right, you can see SM talking to the lady outside the WEEI studios...

Sean McAdam smells like teen spirit

The best part of my morning was getting to hear Mister S.A. on the Saturday morning Red Sox show. I would give up my closet full of cassettes to hear some of his allegedly brilliant impressions of various local celebrities and Simpsons characters. I have a photograph from Game 4 of the ALCS in which you can see a sliver of McAdam's profile... hey, it's not easy to surreptitiously take pictures of people! I gotta scan it soon so you can see.

Probably the worst part of my morning was running out of gas on 495 and not being able to wish-push my car all the way down the off-ramp. I gotta give huge thanks to the Plainville PD for not giving me any shit for my abandoned ride while I huffed and puffed my way to the Mobil station. Au contraire... they parked behind me so I wouldn't get plowed into while I took care of business.

I do truly love Mariano Rivera, but my adoration is compromised when I know he's about to get chest-thumped by Alex Rodriguez because the Yankees just won the division again. I swear to god... if the sports media starts referring to the Yankees as the underdogs or lovable losers of 2005... if they use words like "amazing triumph", "enduring spirit", or "tenacious drive"... I will varmit and swear off Major League baseball.

I'm also not sure about how I feel about the Trot Nixon in the Line-up vs. Lefties experiment, either.

Oh, well. Onward. Ozzie Guillen for AL Manager of the Year!

The Pawtucket Times presents: Tele-Times

The Pawtucket Times has a special section in the editorials called "Tele-Times", in which your average ( elderly ) citizen can leave a message ( complaint ) and have it published!

Here're some of the best from this past week:

"I’m calling concerning the animals of Pawtucket. I think it’s very cruel to starve an animal in the winter cold weather and that. And why are they picking on cats when there’s other animals, not birds, squirrels and all that. And why wasn’t it in the paper when he went into yards and put cameras in there. That was invading privacy and that. Why did he get away with it?"

That one I find pretty mystifying. And then there's:

"The Pops in the Park was excellent. The fireworks display was one of the best Pawtucket's had in a long time... And the port-a-potty was the cleanest port-a-potty this side of the Mississippi..."

Wow!

"Under God belongs in the Pledge of Allegiance. We who are believers have to fight constantly to keep the presence of God in ourselves and in our children. Check out the trash on TV and in the movies that is fed to the gullible public... We must teach our children to be strong religiously and not be deceived by the devil and his devious ways..."

"I live in Pawtucket, and although I can find many things wrong with this city, I am certainly glad I don't live in Lincoln. The people in Lincoln are ridiculous. They hate dogs, because they don't want the dog track; and they hate kids , because they don't want a Little League field. What is wrong with them? People who hate dogs and hate kids have got a problem."

By the way, I recorded these exactly the way they were printed. All questionable punctuation is not mine. Do they even have a proofreader over there? Cuz... you know, I could do it for you.

More to follow!

Speaking of witch...

Juliana Hatfield says:

"I love Edgar Renteria's face. It's such a great face: beautiful eyes and such smooth skin. I like Lenny DiNardo's form. His wind-up and his extension are balletic. I know he's not the fastest guy out there, but speed isn't everything, is it? And David Ortiz is a genius. He's incredible to watch. Over and over, he hits home runs that are simply transcendent."

-- from Redsoxnation.net

For the record, I never liked J.H. Her self-loathing seemed really forced and her music wasn't really that great. Reading crap like this reminds me of why she used to make me roll my eyes. And I'll just BET she likes Lenny Dinardo's form!

She is right about Renteria, but don't tell her I said that.

I'm moving to the AL Central

I can't begin to tell you how bored I got with the Red Sox this year.

I made the decision last year after the whole thing went down that I was not going to go to Spring Training. I also decided I was not going to try and get any Fenway tickets. If I happened across them, fine, but I wasn't going to waste time, money and effort on trying to go to games.

I think even before the World Series I was getting sick of hearing Wink Martindale's wooden delivery of "The destination of this train is... BRAINTREE." while wedged into a steamy car with Quincy-Adams bound drunks.

Many times, I'd find myself watching Dodger / Diamondback games on ESPN because I was so freaking sick of looking at Johnny Damon or Curt Schilling or the Green Monster. The lethargic pitching and sluggish bats and inconsistant fielding. What was there to get revved up about? Oh yeah, the kids. Why do you think I spent so much time in Pawtucket? Because that's where the good stuff was, the exciting stuff. The prospects and potential call-ups.

