Wednesday, December 31, 2003

AFI is going to do another one of their top 100 movie lists in 2004, this time with songs from movies. Check out the list of 400 that voters will get to choose from. It's totally surprising because you might not think movie songs were that big outside of musicals. Lest we forget in the 1980s alone there was Fame, Flashdance, Footloose, and Ghostbusters just to name a few. And then there's The Bodyguard's I Will Always Love You, in case 1992 should decide to haunt you every now and then...
So David Wells is leaving. I heard that this morning on the radio, when the ditzy radio announcer woman was all like "The mutiny against George Steinbrenner continues..." OK, first off, let me just say that I was upset five years ago when they traded Wells for Clemens. Now, after all his back problems, brawls and crybaby attitude, not to mention being exactly half to blame for the Marlins winning the World Series, I say "Don't let the door hit you on the way out, David." Believe all the whiny NY columnists you want that this is going to leave another void in the rotation, but just remember Game 5 of the Series, when this void-filler left a mighty big one himself because the man couldn't stay in shape for six months of the year.

Back to ditzy radio announcers -- I have such trouble listening to the radio in the morning. All I want to hear is music, not the uninformed opinions of people who literally love the sound of their own voice. Unfortunately, almost every station in the area feels the need to have a talk show in the morning, with the exception of the Smooth Jazz station and the Light Music station. Smooth Jazz is fine when it's 1980s R&B songs like Ya Mo Be There or Piano in the Dark, but I don't like the Kenny G. or Bernie Williams type of Jazz (sorry Cow Eyes!). The Light Music station plays too much Celine Dion and Faith Hill (i.e., over-played stuff) for my taste. I used to like the Oldies station, but they're slowly making their way to talk in the morning. Maybe satelite radio is the answer...

Tuesday, December 30, 2003

We moved in to the apartment a year ago today! What a year. And in honor of that, here are my hits for 2003:

Favorite Moment of the Year: Like you can't guess? Aaron Boone's home run, of course! The whole Yankees/Red Sox series was a freaking odyessy. The loss during Game 1, our outing to Game 2 and being a part of it and singing along to New York, New York, Game 3's brawl, Game 4's dissapointing loss, Game 5 at work, Game 6 half at work/half at a bar, mucho exhasperating, and then came Game 7. So many people wanted the Red Sox to win, which only fueled my wanting them to lose (courtesy of the Yankees, of course), and it made for a stressful yet awesome week. Tonya summed it up best with the quote of the year when she was watching highlights of the Red Sox beat the A's in Game 4. I was typing on my side of the cube field when all of a sudden I hear her mutter "I Want Them To Die." The hatred was there on the Yankee side, for those of you who think only Sox fans hate the Yankees and we could care less. The Red Sox were arrogant and smarmy and god knows if the A's couldn't wipe the cocky off their "blue collar" faces (2 million a year is blue collar? Hmmm...) it was even sweeter that the Yankees could. So, back to Game 7. Pedro's all masterful and Clemens, as his usual playoff self, semi-chokes. And then came the starters-as-bullpen relief. And then came Giambi's second homer to inch it closer. And then came the 8th inning. And then, and then, ah, you know what happened by now. And if you didn't, it's already in the ESPN Classic rotation. It still puts a smile on my face.

Delightful Moment of the Year: Cablevision gets the YES Network not five minutes before the first pitch on Opening Day. Praise be to God, as I would’ve had to have gotten DirecTV in my room just to catch the Yanks in action

Favorite Book of the Year: Well, there’s two. First, Second Helpings, by Megan McCafferty as it was a continuation to my most favoritest book ever, Sloppy Firsts. And then there’s Cold Mountain, which I read in February before the movie hype. I shouldn’t have liked it because I hate too much description and this book was chockfull of it. It worked because the description wasn’t overdone or just thrown in to fill space like some authors do. Great plot, good movement and an ending that pissed me off in a good way. Good stuff.

Concert of the Year: Well, this one is kind of a lock, as I went to only two concerts for the same artist: Bruce Springsteen’s opening and closing nights at Giants Stadium. The first I attended via my cousin Joe Clark Jr., and the second with my roommates. Both nights were the most amazing weather imaginable for a concert. The crowds were awesome, too. And between both shows, I saw every song I wanted to see/hear performed. The last show might get a slight edge, however, just for Jersey Girl, which was basically the reason my roommates and I picked the last show to go to. It was quite the awesome moment when it started being played, Carolyn, Melissa and I majorly freaking out and whatnot. It was just a perfect night.

On a Springsteen related note: I now relate the song Badlands to my feelings about my workplace. And Sasquatch still blasts Mary’s Place when he’s in a Brucey mood. And the roommates and I still quietly sing “Meet me at Sassy’s place” when he does.

Favorite Movie of the Year: Chicago was great for the first half of the year, Bend it Like Beckham for the middle part and The Return of the King just kicked the entire year’s butt.

Event of the Year: The Blackout!! Five minutes of fear, hours of walking, no air conditioning, nice cousins to take me in, steaming night, more miles of walking to get home to where power had been restored, and all of it was way more fun than you might think. The smartest things I did that day: Wear a sleeveless dress instead of pants, wear sneakers, and fill up a bottle of water before leaving the darkened office. It was also much fun for Tonya and I to sing “The Final Countdown” as we descended the stairs of our office building.

On a sidenote, the next night I stayed in my gloriously air-conditioned apartment to watch the Yankees/Orioles game. Aaron Boone hit a home run that was called foul and he went balistic and I thought that was the most entertainment I'd get out of our new third baseman for the year. Ha!

Trip of the Year: Philly in June. I get to visit with my best bud Hollis and her beau Christian, and eat a real-deal cheesesteak. It don’t get no better than that.

News of the Year: Dexter and Vicki’s engagement. And y’all will get to hear about it for the next year, so it’s double the fun!

Favorite TV Show of the Year: The O.C. All hail scripted television in its snarkiest, cleverest, soapiest glory.

Sasquatch Moment of the Year: Oh, there are just too many to count.

Monday, December 29, 2003

So I heard this survey fact on the radio this morning that 76 percent of men would rather watch an important football game than romance their wives. Does this actually surprise anyone? Anyway, look at the wording. It doesn't say "regular Sunday football game for a team you don't care about" it says "important". I certainly understand this, as I would much rather watch Yankees/Red Sox Game 7 (or any other playoff/important regular season Yankee game for that matter) than be romanced.

What I don't get about men, though, is their ability to care about teams they don't follow. Football playoff games are hugely rated, but you can't tell me that everyone watching is a fan of the teams playing. During the Super Bowl last year, it was fun for me and the roomies because we had The Delaware Connection, a.k.a. Rich Gannon, involved. But every other year, aside from 1987, 1991 and 2001, when the Giants were playing in the Super Bowl, I could care less about either team. I'll watch the game, but it's kind of an empty rooting feeling. You see a lot of men get way into it, though. Is this some kind of gene that as a female I just don't have? Hmmm...

Thursday, December 25, 2003

And now for the most exciting news of the year on The Complete and Total Bisch: Dexter and Vicki are engaged!!!!!!! Two of my bestus friends on the planet are going to be two of my bestus married friends on the planet and that totally rocks. Nothing is more exciting than when two of the most fantastic people you know decide to get married, especially when the engagement happens on Christmas. Joy to the world for sure, man!

Wednesday, December 24, 2003

I'd like to thank Sasquatch for a very merry Christmas present indeed -- a lack of sleep due to his sexcapades at 2 a.m. Yes, his "I'll Have Sex for Christmas" pageant included a thumping bed and lots of him and Bride of Sasquatch (they're not married, but Melissa loves this nickname) stomping around, returning to the creaky bed, stomping around, etc. The Chicken thought it was Santa's reindeer arriving a night early.

My roommates are better gift givers, however, as Melissa got me an awesome pancake turner and my very own recipe journal while Carolyn gave me a Kate Spade organizer. Our tree isn't drinking any more water, which probably means its all-dead (much like the A-Rod deal. Ha!) and we'll be sweeping up a crapload of needles next week, but it still looks good.

And I get to deal with Christmas Eve WEBS today! Woo-hoo!

Tuesday, December 23, 2003

We've had a bunch of random people coming in and out of the office the past two days, and yesterday this old guy stops in front of my cube and is like "Ah, a Yankees fan." No, he's not psychic or anything because my desk has 1)a big Yankee bandana my dad gave me for the purpose of hanging in one's cubicle 2) a Yankee baseball stuffed animal thing a co-worker gave me when she thought it was my birthday and 3)El Capitan, a.k.a. Derek Jeter ornamanet hanging off my computer (Jason Giambi might be joining him when his ornament goes on sale at Hallmark. He'll get replaced if Bernie or Hideki or someone else makes it to ornament greatness.) Anyway, the guy's like "What do you think of Pettitte? I'm a little worried." So I go on and on about how Brown and Vasquez might make a difference even though they're National Leaguers and have to prove themselves in the AL and the guys all like "Ok, wow. You know more about this than I do." Awesome! No guy has ever admitted I know more about the Yankees than they do! It was a proud moment in my life.

Oh, and the Mrs. Beasley basket came to the office yesterday and I'm trying so hard not to eat the whole thing. Tonya is away this week and half of the basket is rightly hers, so I'm rationing myself accordingly. I seriously wish Mrs. B. would head out to the East Coast and make it easier on us, but delivery will have to suffice for now.

And the bets are on about what time we'll be dismissed tomorrow. It had better be early, or I'm going to go around re-writing Dickens quotes: "Four o'clock on Christmas Eve? That's not business hours. It's drudgery for the sake of it and an insult to all men (and women and Chickens, as my feathered friend will be with me tomorrow for the trip to Middletown) of goodwill!" And I'll have someone else in the office pipe up with a "Here, here," a la Bob Cratchit.

Monday, December 22, 2003

This is from Saturday's NY Post, about how the New Stadium Evilness is still upon us. This part made me irate:

"For those who believe Yankee Stadium is hallowed ground, remember these words from former Yankee Jerry Coleman. When we asked him a few years back about returning to the Stadium, he said, "That's not the same Yankee Stadium that I played in. It's a different park since the renovation."

That renovation took place in 1973. Much more will be heard on this project in the near future."

So, anything that happened after 1973 doesn't count? Chamblis' homer? Reggie's three-homer game? Reghetti's, Abbott's and Gooden's no-hitters? Wells' and Cone's perfect games? Leyritz's 1995 extra-inning home run? The Jeffrey Maier game? Wade Boggs on horseback? Tino's Grand Slam? The entire 1998 season for that matter? The 11-1 1999 post season? The Subway Series? The incident with Clemens, Piazza and a Bat? The magic of the 2001 World Series whose home runs are on the list of the most memorable of all time? Aaron freaking Boone? And that's just the big-time stuff. That's only PART of 30 years of MAJOR baseball history right there. Sure, it's not Gehrig and Ruth and DiMaggio and players long dead before I was born. But it's a damn good history in its own right.

I seriously doubt you'll see anything about Mystique and Aura in a new stadium. Oh wait, you will. The man-made, special effects kind, I'm sure...

Friday, December 19, 2003

It won't be the top story on SportsCenter and you'd probably have to dig deep into any sports web site to find the boxscore, but my alma mater wiped the floors with Colgate and are now the 1-AA national football champions. Rock on, Blue Hens. If my Yanks couldn't pull a title out this year, at least UD could.

Thursday, December 18, 2003

How much do you want to bet that if A-Rod wanted to be traded to the Yankees and this whole player's union debacle happened, Selig would NOT have stepped in? But because it's his beloved Red Sox, who he seems to do more for than the actual team he owns, he'll be the one to see the deal through.

And since no one sent our office a Mrs. Beasley basket this Christmas, Tonya and I have ordered our own. It'll be arriving next week! Merry Christmas to us!

Wednesday, December 17, 2003

Dude, why is everyone so worried that the Yankee clubhouse is now going to be a bunch of cocky assholes? We're getting two, possibly three players who have ego-tripped in the past. We've gotten rid of one in Clemens, and are kind of retaining one if Wells is still in the picture. That makes 3-4 possible jackasses out of 25 guys. Do you REALLY think El Capitan is going to stand for swollen heads? Joe Torre? The entire infield is the same as last season's, no problems there. Un-problematic Hideki gets Sheffield and Lofton joining him in the outfield, two guys who have had troubled pasts -- but look at what frustrating teams they were on. And I think Sheffield may have been humbled a bit by these contract procedings. Didn't George win out on that one? Kevin Brown? Well, if he wins more games than Schilling or Pedro he can have the Concord for his family for all I care.

If you are so one-track minded that you think players are "Once a jerk, always a jerk," let's remember the fact that Tino Martinez, the mucho beloved ex-Yankee (we miss him still!) was considered a "cancer" in the St. Louis clubhouse this season. Yes, our Tino!

It all depends on the atmosphere, people.

Tuesday, December 16, 2003

Awesome -- The Yankees are doing more discount ticket nights next year. Along with the random 5 dollar nights, they're doing 14-dollar upperdeck nights on Tuesdays and even other days of the week. And check out the schedule -- The Red Sox are in town on my birthday. Awwww yeah, we know where we're going to be celebrating!

Monday, December 15, 2003

Happy holiday photos from your favorite Chicken.
Leave it to the NY Times to get all whiny about the distant possibility of playing the Super Bowl in a snowstorm. Using yesterday's Jets snowy game as a guide, Dave Anderson seems to think that it would be a "Shame" to play in wintry conditions and that's why the Northeast should never get a Super Bowl. Uh, so all the playoff games leading up to the Super Bowl, when the players claim they don't even notice the weather they're so intent on winning are a travesty to the game? I think people in Green Bay would beg to differ. Plus, the NY metro area gets maybe 3-4 good snowstorms a winter in an average year. Some years we get more, some we get NONE. So why should a game that's normally played in cold conditions never have it's big, grand finale in a section of the US that actually gets a winter? Especially when there's a good chance of no snow at all?

If we live in such a wussy society that a FOOTBALL game can't be played in snow, regardless of how big the stakes are, I don't know if I'd want to even watch.

Sunday, December 14, 2003

The only thing better than the capture of Saddam is that it's interrupted all the "OH MY GOD IT'S SNOWING!!!" broadcasts on the local NY news. They probably had all their "Storm Watch 2003" people stationed around the area to tell us "Hey, it's snowing outside!" and when the news broke about Saddam that all got pushed to the side. For awhile there, ABC refused to give up to national coverage, instead keeping Storm Watch and Saddam on equal footing. They now have Charlie Gibson on, so it's safe to say that they trust us enough to get around in 4 inches of snow without their help.

Saturday, December 13, 2003

F'ing ESPN2. They're showing the Colgate/FAU game right now instead of the UD/Wofford game. They said in the beginning it would be regonalized coverage. I ask you: Wouldn't a team that's, oh, 130 miles from the viewing area beat out a team that's 240 miles away? Hopefully, they'll break away at half time or something. I don't understand the point of starting two semifinal games at once, but then, no one seems to find 1-AA all that important in ESPN programming.

Friday, December 12, 2003

The Chicken's back, and better than ever. And he gets e-mail forwards, just like everyone else. Here are his answers.
I love all these so-called Yankee fans jumping ship right now, when the 2004 season has yet to be even played. They're complaining that they can't stand the higher ups' way of doing things and just can't take it anymore. Awwwww. Poor you. You obviously weren't around, oh, 13 or so years ago. You want something to whine about? Just remember when Melido Perez was your best pitcher and Mel Hall was your big bat threat. Yeah. You don't remember because you jumped on the bandwagon in 1996. Good riddance to you and please don't come back.
Happy Frank Sinatra's Birthday Even Though He's Dead Day!

Dexter's birthday was fantabulous. He may not like getting older, but his birthday always brings together a good mix of people so age is a sacrifice one must have to make. It should say something about your character when you want to have a small birthday party, but have so many friends it's impossible to confine it to a tiny group. Shout out to Liana and Eric for being neighbolry and driving me home last night. And shout out to Vicki for comforting thoughts on the Andy Pettitte situation.

Speaking of our ex-favorite defecting pitcher, I was in a pretty foul mood on the PATH when I had to see his face on the back page of every NY paper. That's until I was walking to work and saw a construction worker dancing to Robert Palmer's (God rest his soul) Simply Irresistible playing on his radio. And right outside the Yankee Store, no less.

Thursday, December 11, 2003

Tonya and I are going over all the depressing songs we can apply to this day. So far we've come up with "Look Away" by Chicago, "It Must've Been Love" by Roxette, "Cryin'" by Roy Orbison and "Every Rose Has its Thorn" by Poison. Sure, they're break up songs, but we're feeling like Andy broke up with NY at the moment, so shut up.
Andy Pettitte, for all you've done with the Yankees, I am grateful. But right now I hate you. I hate that you lied about wanting to stay in the Bronx. Blame George for dragging his feet all you want (and he IS half to blame in all this), but there were sources saying you were checking out schools for your kids in Houston back in October. You didn't want to stay here. Don't freaking lie to the fans who have loved you, even in your early days when you were trade bait and not even that good. You didn't want to stay here. You wanted to go home. I hope the Astros fans treat you well, but you'll never be as revered in Houston as you were in New York.

I've never been this bitter about a Yankee leaving of his own free will. It's almost like a friend suddenly turning on you. I expected this of other players, but never Andy Pettitte. I guess that's my fault for believing too much.
Very happy birthday wishes go out to Dexter, who can probably have an even happier birthday knowing that Trista and Ryan are finally married. OK, maybe that's what ABC would have us believe. But I'm sure Dexter's birthday is going to rock just the same.

I can't believe the roommates and I got through that wedding last night without throwing something at the TV. I'm usually a sucker for weddings, and usually get a emotionally invested in TLC's A Wedding Story, but the fact that Trista and Ryan have been shoved down our throats for months took away from it. A LOT. And knowing that ABC staged all of it for production value sucked most of the sentimentality out of it. Plus, every time Chris Harrison smarmily told us this was "The Wedding of the Decade" it further demonstrated ABC's need to boost its ego and pat itself on the back. Because it was no where NEAR the wedding of the decade, especially if Prince William or Harry decides to tie the knot within the next 7 years. I even suspect the helicopters hovering over the ceremony were either brought in by ABC to make itself look good or weren't shooed away for the same reasons. A fairy tale my ass...

Wednesday, December 10, 2003

So I just got around to reading the Post make a huge front-page deal out of the Yanks raising ticket prices -- and then right there in the story it says it's really only going to affect corporations and rich asses who have the expensive seats. Tier Reserved, where I usually sit, isn't going up in price at all. If people are going to whine and complain about this, well that's there right. But I'd like to thank George for pressing the people who already have the money to afford the expensive seats for more instead of the average folks like me.

And there's all these crazy rumors that Pettitte is close to signing with Houston. Huh??