I was watching a Cleveland Indians game one night and when they won... their celebration was so sincere and joyous... their hearts were young and gay... and I thought, why is my cable TV so limited that I have to endure yet another visit to Camden Yards with D.O. and Rem-Dawg? Why am I watching Braves game on TBS when I really can't stand Atlanta?

(Because I love it when Atlanta plays the Marlins. I love watching Dontrelle Willis pitch. I love Mike Lowell and Jeff Conine.)

I don't get to see too many NL games, and that drives me nuts. I couldn't name one contender for NL RoY. I probably couldn't pick Carpenter out of a line-up. Yet night after night, Red Sox baseball.

Oh, by the way, I cannot fucking stand Tom Caron. I absolutely adored Bob Rodgers
and I miss him terribly. I would suggest Eric Frede replace TC, but I understand he's got the hockey gig on NESN. How about this? All Eckersley, all the time. yeah.

I Love Jeremi Gonzalez 4-Eva

So I was talking to Bob From Work about baseball (no!) and he was dismayed that his good friend Manny Delcarmen, son of Mr. "Cookie" Delcarmen, seemed to be somewhat overlooked among Papelbon and Hansen et al. An "unsung hero" to use his words.

To which I countered, what about Jeremi Gonzalez? Here we have a man who came to us from the lowly yet lovable D-Rays and hung out in AAA until an injury got him a start with Boston earlier this year. And so it was... JG started and did very well.

And then... at times Gonzo was forgotten until a starter blew it all over the place or there was an extra inning game. And he came in and did either poorly or welly BUT HE DID IT AND WAS GOOD-NATURED ABOUT IT.

I know you're thinking "How do you know he didn't mind? Maybe he was a real dick about it!"

To which I say: You are obviously jealous and lead a boring life.

I love Jeremi Gonzalez. He's done a bunch of different crap this year and really been a useful, handy pitcher for us.

Squiggy

I know this post is going to be really scattershot, because this story excites me greatly.

The year was either 2003 or 2004. Probably 2004. I was leaving Fenway Park ( I think it must have been a day game ) and on the corner of Lansdowne I saw a nondescript fellow standing there, waiting for something. Just for one second. And as I looked away a light went on upstairs.

I turned to my stepmother and said, "Was that Squiggy?"

She thought it was, I thought it was, and it is not completely out of the realm of possibility that an actor of that "caliber" would go to a Red Sox game and just be hanging around by himself on a nearby corner. Without all the mobbing and the autograph requests.

But later in the evening, my brain went into "Naaaah" mode. And I didn't think anything more of it.


Until!

It was late one night a couple of months later. I was in bed reading Moneyball for the first time. And the part where Bill James is talking about the figurative origin of the species and the very early Baseball Abstract readership he mentions that one of its first raving fans was "the guy who played Squiggy on Laverne and Shirley".

I was so excited about finding this out that I started calling people who were less than interested. Like the time I met the town historian. Anyway. As it turns out, Squiggy is a baseball scout and henceforth and heretoafter I'll call him David Lander.

But how is this guy qualified to work for a MLB franchise and get paid for it? Apparantly, he's a hardcore baseball guy and dedicated records keeper and has a magnetic hard drive for a brain. Isn't that enough?

Or is being on a long-running hit sitcom an "in"?

PS: Loved that show.

"His curves are kickin'!"

Dude, you know the Devil Rays are getting all pumped up knowing Boston's coming. Teams like that dig spoiling everything, plus they pretty regularly brawl with the Red Sox anyway.
Have you even seen what Jorge Cantu's been up to lately? I wish I could show you, but I don't have time to look up Aug and Sep stats for him. I may even be wrong... I base my player judgement on highlight reels.


YES Boston lost today, but I may have been the only person who was pleased about seeing all the Pawtucket scrubs come in. Machado, Petegine, Hyzdu, DiNardo, and Shoppach all made appearances.

And Little Alex got his first hit, a double. It wasn't adorable or anything. And Shoppach is still hitless.

In all honesty, I don't think the A's'll be getting the WC. I would have loved that, though. Maybe they'll win the west. I'm rooting for them.

I walked ( a small dog ) by the park yesterday and it was deserted. Nothing there at all. I can remember driving past it during snowfalls in the early morning December hours. Waiting.

By the way, I could give a shit less what Foulke thinks of baseball. I just don't think he's helping the team right now and I want him back on the DL toot sweet. Timlin's masturbation-inducing performance yesterday really might be greasing the tracks. I love Keith Foulke, really. But I don't like the sweaty, nervous bitch imposter sitting in the bullpen.