Tuesday, December 09, 2003

It's time to introduce a new department to TC&TB -- The Awesome Song of the Day. This won't be an every day feature, just one I add in here when I hear a song that is deemed awesome enough to write about. Today's Choice, after seeing the video on VH1 Classic last night is: Human, by Human League. Why is it awesome, you may ask? Well, the dude singing is like all upset because he cheated on his beloved to "fill the void" while she was gone. Gone where, who knows. She just wasn't in the picture for awhile and he missed her so much he needed to cheat on her. So he's asking for forgiveness in the song and just when his gal forgives him, she dumps the news on him -- she was "human" too! They both cheated on each other! It's a win-win situation for everybody. That's why it's awesome. You could only get away with a song like that in the 80s.

Saturday, December 06, 2003

To all the malls and non-essential retailers that are actually open in a freaking blizzard: You Suck.

Seriously. Why the hell should employees have to risk their lives just so some spoiled jackasses can get their Christmas shopping done without a crowd? It's only supposed to get worse as the day progresses, but tomorrow is supposed to be OK. You can't stay closed for ONE DAY? Geez, people are stupid.

Friday, December 05, 2003

On this snowy evening:

Carolyn subjected Melissa and I to the fabulousness that is the New Kids on the Block Christmas album. And when I say fabulous, I mean pretty damn scary, considering I hadn't heard "This One's for the Children" in about 13 years. I think there's probably good reason for that. Anyway, she flipped through some of the songs for us, and when this really, uh, grizzled-voiced guy started singing I went "Who the hell is that?" and Carolyn pipes up, totally without thinking, "Donny!!" Some things stay with you forever, I guess.

And did you know Carolyn has an interpretive dance to "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer"? She was nice enough to act it out for us.

Then Tonya called me, snowbound from Newport, to tell me that Barry Manilow is singing Christmas carols live on A&E. This is significant because we actually went to a Barry concert. But he wasn't singing Christmas songs then, so maybe it's not that significant. Anyway, it totally cracked me up.

And for the biggest news of the evening: Sasquatch watches The O.C.!! This was found out by Carolyn when she got insider information from his brother, who, when Carolyn told him she and Melissa were having a Christmas/Hannukah party in two weeks (I'll, sadly, be absent), responded excitedly with "Christmakah!" He says they're big fans of The O.C. upstairs, too. I didn't know Sasquatch could sit still long enough to watch an hour-long drama, but he's just full of surprises lately.
Liana's got a blog!
I just wanted to add my two cents about Kenny Lofton. He's rumored to be an interest for centerfield, making Bernie the DH. Every report I see says this is oh--so-great, but dude, he's actually older than Bernie. I know, I know, he's lightning quick. But he's going to be 37 next year. This isn't 1995 Kenny Lofton we're talking about here...

The blizzard is coming! The blizzard is coming! Why must it come on the weekend, though, when there's no chance of getting a free day off from work? Ugh. The roomies and I were discussing building a snowman of our landlord in the backyard tomorrow. Then again, we're not supposed to really use the backyard, so that could be a problem.

Thursday, December 04, 2003

So Nick Johnson and Juan Rivera are sent packing for a young stud pitcher. Whether this is a good move or not remains to be seen, though I think it certainly looks good on paper. Vasquez is 27, but Jeff Weaver was young too and look what happened there. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt, though, because he isn't Weaver, after all.

Nick Johnson? I was never a huge fan. He had a strange resemblence to Babe Ruth and had some clutch hits, but I didn't get a vibe from him. Everyone else I know is in love with him and will be sad to see him go, so I feel bad for them. This now opens up first base again, which is interesting because they are either really banking on Giambi's surgery going well to make him an everyday fielder, or there is someone else in mind for the position. Why did Tino have to sign with the Rays? Sigh.

Juan Rivera? I feel worse about losing him because he was quick and had a good arm. He would've gotten lost in the shuffle, though, especially if Sheffield comes in. I'm still getting over the fact that the outfield might actually be set instead of a platoon situation. It's going to be so weird if that happens. But in a good way.

Oh, how I miss the days when the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree lighting used to just be an NY metro area event. It used to start at 7 and end at 8, a few celebrities making appearances, and a nice NY area celeb (sometimes even a Yankee! Like Bernie! Or Paul O'Neill! Those were the days.) helping the mayor light the tree at the end of it all. None of this ugly extravaganza NBC pulled out last night now that it's being broadcast nationally. It's turned into the Macy's Parade, Part 2. Complete with terrible renditions of Christmas songs no one's ever heard of. And don't even get me started about the sick network synergy that allowed the cast of The West Wing to light the tree with the mayor instead of say, a beloved New Yorker. Bah freaking humbug to NBC on this one....

Wednesday, December 03, 2003

I love these reality stars who whine and complain that they're lives were ruined by being on TV. What year are we living in? Do these people not own a television? If they're that ignorant as to what they're getting themselves into, they totally deserve whatever they get.

A bunch of us took Ken out for his birthday last night and when you combine alcohol and "I'd Really Love to See You Tonight" and other assorted 70s hits, you know it's going to be a good time. Tonya made me laugh by stealthily trying to get info on like the only decent looking guy on our otherwise gay-or-freaky male floor, a state which we bemoan quite often. But that's what you get in publishing, I guess.

Tuesday, December 02, 2003

The next few weeks are usually huge in baseball signings. I'm ruminating the following:

So with the re-signing of Aaron Boone, does this mean the A-Rod rumors can be put to rest? I would imagine third base would've been Jeter's if Rodriguez came on board. Unless they're planning on trading Derek, which would be like the craziest thing to happen in Yankeeland in a long time. I shouldn't even say that, lest George decides to scour some blogs today for big ideas.

I like the idea of Paul Quantrill in the bullpen, but not Tom Gordon, and not because of the Stephen King book. It's the whole age thing. Can we PLEASE get some young pitchers out there? You need a solid mix of veterans and young arms that aren't going to get back spasms in big moments.

As for Sheffield, I wasn't that big on him until I realized the Yanks haven't had three legit outfielders at the same time in I don't know how long. Usually it's left field or right field by comittee. Bernie's been the only constant the last 11 years (god, has it really been THAT long? I feel old now.) and now that he's starting to show signs of age, who knows what's going to happen with center. So Shef could be the right move, even though I was leaning toward Vlad Guerrero for some time.

2 1/2 months till spring training. Sigh.

Monday, December 01, 2003

Carnivale ended last night, and wow, I'm going to miss it. It did drag its feet a lot, which, coupled with its weirdness, probably turned off a lot of viewers, but there's something satisfying about a show that makes you think. I wonder if it will be picked up for another season. And why does HBO limit itself to home-made programming just one night a week? There are plenty of nights that could kick network TV ass if they get the right show going.

And we're starting to decorate the apartment for Christmas! Melissa, who's celebrating her first Christmas, was so excited to see my box of decorations, which I hadn't seen myself since Christmas of 2000, when I lived in Astoria. I completely forgot about my Subway Series ornament! I think I'll tear apart an old issue of Yankees magazine and hang my favorite players on the tree, whenever we get it. That's another thing -- apparently these jackass Christmas tree sellers hike the price up in Hoboken because they know people don't want to go to far to get a real tree. I can't wait to see what the lot right across the street from us is charging...

Sunday, November 30, 2003

So this Thanksgiving, I was the lucky family member to semi-maim myself. Usually my dad does the honors, when he's cutting the turkey or something like that, and accidentally slices into his hand. This year, it was all me. A glass piece of our now-antique Corningware smashed all over the kitchen floor earlier in the day and later that afternoon, my dad handed me a piece of cooked turkey skin, one of my most absolute favorite things in the world, and it falls to the floor. Deciding to employ the three second rule, I lunge down to grab it, and that's when I feel something searing my left index finger tip. Yes, somehow in my love for turkey skin, my finger managed to find the lone piece of glass we'd missed earlier in the day. It bled a lot at first and all I could think was "I'm not missing Thanksgiving dinner for stitches," but then it subsided, much like the other nasty cuts my fingers have gotten in the past two years (the bagel slicing incident and the tin can incident of Astoria come to mind). This one, though, makes it hurt a little to type but what can you do?

I also managed to whack myself in the eye with the seat belt buckle today (don't ask) but I don't have a black eye. I was going to make up all these crazy stories if I did.

Wednesday, November 26, 2003

Thanksgiving WEBS today! On NJ Transit! What fun!

I seriously cannot wait until this day is over. I'd like to thank the Pilgrims and Indians for having the foresight to know that we'd need a 4-day weekend at the end of November. Now if we can only start having weeklong Thanksgiving celebrations like they did back then, and I'd be so much happier.

Tuesday, November 25, 2003

So we were just watching the American Idol Christmas special, with your favorite former American Idol contestants and "those children", when Fox comes on with this crazy ass commercial for one of their special pieces during tonight's news -- "Perverts -- and they want your children for Christmas." Can I tell you how hard I laughed at this? That has to be the classic Fox commercial of the year, hands down.
Isn't it great when adults regress to middle-school like behavior? Especially when they're supposed to be professionals? Sigh.

The Red Sox can totally have Curt Schilling. I don't trust his health. He's getting old, and the Yanks need a young pitching staff instead of a retirement community. If David Wells taught us anything in the World Series, it's that. The A-Rod thing is tempting, but what are the Yanks going to do with two shortstops? And the whole "The Yanks buy every championship" whining would NEVER go away if it happened. If the Sox get Schilling and A-Rod, doesn't that mean they're trying to buy a championship too? Oh, I forgot. Only New York is guilty of such things because of it being New York, the most "greedy" city in all the land. Forgive me for forgetting that.

Monday, November 24, 2003

It is so funny at the office when Oprah's Favorite Things episode comes on. I've heard several co-workers snark "Shut Up" to the crazed audience when the latest expensive thing that they're getting is announced. Someone just said she can't watch it anymore because it's driving her nuts. I don't know if it's the constant screaming of the crowd or envy over the mountains of free, cool stuff they're all getting. Probably a mixture of both...
It's so much easier to come to work on a Monday knowing it's only going to be a 2 1/2 day week. Yay Thanksgiving!

It's also one of the only weeks I actually like working in midtown because all the Macy's parade acts rehearse in Herald Square. You see kids in band uniforms running all over the city, and I don't know if it's related or not, but I saw these two clowns chasing a guy through the streets this morning. That must be the biproduct of someone's bad dream because even in New York where all the big bad things happen, there is nothing scarier than the idea of being chased by clowns.

And Delaware's going to the IAA football playoffs! Carolyn and I were mucho psyched when the alma mater played Villanova on Saturday and it was actually on TV. And they showed clips of the UD/Villanova game I covered back in 1998, which is funny because one of the only things I remember about that game was that it was hot and there were all these bees in the press box and the only way to get rid of them was to trap them under cups. And that one of the UD players gave the crowd the finger and we printed it in the school paper and the player got in deep ca-ca.

Liana had her birthday party on Saturday night, which was awesome. The lesson I learned for the evening happened when Vicki, Dexter and I were talking to a friend of Liana's who started trying to challenge Dexter on his knowledge of early 80s TV. Just know that when you question somebody on this topic, the reunion episodes DON'T COUNT. Especially when it's a Dukes of Hazzard question, and it refers to the reunion episode that was on in 1997, which clearly is WAY out of range for an early 80s trivia question.

Friday, November 21, 2003

I'm so oblivious in the mornings. Today, I was standing on the corner of 37th and 6th waiting for the light to change, when the guy next to me goes, "Hey, look at that." Straight ahead, two blocks up, is this taxi engulfed in flames. I don't know how I missed it before he pointed it out as it was, like, big and orange and smokey, but there you go. It's not exactly something you see every day, even by New York standards. It must've been burning for awhile because I could smell it when I got to my office, a good two avenues away from it...

Thursday, November 20, 2003

Can I tell you how irate I am that only now are the SATs introducing a written part of the test? Because I totally would have kicked ass at that part and I would've felt a hell of a lot better knowing I was being judged on something I'm good at instead of something I completely suck at, like math. Sure, I did OK on the verbal, but with a third part added, and a part I could've done well with, my scores probably would've been MUCH better than they were.

That said, I still feel the SATs are an unnecessary evil that only exist to stress kids out and then make them feel like crap when they can't do well (like me with math). If a college is so lazy that it only looks at a test score rather than a kids entire transcript, what kind of message does that send? Some schools are finally ditching it, and thank god.

I don't know why this actually bothers me, considering I got into my school of choice despite my lousy math score, graduated, and now have my very own job and income, but it does. I must learn to let go, I guess.
Anyone who really thought Kelly Jo was going to win last night obviously hasn't watched other seasons of The Bachelor. In EVERY one thus far, one Bachelorette gets more play than the other, and she's usually the one that gets rejected. That was Kelly Jo this season. The second they showed her kissing him on that first night, you could tell she was going to fit the crazy "let's show her a lot and make people think she'll win" formula.The producers have to find another way to "trick" us because I was totally not surprised by last night's outcome and I'm sure there were others who felt the same way.

Shirley did an awesome job with her housewarming party last night. I learned so much about what packing tape could be used for, how to cut basil in an easy way, and a great new chicken recipe. Her and Jason's apartment rocks, by the way. I'm not partial to Mets colors, but they so worked in their paint scheme. After their last apartment fiasco, here's hoping they get to stay in this nice place for a long time!

Wednesday, November 19, 2003

So I'm looking at the top-20 rated high school football teams in the state of NJ (as rated by the Start Ledger) and while I'm happy to see my old high school at No. 8, it is so discouraging to see that 4 of the 5 top-ranked schools are private. Does the "Hello! These schools can recruit their players while public schools can't!" thing ever creep into the minds of the people who do the rankings? It's like this in all the high school sports, and to me, it totally sucks. How is a public school team going to stand a chance against a team of all-stars?
If you have not watched MTV's Rich Girls, I seriously wish you would. Only because you will feel so much better about yourself afterward. Sure, you may not have the money these two brats do, but you are way more with it. These girls actually sit around, pontificating about life and how much smarter and hipper they are because they are from New York and know how to dress well. For example, one girl, Jaime, was all trying to theorize about cargo pants in last nights episode, saying that she wears them for style, while people in the Midwest wear them for all the pockets when they're farming. Mind you, right before that, she and her friend Ally (Tommy Hilfiger's daughter, who gets to go to work with him and dash all the hopes and hard work of his employees when she sticks her nose up at their latest design efforts and Tommy agrees with her. Because she's 18 and from New York, ya know, and therefore knows what girls all over the world would want to wear) were discussing how great it is to be as worldly as they are, because so many people don't get to travel like they have. I assume this means they've never been to the midwest. All those people in Chicago, Minneapolis and St. Louis wearing cargo pants for farm work must be too much for them to bear.

The weird thing about this show is that the girls produce it themselves and must be in on the editing. Would you really want to look that stupid on national television? Like when they have to watch a videotape to know how horrible things in Ethopia are, then want to send them, of all things, mattresses? Then again, they could just be fame whores who will do anything to get the common folk like me to talk about them.

Tuesday, November 18, 2003

Before I recount my trip to see Hollis in Happy Valley, let me just say that Melissa and I have just returned from the new Shop Rite, and it is the coolest food store in all of Hoboken. Not only did it have my favorite peanut butter granola bars, it had soup bones. Alas, no Stouffer Oven Bakes. Sigh.

OK. So, Friday Night began, um, slowly. The 4 1/2 hour journey turned into 7 hours because of traffic that just appeared to be there to piss me off. No accidents, no foul weather. Just a bunch of drivers who probably thought "Gee, Karen should get in to see Hollis at midnight instead of 9:30, let's cause a huge backup" and so it was. I got through the frustrating hours by text messaging my roommates and Dexter and Vicki, so I thank them for keeping me sane. I was just happy my seat mate didn't want to talk to me. But she decided to sleep halfway through the trip and her ass ended up squashing me a bit.

Hollis and her roomate Nick came to meet me at a truck stop, (yes, truck stop. It was awesome.) where they whisked me away from the crazies (though there were more on the way home) and to Wegmans and then their very nice apartment.

It was a game Saturday the next day, so the town was busting at the seams with people. We sat outside the ginormous stadium at a traffic light and I got to hear the ultra creepy Nittany Lion roar, which Hollis warned me about. We went to this diner that sells the famous grilled stickey on Saturday night, and people, you have to get these things. I got to see the Lion Shrine, which Hollis says people get engaged at all the time, which is kind of beffudling because who wants a Lion statue watching over you when you get engaged? Does the Lion have to give his approval or something? Hmmm...

On Sunday, Hollis had to set up and run a dinner retreat for her hotline students and Nick and I helped bring up the catered turkey affair. It also meant we got to eat said Turkey later on for our helpfulness.

When Hollis took me back to the truckstop (which was still awesome in daylight) yesterday to catch my bus, we beat the bus in by like two seconds. Then we had to wait for all the people to get off and get back on (it was coming from Cleveland) before I could get a seat. In this time, Hollis and I appraised what weirdos would be bad to sit next to. Like the crazy Jesus-looking guy. Or the woman who talked to the bus driver like they were best friends. Or the semi-creepy guy from Youngstown who tried to engage us in conversation. We decided that my safest bet would be to sit next to the normal looking guy our age with headphones. But this little Asian woman beat me to it when it came time to board. I got all nervous as I had to keep going back on the bus, where an empty seat was available right next to Crazy Jesus and across the aisle from Youngstown Semi-Creepy Guy. Luckily, I notice this little Spanish woman sprawled out across two seats in front of YSCG and when I make eyecontact to see if I can sit, she rolls her eyes and huffs and grudgingly moves over. What the hell? Did you pay for two seats? Whatever. At least she didn't talk to me. And the ride back was much smoother, so thank god for that.

And thanks to Hollis for a rockin' weekend!

Friday, November 14, 2003

OK, is anyone really surprised about the whole baseball steroid thing? It's been more than rumored for years and anytime you see a baseball player with no neck (a la Barry Bonds, Jason Giambi and Sammy Sosa) does your mind not wonder? If it doesn't, you have a lot more faith in athletes than I do. With that said, however, Filip Bondy (a writer I used to love, mind you) again pisses me off by bringing up Aaron Boone's homer as something that will now be always under suspicion, or anytime a MLB player hit a home run for that matter. Uh, no, sorry. If Boone was jacking up on the 'roids, he should ask for his money back, because where was that power all season?

My point is, I don't think steroids make you hit home runs. They make you BULK UP to hit a ball more powerfully yes, but do they make you see the ball better? I think not. Yeah, there's more home runs because of all these bulked up players. But there are people out there who speculate about players who don't look like they're on steroids (a la Alfonso Soriano, who I'd be very shocked if he came up positive, as I could probably take on in a fight and win) and it's unfair to lump them in the same category.