Winstrol: the wonder of it all

After reading "Juiced", I have to say... there's something sincere and credible about Canseco. I know it's convenient and popular to snicker about him and question his motives and intents, but ... but... what if he's right?

I also love how he asserts that steroids are not dangerous at all and that they're wonderful and beneficial when used properly. I don't know if I agree with him but it's nice to have conventional wisdom challenged now and then.

As Mykel Board used to say... "You're wrong!"

The white... schoene.

Do you remember the 2002 Anaheim Angels? Oh, but they were darling!

That was a great WS for a lot of reasons. I won't soon forget that team. K-Rod's debut. Man.

Anyhoo, this Toronto series we saw a lot of Scott Schoeneweis, who's a sweet, sweet lefty.

And http://www.davetill.com/personal/writing/dwt_memoryproject.html

made me laugh this evening.

A Triple Shy

Do you remember the scene in Purple Rain in which Prince's father tells him to never get married?

Well, I have similar advice for you. Don't ever take the Fenway Park tour unless you've never been to Fenway. It was a 12 dollar rip-off. No Monster, no bullpen, no warning track. The only cool part was sitting in the press area. ( " Look at me! I'm Masserotti! I'm Gordon Edes! Wheeee!")

Also, if you're a member of the Baseball Writers' Association, there's a dress code posted on the door. YOU'D BETTER HAVE A COLLAR ON THAT SHIRT, MCADAM!

In other news, no one really showed up for baseball yesterday, but Phil altered my "swing" a little bit. Yes, with just a little more extension, I was able to hit for slightly more power. And the fucking grass needed to be cut badly. No sproingy ball hops on short, tight grass. Just me in the outfield trying to find the ball or charging a hit that stops like 10 feet in front of me.

Phil is the Papa Jack of our shitty little team!

Do you want your AAA team to be successful?

There're a lot of things I don't know about baseball. Things I wouldn't understand. Things I couldn't understand. Things I SHOULDN'T understand.

I was thinking about AAA franchise teams and wondering: Do their major league affiliates want them to be successful in their own rights? If the Pawtucket Red Sox had made the playoffs, would Boston have been unhappy because it would delay the harvesting of their best players?

Does HQ even care how successful the AAA teams are? Probably not. I think at that level they're more interested in the talent show aspect of it. Is Dave Berg hitting? Who's got a fat OBP? If so-and-so goes on the DL, is there a decent lefty we can get from Pawtucket?

It's a like a giant green waiting room that smells like fried dough with a mix of upstarts and washups playing ball to pass the time.

Not that I don't think Kelly Shoppach wants to win EVERY DAY. I really don't know what the players are thinking. Is it: "I'm stealing second base to win this fucking game" or is it "I hope everyone notices how good I am at stealing bases"?

Just so you know, I'm starting to go to little league games.

"Yeah, Pedro!"

I miss Pedro. I wouldn't have given him the four years, but I miss him. All the stuff that people hated him for, I loved him for.

In 2003, I think it was, or early 2004, I was standing for the national anthem at the park and during the brief silence after..." O'er the laaaaand of the freeeee....."

One lone male voice shouted, "YEAH PEDRO!!!!"

And the home of the brave.

I was talking to old Dad this afternoon about a few things and again he brought up how he'd occasionally walk to McCoy when he lived in CF. He said he used to sneak in a couple of baloney sandwiches and that NO ONE was there. So you could sit wherever.

Old Dad's not a New Englander and was a Dodgers fan, which I love about him.

I haven't posted because I've been working a wicked lot. Oh yeah, my phone got shut off.

Wow, Mom. Wow.

I'm tired and bored. Erin came into work and handed me Boston Red Sox tickets. I forsook my Pawtucket ticket and took my brother Tom. Clement pitched.

My seats were great, thanks for asking. Pawtucket lost, Abe "Glass Piece" Alvarez took it. No playoff chance, sorry.

Ooh, Schilling's really blowing Game 1. Better get him out.

It was really incredibly nice and amazing of Erin to show up at my workplace and give me the tickets. I can't say enough good things about her. One of the coolest people I've ever met.

The best part? I got to see Alejandro Machado's first ever at-bat in the majors. Yeah, he grounded out. But it was a very nice and respectable at- bat in which he took a lot of pitches. It was adorable!

NO, stupid, I didn't say adorable. I said durable. He's a durable infielder. GOD!

I'm bummed that I'm not going to either of the last two PawSox games. There goes my everything.