Testing is way overdue in the sport, because it's the muscles that are helping these guys get all this recognition they don't deserve because they're a bunch of cheaters. But let's remember the guys out there who do hit for power naturally. I just wish MLB would let people know that you inject the illegal stuff into your muscles, and not your eyes.

I'm off to Penn State this weekend to see Hollis. This means 4 1/2 hours on a bus, and since public transportation always provides a few psychotic people for entertainment, I'm sure I'll have lots of stories to tell when I return!

Thursday, November 13, 2003

ESPN takes a cheap shot at Delaware's uniforms. If ESPN had done their research a little bit, they'd find that there's a reason the Hens copied the University of Michigan uni.
Dude, you, like, totally need to take this awesome 80s music quiz. My score was 131 and I only cheated on like 4 questions. Beat that:

Did the temperature drop that much in the past hour that it's cold enough to snow? Because that's exactly what it's doing right now, and when I came in at 9, it wasn't that chilly at all. Hmmmm....

And why do people lick their fingers before turning a page? Some guy was doing that next to me on the PATH today while reading the NY Times, which is just gross because he's licking his finger, getting news ink on it, then licking it again. Ewwwww....

Wednesday, November 12, 2003

You know, I have nothing against Angel Berroa, who beat out Matsui for Rookie of the Year. I just have a problem with the sports writers trying to justify why he won. In today's Daily News John Harper admits he put Berroa above Matsui because Berroa's defense "was critical to the Royal's over-acheiving season." I ask you, when was 24 errors ever great defense??? He had a .968 fielding percentage. Derek Jeter has a .969 and gets lambasted by the media for being not so good defensively. Am I missing something here?

Tuesday, November 11, 2003

In sad news, one of WFAN's mainstays in calling, Doris from Rego Park, has passed away. Even though she was a Mets fan, she was OK with me. She knew her stuff and followed the Mets through the good and the bad. I heard they had a thread about her on the WFAN message board that had to be taken off because people were making fun of her. What the hell is the matter with people? The poor woman suffered from cancer and apparently elephant man's disease, she seemed like a decent human being and these jackasses have to go and practically dance on her grave to get their jollies off. You can only hope that the people who were callus enough to post something rotten about her will get their comeuppance in life. And hopefully sooner than later.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mike Greenberg for this excellent viewpoint on the Matsui debacle. At least one sports-oriented person has some common sense.

Monday, November 10, 2003

Bull F'ing Shit! If you give Suzuki the Rookie of the Year, you have to give it to Matsui, too. This is absolute Yankee hating at it's finest, my friends, and that a decent player had to suffer from it because sports writers are bitter asses is just disgusting. Yeah, he's no rookie, but again, you had NO PROBLEM giving it to Suzuki when it was his time. ARGH!
OK, so the air conditioning is on at work today....

I'm wondering which pretty blonde's story made the big ratings last night -- Jessica Lynch's or Elizabeth Smart's? My money is going on Smart because that story invovled really psychotic people and who doesn't love a good psycho story where it has a happy ending? I actually watched a bit of it, and it kind of bothered me in it's portrayal of Polly Klass' father. Apparently, he wanted an interview with the family for Fox News right after the kidnapping and the docudrama made this out to look all kinds of evil. What bugged me was 1)This guy's daughter was brutally murdered so to be portrayed in such a way in this story where the daughter in question was found alive is just tasteless and 2)I'm sure there were tons of journalists bugging them for an interview. Fox News is a bit, um, out of control, but seriously. You can't tell me CNN wasn't banging down their door the minute it happened.

And it's clementine season! Melissa and I each bought cases last night, so we'll be all citrused out by Thanksgiving...

Friday, November 07, 2003

A woman at work was just saying she thinks 5'7"-5'8" is the average height for a man. Dear god, I hope not. Because while it seems like every guy in Manhattan/Hoboken is shorter than me, I know for a fact that the average height for an American man is 5'10"-5'11". Where are they all? Well, I'm guessing not the metro area. Except maybe Sasquatch and his brother who are pretty tall, and their loud feet are prime example of that.

Someone just brought in a very cute dog to the office and it was like having a baby here with all the ooohing and ahhing. It's amazing how an animal can put you in a better mood.

Thursday, November 06, 2003

Reason No. 5,436 why The O.C. rocks -- Sandy, the dad, has a picture of what looks like Yankee Stadium in his office. Why is this so significant (other than that I'm a Yankee fan)? Well, he's supposed to be a very laid-back, humble guy who comes from a poor background (the Bronx) who tries to keep his integrity among the rich people of SoCal. To have a picture of "the richest team" in baseball on his wall, showing he's a Yankee fan (and remembering his Bronx roots) proves that, yes, even Yankee fans can be decent people. It would've been really cliche if he had a photo of, say, Ebbetts Field on his wall, as everyone associates the "pull-up-by-the-bootstraps" mentality with true blue Brooklyn Dodger fans. I thank the producers for this.

And The Chicken is almost ready to talk about the loss. He doesn't remember Don Mattingly, so there's been little to cheer him up lately. But when he's ready, a Dear Chicken will appear here, which I'm sure delights you all.

Wednesday, November 05, 2003

OK, there totally needs to be some guidelines set when it comes to golf umbrella etiquette in New York City. Because I am sick of getting nearly harpooned by them when they are closed. This morning, for example, this dude on a cell phone (surprise, surprise) had his closed, but he was carrying it horizontally in his free hand. With every movement forward, the umbrella pushed back, the deadly tip of which almost got me in the leg. He's too busy being Chatty Cathy to notice or even care. If you're going to carry the damn thing, carry it close to your person in the upright position. And PLEASE don't use it as a walking stick. That sometimes works in spearing somebody in the foot. Thank you.

I think the only thing weirder than HBO's Carnivale is the fact that I actually like it. They had a marathon this weekend which I got sucked into, despite its completely strange nature. But whoever is writing it has a knack for keeping you waiting and wanting to see what comes about next because you know it's going to be a "holy crap!" moment when you find some of the stuff their hiding out. Even weirder than all that is the fact that dirt can actually make someone good looking because I don't find the show's protaganist, Nick Stahl, all that attractive in real life but the fact that he's filthy on the show pushes him into the range of semi hottness. Go figure.

Tuesday, November 04, 2003

If you want a really good laugh, watch "Average Joe." I didn't think I'd like it, but it totally makes fun of itself as it goes on. Some of the guys are just as annoying as the girls on The Bachelor, so that makes it worth watching, too. My friend Ken just cracked me up by quoting the one cocky-ass dude who was like "Every woman must be approached like a snowflake. Each one is different and delicate" or something cheesy like that. If he weren't arrogant, it wouldn't be funny.

And Don Mattingly is coming back! Even if it is just as hitting coach, how exciting! Does he get to wear his old number even though it's retired? Hmmmm....

Monday, November 03, 2003

We are all suffering from major cases of "swampy ass" here at the office on this 6,000 degree afternoon. Actually, my thermometer says 83 degrees, which is bad for indoors in November. And the fact that some people don't want us to open windows around the office isn't helping...
There is just too much estrogen in my life. I live with two women. I work with women and gay men. This all spells out no straight male interaction on weekdays, and my straight male friends are all busy bees lately, as am I, so getting to see them is tough. I'm not even talking about romance here, I mean normal male-female conversation that I was lucky enough to have from kindergarten to senior year of college and into my McGraw-Hill days. Don't get me wrong, the women I'm friends with and my roommates rock, but there needs to be some testosterone in my day somewhere.

Carolyn's friend Erin ran the marathon yesterday, and finished with a better time than P. Diddy. For some reason, that cracked me up.

Friday, October 31, 2003

This has to be the coolest story ever. 20 Catholic school girls beating the hell out of a sexual predator. I love hearing that stuff.
I never had as many colds or allergy trouble as I have in the time I've been at my current job. I escaped the germyness of college, probably the most disease infected time in anyone's life, with only 2 colds in the four years I was there. At McGraw, I NEVER had a cold. But when I get to this side of Manhattan, I come down with sinus trouble at least two-three times a year. What the hell? I highly suspect this place is infested with some kind of allergen/germ, but will it ever get cleaned out? Probably not. So for now, Tonya has given me some sudafed, which means I'll be bouncing off the walls in no time.

Thursday, October 30, 2003

I'd just like to point out to all these reporters who try to sound so deep and smart by longing for the days of Paul O'Neill and Scott Brosius are the very same ones who complained the Yankees couldn't be considered a great team back then because they didn't have a "Superstar." That's right, in 1998, people were saying left and right that the Yankees lacked star-power, and therefore their record couldn't mean as much in the grand scheme of things. You can look it up. Now all these writers, reporters, TV people come out and say that's when the Yankees were good because of no-name players who got the job done. Well why the hell did it take you so long to appreciate it? Jeez...
UGH! Why is it that when I come up with a short story idea (to be used for submital to YM and Seventeen's fiction sections, which looks way good when writing to publishers) I start thinking "Wow, this would make a better long, novel-sized story." I'm not cabaple of thinking in short story terms -- I think I've written maybe two short stories in my entire life. It is not in me to write a little, I guess. It's kind of frustrating.
18 years ago today I acquired my Bischer scar. Only the klutziest of Bischers are lucky enough to get the scar under the chin, the result of some brain lapse moment. Mine was in the 3rd grade, during my lunch period, when I was coming back into the classroom after throwing out the remains of my lunch in the big hallway garbage can (my elementary school didn't have a cafeteria, for some weird reason. But then again, I wouldn't have gotten my scar if they did have one, so there you go.) So, I was wearing dress shoes that day, and our floor was kind of dusty and combine that with me 1) being born a klutz and 2)probably thinking about Halloween the next day, I somehow managed to trip and knock my chin on the corner of a desk. I thought I'd just bruised it or something, and I went up to the lunch aid and was like "did I hurt my chin?" and she's all horrified looking and bustling for one of my classmates to take me to the nurse. For some odd reason, I'd been cupping my chin in my hand and when I looked down, my hand was covered in blood. Pretty scary stuff for an 8 year old, especially one who associates blood like that to having to go the doctor and therby probably having to get a shot, the worst thing of all. When I did get to the doctor (instead of taking me to a hospital where I would've been freaked out, my mom smartly took me to my regular doctor, who, by the way, is now Bruce Springsteen's kids' doctor), he put this piece of paper over my face at one point, which I assumed was to help with something doctorish. I now realize it was to keep me from seeing a needle and thread coming at me and to not let me see the big ass shot of novacain or whatever he shot me up with to numb my chin.

I got lots of sympathy in the coming days. I had to wear a gigantic bandaid under my chin, which didn't exactly go well with my princess costume the next day, and everyone looked at me like it was so traumatic to have to have stitches (all three of them) on Halloween. But to me the crapload of attention was extremely fun.

My grandfather, my dad and my cousin Joseph all managed to get a chin scar, the result of a klutzy moment, so it was only a matter of time before I earned mine (though I beat my cousin in getting mine first). It makes me wonder if any of my anscestors, like, walked through the Black Forest one day and tripped over a rock, splitting his/her chin open. I mean, it would've been Octoberfest back then, so anything is possible...

Wednesday, October 29, 2003

Now it's time for today's feature presentation: It Took Me 2 1/2 Hours to Get to Work Today, starring:
Karen Bischer and her newfound cold
Carolyn Brady and her leaky window
The badass rain storm
The cab that never showed up
The 45 minutes worth of traffic outside the Lincoln Tunnel

And special guest star: Sasquatch!

It all started when I thought I was so smart and going to beat the long bus-to-the-PATH-when-it-rains line by leaving my apartment at 7:45. Unfortunately, I didn't count on a monsoon when I got outside. I waited for the bus for like 3 minutes, in which time I got completely drenched despite my umbrella. And the line for the bus was still long, which meant the lines uptown were long and I figured I wasn't going to get on a bus. I started feeling sick last night, so not wanting to take any chances, I headed back home to change and call a cab to the PATH. Carolyn hadn't left yet (she was trying to keep her window from seeping out any more rain than it already had) and was all for this, so she called up our trusty cab company and they told her 15 minutes.

40 minutes later, we're waiting for the cab in our lobby, watching all these buses to Port Authority go by. Carolyn calls to bitch out the cab company (she'd already called after 20 minutes and they told her 4 minutes more), and they hang up on her. But as we're waiting, who should come thumping down the stairs and out the door but Sasquatch! In a suit!

"Hey," he says to us, smiling, to which we reply "Hi." He then snaps his umbrella up and is gone in an flash. Can I tell you, that was like the second time I've seen him face to face since we moved in? He's like the real Sasquatch in that way -- people believe he exists, but there is sometimes little visual proof to back it up. Carolyn's all like "That was the most polite I've ever seen him," and when I told her it sounded like he had some, uh, action going on last night (for the first time in awhile), it totally explained it.

We gave up on the cab and waited about 15 minutes for the Port Authority bus, and when we finally get on, we get hit with the traffic jam to beat all traffic jams (the girl next to me actually started eating her lunch) and don't pull into NYC till about 10 a.m. Carolyn and I are to the point of giggling as we run for the subway, which thankfully comes fast and I got in to work at 10:20.

And irony of ironies, by the time I got off the subway, the sun was coming out. Sigh.

But at least we got to see Sasquatch!

Tuesday, October 28, 2003

So, I watched two very interesting documentaries last night. The first was "Fat Like Me" which showed the rampant rate at which kids gain weight today, and what it's like to go undercover as an overweight kid in high school. The kids were downright assholes to this poor girl who donned a fat suit and thick glasses and it was great to see them get their comeuppance when they found out the girl was really of average weight. But it did kind of irk me. While overweight kids may be a target whose numbers have grown, they don't have the market cornered on high school suffering. Kids with acne, kids with bad hair, kids with different fashion ideas, kids of "different" sexual orientation, kids with speech impediments, kids who are shy, kids who are poor, kids who are smart, kids who aren't white, kids who are unathletic, on and on and on -- they ALL get picked on and I'm sure it doesn't hurt any less than someone getting picked on for their weight. This show made it look like they were the ONLY kids to getting teased. Maybe it's time we did more shows on bullying, period, because that's another epidemic sweeping the country and only getting worse as time goes on.

Then there's "Born Rich" on HBO, which actually makes you happy about being middle class. I never realized being rich was like being part of another culture. You know how you look at the Amish and wonder how they survive being in such a minority? Well, this documentary will make you think the same thing about rich people. And I'm not talking about your run of the mill doctor or lawyer. These kids come from long lineages of wealth, and would never have to work a day in their life. I don't think many of them do work. But so many of them appear to be feeling almost GUILTY for being rich and don't know how to deal with it. Most of the interviewees seemed pretty nice and even down-to-earth (Donald Trump's daughter, for one), but a few you just want to slap for being so stuck in their wealth that they think anyone who wouldn't sign a pre-nup is "gold-digging" " ungrateful bitch". Also, you know the materialistic people you know in life that you think are "rich snobs"? Well, they're just rich snob wannabes because there's no way they'd get accepted into these circles (it's all about being born into it, you see). It's almost humorous to realize that.

Monday, October 27, 2003

The Daily News can kiss my ass. Yes, my once favorite NY newspaper can go along with Jim Caple and scratch with a broken beer bottle. Today's issue not only says the Yankees "Dynasty" is dead, they call for Joe Torre to retire. EXCUSE ME? They made it to the freaking World Series! Is Bobby Cox still the manager of Atlanta despite ONE title in all the years he's been manager? George's comments, that he wants to do whatever it is to get a strong team, are the only ones I agree with. You don't get rid of Joe Torre just because the stupid ass NY media needs a guy who will give them more material (I.E. whiny, temper-tantrum Backpage material). Torre, remember, was a managerial genius for the reporters with all his ALCS Game 7 moves.

I can totally understand why people don't want to play here. When you're good, you get lifted up on the arms of an entire city. When you're down, the reporters will be the first ones to kick you in the teeth. I'm not saying the truth should be kept silent, that the Yanks need to do a hell of a lot more in the coming off season; that a new batting coach needs to be hired; that Soriano needs some help in decisive swinging, etc. But acting like this is some kind of apocolypse for the team is just wrong. I'm not jumping ship and acting like a spoiled child.

But then maybe that's why I decided to leave journalism behind in college.

Sunday, October 26, 2003

How to survive a Yankee World Series loss:

Turn on VH1 Classic and sing along to the following:
We Are the World
Monkey (George Michael Classic)
Cold Hearted (as in Ssssssssnake)

Watch Fraternity Life. Note big tools.

As for people who think the Marlins “stunned,” “shocked,” “overcame,” the Yankees, they obviously ignored what they did the first two rounds of the playoffs. Because I was nowhere near “shocked” by what the Marlins did. They’re a good team, despite their sucky fans, and I’m not even going into the payroll. Money garauntees you nothing, so all these NY papers who need a story so badly so they trash that the Yanks because they’re the highest paid team should take a step back and look at what really wins you championships: Doing the right things at the right times. The Benjamins don’t take the field, people.

The Game started on a funny note. Tonya came over, and we were so not willing to deal with The FAT, that we turned on the SAP button, and man, what a difference a language makes! Especially when saying “Fouuuuuuuuler.”

I guess we have to blame Game 7 against the Sox for this one, because Game 1 got off to a bad start by having to use Wells. But if using all our pitchers at the “wrong” time and losing the World Series means we still got to see the Yankees beat Boston in such a satisfying way, well then I’ll take it. Because that was like, the greatest game EVER. You don’t get that too often.

From the intense moments before Opening Day, when I stood with bated breath, waiting to see if we’d get the YES Network or not (we did, like five minutes before the first pitch), to Derek going down, to Matsui’s Grand Slam (which I hold accountable for getting rid of a nasty fever) to a Jelly Donut on the train tracks, to getting no hit by the Astros, then going on an absolute tear after that when most sports writers were like “stick a fork in them, the Yanks are done”, to Clemens’ 300th win (with TINO! there, who hit two homer two days later), to the resurgence of Mariano Rivera, to the Players of the Week, to Guy the Godzilla, Gary the Horse, Cousin Bert and all The Chicken’s new friends, to eeking out 10 wins to the Red Sox 9 (which was HUGE later on), to watching the first game against the Twins at work, to freezing at the ALDS game 2, to game 2 of the ALCS, to the Pedro/Zimmer incident, to Boone’s home run (aaahhh), it was all one hell of a ride.

Now I get my sleep and regular TV-viewing back. But for some reason, I can’t help but think -- I’m really sad this season is over.

113 days till Pitchers and Catchers….

Saturday, October 25, 2003

Im. Not. Talking. About. It.

Friday, October 24, 2003

Oh, I forgot the biggest news of yesterday. Contrary to the rumors, Sasquatch is apparently renewing his lease. I know my faithful readers will be so psyched by this news. Melissa ran into his roommate yesterday who said they wanted to stay another year, thereby eradicating yet another year of sleep for me. This does mean, however, I can have two years worth of stories for my upcoming memoir "Sasquatch and Me: Life Lessons Learned from a Big-Footed Neighbor." Well, at least he's a Yankees fan...
I'd like to thank the NY Post for the most uncharacteristic (read: optimistic) headline I've read in years following a Yankee loss: Down, But Not Out. Because, dude, it ain't over till it's over.

Yankee fans can not go into this weekend with a defeatist attitude. Anyone whining that this shouldn't have gotten to Game 6, obviously haven't taken the Marlins seriously and obviously don't realize that there are other, eliminated teams would give their eye teeth to actually be IN THE WORLD SERIES. They are totally capable of winning two games in a row IF they start hitting when they're supposed to (ie, not with two out in the 9th). But the fans can make a HUGE difference. We need the obnoxious Yankee fans out there in all their unbridled, heckling glory. We need the constant "Let's Go Yankees" chant. We need to scare the shit out of Florida and let them know they can not win IN OUR HOUSE.

Oh, and last night when they cut away to the Fox Box to make an important annoucement about Tim McCarver, I got so excited that he might be announcing his retirement. But, alas, it was to announce that he's got the most World Series games as a broadcaster under his belt. To me, that was more of a let-down than the loss...

And Happy Birthday to Carolyn, who is 27 today! Or, as I like to put it, one more year closer to retirement!

Thursday, October 23, 2003

YIKES! Yanni is performing the national anthem tonight!!! Weird New-Age vibes all around!

Please, Yankees -- DON'T MAKE EYE CONTACT.
I'm feeling a little down at the moment. Tonya and I have been scouring Web pages to find any decently priced World Series tickets, and alas, there is non such thing. I'm actually kind of pissed, because I see these people on eBay and other sites who have obviously bought these tickets with the intent to make a fat profit off of them. Think of how many REAL fans could've gone to the games if not for these jackasses. And then there are the people who will go and just don't care. They'll leave in the 7th "to beat traffic". They're the reason I'm feeling like Charlie from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory today -- all these spoiled, undeserving brats getting tickets, when there's no way in hell I'm going to find a "golden ticket" for Game 6 for Tonya and me at the bottom of a sewer. Sigh.

Oh, and I think there is some kind of almond M&M conspiracy going on. The A&P didn't have them (every kind but almond) and the Duane Reade across the street from my office is out of them. I think bitter Met fans may have bought them all, just to keep the Yankees from winning....
Anyone blaming Weaver for last night's loss needs their head checked. The Yanks should have won that game WAY earlier, back in the early innings when they had the bases loaded and NO ONE OUT. They should have won it when Sierra was standing on third after his bases-clearing triple. They should have won it when they had the bases loaded and one out in the 11th. Jeff Weaver gives them one strong inning, then makes one bad pitch. After not pitching for AN ENTIRE MONTH. I'm not the man's biggest fan, but to say the loss is entirely his fault (Hello, back pages of Daily News and NY Post) is far from the truth.

Giambi and Boone -- consider yourselves spanked.

However, I don't think the game was the biggest surprise of the night. The Bachelor Bob dumping psycho Lee-Ann -- now THERE'S a shocker.

Wednesday, October 22, 2003

Gee, I don't know Tim McCarver, is hitting a home run after being pitched way inside the best feeling for a player? If I had to hear him say "Nuthin' feels better...Nuthin'" I was going to throw something at the TV.

Roger is too pumped. Maybe he wants to watch "The Bachelor."
So it was all about Moooooooose and Booooooone and DEREK! and BERNIE! and my prediction for MVP if the Yanks should win the Series, Matsui, last night. I like seeing them get offensive, even if most of it happened AFTER Mussina was done pitching.

Apparently, Yanni is Ivan Rodgriguez's music idol or something. Would you ever have thunk it?

My favorite part of the game was when Joe Buck got all smarmy and was like "Aaron Boone is 1 for 11 this post season" and on the next pitch, he belts it out for another home run. Make that 2 for 12, Buck-eroo!

Which Clemens will we get tonight -- the too fired up to pitch well Clemens or the wow, where did that calmness come from Clemens? As long as Yanni isn't sending any weird New Age vibes out again, I think he'll be OK.

Tuesday, October 21, 2003

Oh my god. David Cassidy???? As Carolyn said, "I don't even know where to go with this." And "He's wearing more makeup than Jeannie Zelasko" and "Jorge is praying "Please make it stop. And I don't mean the rain.'"
Can the Marlins have any weirder celebrities in the crowd? Yanni? Mike Tyson? It totally doesn't compare to the time Hollis and I went to a Yankee game and Michael Bolton sang the national anthem, but random is random is random.

Plus, I think Yanni was sending some weird New Age vibes Boone's way, therefore causing the error. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Things bugging me today:

1) People who say "Well the Yankees have already won so much, you shouldn't feel bad if they lose." Uh, put your own team in the Yankees' place. Would you be rooting for them to lose just so "another team can have a chance?" I didn't think so.

2)Guys who say they are Yankee fans (and even dress in Yankee garb), yet don't know all the retired numbers (a great lithmus test). I find it extremely amusing that I probably watch at least 10 times the games they watch a year. These are the fellas who we call "Lazy Yankee Fans." While they do know the players and aren't exactly front-runners, they don't do their homework, either.

3)The assumption that Yankee fans are only happy when their team is winning and therefore, every other team's fans have more heart than you do. I say, to hell with that. I loved this team when their best starting pitcher was Melido Perez. I'll still love them whenever this dyansty decides to come to an end. And I'm sure there are other Yankee fans who would say the same thing.
So this Dr. Phil commercial just came on and says something like "You should have six months worth of money in savings just in case" and I think "Who the hell can afford that?" Doesn't that mean HALF your salary? Or does he mean just have enough money to get you through six months??? If it's half the salary, that's damn near impossible. I lived at home for a year and saved less than a third of my salary, but that's it...

Monday, October 20, 2003

Oh, and what is with Sheila E. at the beginning of the Fox games? And the sucky people singing the National Anthem (Clay is OK and all, but it was total network synergy going on on Satuday night)? And the "which city has the better nightlife" question? And where was Challenger?

The microphones that seem to be everywhere but the men's bathroom have GOT TO GO. It doesn't make me feel any closer to the game to hear Nick Johnson's cleats making contact with first base. Or Bernie Williams sounding like a truck hitting the outfield wall, rather than a normal sized man.

Thank god "Skin" premieres tonight, because now they'll probably stop showing the commercial for it 6 million times per game. In 2001, it was the 24 ad I could recite. This one is climbing right up there...
OK, Fox REALLY has to stop with their crappy pre-game stuff. Re-enacting the coming of the 1903 World Series, with Bruce Springsteen's "My Hometown" playing in the background is SOOOOOOOO unneccesary. First off, the acting was terrible. Secondly, wrong song choice. They're just reaching for sentimentality, and that's a bad thing.

The game rocked. The funniest thing about Matsui's homer -- he's standing there with the 3-0 count and I go "A homer would be nice, Godzilla," and on the next pitch he slams it out of the park. Carolyn was like "Holy crap!" and I was just like "Thanks, Hideki!"

Bitter, party of one, your table is now available. My dad tipped me off to this article, which is just the dumbest excuse to fill space I've read in a long time. If the Yanks don't mention their 12 losses (in 38 World Series attempts), what's the big deal? Does he think we don't remember 2001? I don't need to be reminded of it every time I go to Yankee Stadium, and I don't see any other team reliving their not-so-glory days (ahem, Atlanta Braves).

And the writer thinks that 26-win sign is just there to inspire and intimidate. So any stadium that posts their World Series wins is evil? The Yanks have 26 world titles -- I'd sure as hell be pissed if they didn't tout that. Shoud they go back and lose them all just to appease Mr. Anderson? Please, sir, go back to the playpen until your tantrum is over.

Sunday, October 19, 2003

Ah, I love it when a sportswriter shows just how damn ignorant they are. Especially when it's Jim Caple:

"They had won their past 10 World Series games at Yankee Stadium, including the memorable Byung-Hyun Kim games in 2001, the Clemens-Piazza melee during the Subway Series and the Jim Leyritz home run game in 1996."

HELLO!!!!! Jim Leyrtiz hit that home run in ATLANTA which was all the more exciting because it was the second of the three games they swept in ATLANTA.

Unfortunately, there is no address at which to write to him. Sigh.

As for Game 1, wash it out of your hair and send it on it's way, guys.

Saturday, October 18, 2003

To all of the sportswriters and supposed baseball lovers who needed this f'ing Sox/Cubs World Series to be excited about baseball -- go screw yourselves.

I am SO tired of everyone whining that this isn't going to be a great Series, that it's going to be so boring, that it's the big bad Yankees against the no-name Marlins. What is your problem, people (especially the writers)? Oh I know, you wanted this "dream" match up because you needed a reason to watch. You're absolutely a detriment to the game of baseball. Unless you were a Sox/Cubs fan, who have every right to be disappointed right now. I garuantee you, if their teams were in the Series against the Marlins or the Yankees, they wouldn't be whining that they aren't playing the other loveable loser club. Because the World Series, regardless of who's playing in it, is still the WORLD F'ING SERIES.

People don't complain when the Super Bowl has two "Boring" teams -- the ratings speak for themselves when it comes to that. If people aren't watching baseball, it's because they don't like baseball, plain and simple. And THAT's the problem -- not this "dream match up" that would attract a fan for 4-7 games, who could care less when the season is over.

Two weeks ago, I told my dad "wouldn't it be great if it was a Yankees/Marlins World Series" just to shut up all these reporters who just assumed it would be Cubs/Sox because of "fate" and "destiny". Because when you say stuff like that, you're basically telling the fans of the other teams "Sorry, the faith and love you feel for your team is uncool unless you want to see a "curse" broken." Oh, please.

(On a side note, I'd just like to say that when reading the Sports Guy's (a big Red Sox fan) column yesterday, he noted how "likeable" his team was. Au contraire. I read at least three other columnists who were feeling the way MANY fans feel now about the Red Sox, and that was their cocky attitude was grating on people. So I guess it all depends on who you talk to.)

The Yankees and Marlins earned their way into this because of what they did on the field for 162 games, plus their postseason grit. The same way it would've been if the Cubs and Red Sox made it into this final round. I wish people would stop trying to take that away from Yankees and Marlins.

So go on and bitch and moan that you needed a cliche to get excited over the World Series and didn't get it. I feel more sorry for you than I do Cubs/Red Sox fans.

Friday, October 17, 2003

I don't even think I can put into words the amazingness/awesomeness of last night, but I'll try.

First off, know that everyone in NY was pretty cautious going into this game, especially after Wednesday night's debacle, and knowing Pedro was in town. It's not like everyone was expecting a loss, it was just that we knew it was going to be extra tough to scratch out a win.

So The Chicken and I head back to Middletown last night, as I've found only three places I can watch the Yankees and not feel like I'm jinxing them by doing so -- Yankee Stadium, my office and the home where I grew up. The apartment I pay for in Hoboken and NYC bars? Not so good for the ALCS. This time my dad and I allow my mom to watch the game (we banned her from Game 7 of the 2001 World Series because every time she turned on the TV, something bad happened). Because the second she gets up to go to the bathroom, the Red Sox homer and take the 2-0 lead, and you don't mess with that kind of thing.

With it 4-0, my dad starts muttering and The Chicken looks upset, so I take the opportunity to call Tonya, who is in Illinois for a college function. I get her voicemail, which leads me to believe she has left the hotel and watched the game elsewhere, amid depressed Cubs fans and Yankee haters. I also remember my friend Jill is at this game, and I hope she's not taking it too hard at this point.

And then comes Jason Giambi with his first and second home runs, to give us back a little hope. Mind you, at this point, I've ditched the green almond M&M's because they didn't work the first few innings. Mussina comes in and is the pitcher I always defend to people who don't feel he's a big-game guy. And then Wells gives up the homer to Ortiz, who just plain scared the crap out of me all season, earning his nickname "Scary Man." It was deflating as all hell. And then came the bottom of the 8th.

After the top of the 8th, my mom wonders why I've got all the green almond M&M's taken out of the bag. I explain to her the philosophy and she's all like "Well, you should be eating them." So, in a defiant moment, I grab all the green almond M&M's and shove them in my mouth and chew and swallow, not sure what it's going to do.

I think I shall eat green almond M&M's before all of life's big occassions, from now on.

Anyway, Pedro is finally chased from the game because the Yankee big bats finally came alive, the Stadium is going nuts and my dad and I start quoting the cartoon "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," where the Winter Warlock loses his magic powers when he becomes good, and then quietly asks for a little more magic when there's a big moment.

Oh, shut up. Like you haven't done crazy shit like this in an effort to get your beloved team a win? Yeah, I thought so.

But the Yanks leave the bases loaded, which kind of sucks, but the biggest part of the inning is that they tied the game, so I'm content at that point. And plus, Fox comes back and while 2/3 of the FAT are babbling about something, I hear "Enter Sandman" in the background and know Mariano is in there.

Just know that we have a weird/awesome playoff tradition in the Bischer house of making all the inanimate objects of our basement (where the TV is) watch the game -- the Frank Sinatra doll, these strange "Uga-booga" tiki men my grandparents bought on vacation, the Abbott and Costello "Who's on First?" dolls and Crazy Harry from the Muppet Show, are turned on their shelves to face the television, along with The Chicken. I mean, whatever works, right? So this time int he 8th, my dad turns this old sailor statue toward the TV and brings down the Old Geezer doll from the kitchen, just to see what will happen.And now you all know where I get it from. But you're not laughing because you know what happened after the 8th inning, so I rest my case. Don't knock superstition, folks.

Mariano does his thing (and he is no more "disenchanted") and my mom's starting to say she wants to go to bed, but we don't let her. So she gets a chicken cutlet sandwich, and I ask my dad "Should I wear the Chicken picture like I've done the past two Thursdays (when I was actually at the games)" even though it's now technically Friday. My dad's like "pull out all the stops."

I told my mom after the top of the 11th I was going to stand in the bottom of the inning because that's what I'd do if I was at the game. She just looks at me like I'm nuts, but she's my mom and all and doesn't say anything. Aaron Boone comes to the plate and she asks if he's any good, I shake my hand side to side as if to say "Eh." And with Tim Wakefield in there, I feel kind of discouraged.

Until the first pitch, that is.

Boone, a.k.a. "Sleepy's Brother" is suddenly Mr. Clutch and I am suddenly "OH MY GOD" ing and jumping up and down and screaming for the ball to stay fair. It does. I scream some more, jumping up and down as I watch him round the bases, my dad's out of his seat clapping and my mom looks mucho impressed.

I bound up the stairs to call Tonya (my bedroom at my parents' is the only place I get cell phone reception) and am all sorts of out-of-breath and screaming when I get leave her a voicemail (and notice there were three missed calls from her). I call Carolyn who is very freaking excited herself and I have her make sure my TV in Hoboken is taping the correct channel this time (I got Spanish-language TV instead of Fox for Tuesday's game) and it is, so I now have another tape to pull out when I need a Yankee fix.

Tonya and I finally get in touch and she screams that she's the only Yankee fan at a bar in Illinois with a few friends and she's in the bathroom, a bit tipsy (she was numbing herself through the losing innings) and celebrating the Yankee victory. I forgot to ask her if she was eating the M&M's too...

So there you have it, one of the greatest games I've ever witnessed and more delight than I've felt since almost 1996. Because to beat the Red Sox, a team I've hated/feared beyond belief the past few weeks (except for Nomar, who I respect immensly) is one big mother f'ing deal in my book. I still don't think there's a word to describe the sensation of seeing the ball leave Boone's bat, but maybe I'll come up with one in time.

For now, we'll leave it at Freaking Amazing.
OH MY GOD!!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!

Aaron's spanking WORKED!!!!!!

HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!

Thursday, October 16, 2003

Today is an impromptu Take Your Chicken to Work day, as I'm going down to Middletown tonight to visit my parents for the weekend, and The Chicken, of course, has to come along. This meant he had to come with me to work, and he is so very excited -- he hasn't been in NYC since 1999. He got to ride with the commuters, read the backpages of people's newspapers on the PATH, see screaming firetrucks, pass the Yankees store, see three guys smoking pot on the sidewalk at 9 a.m., ride in an elevator and see my cubicle. And the day is still young...

Wednesday, October 15, 2003

Yankees I want to take over my knee and spank (and not in a good way):
Jose Contreras -- whap!
Jason Giambi -- smack!
Aaron Boone -- I. Told. You. Not. To. Swing. At. Bad. Pitches.
Gabe White -- slap!

But a spanking doesn't mean I love them any less. There is time to redeem themselves.

I have to admit, it was pretty cool when the Yanks came back and guys who passed the bar I was waiting outside were like "The Yanks are winning now? No shit!" Everyone in the city was paying attention to it, even the homeless people I passed. Totally cool stuff.

Tomorrow night, it'll be me, my dad and The Chicken, "against all odds."

Tonya will be watching from a hotel room in the midwest, by herself. May the force be with her.

And don't think my sense of humor has been dented by this evening's outcome. Someone found my blog by searching for "Tim McCarver Needs To Die" and I am so giggly over this at the moment, it is putting me in a better mood minute by minute.

Keep the faith, people!
To all you weirdos looking up Jeannie Zelasko -- YOU'RE NOT GOING TO FIND ANY PHOTOS OF HER HERE. SO LOOK ELSEWHERE.Thank you, and have a nice day.
David Wells is my new best friend. That's what I told my friend Jill before yesterday's game -- if he won, he'd get elevated status in my life and I keep my word about these things. So David, you can come to my next party, if you'd like.

And why did it take a 7-game series to get the Marlins any respect? All we've heard about the past week is the Cubs this, the Cubs that, and meanwhile, the Marlins knocked off the Giants who many thought were going to win the World Series this year. Just because the Marlins don't have a fuzzy-wuzzy media friendly story doesn't mean they can be counted out.

What to do, what to do about today's 4 p.m. start. Do I go to a bar after work? Stay at work and watch it? Run home? I like having this kind of decision to make...

Tuesday, October 14, 2003

OK, maybe I'm going to sound like an elitist or something for saying this, but I think non-sports fans, or as Tonya said, even non-Yankee and non-Red Sox fans should keep their mouths shut on what happened on Saturday. Because no one understands the Yanks/Sox rivalry like a Yanks/Sox fan/player. All these people (not related to either team) who are whining that the players are big babies, what a black eye on the sport, etc., didn't get the grand scheme of things that day. Sure, it looks terrible, but man, what theater it created. When all of it was going down while I was in the car, my juices got going, even more so than just being excited over a playoff game. It made me want the Yanks to kick ass even more. Even John Sterling said that even though it was a terrible thing to have happened, the passion that came out of it was something else. I'm dying to see the ratings for last night's game because I think it would only draw more interest, maybe for the wrong reasons (ie, people wanting to see a fight), but isn't this what MLB has wanted? If you're going to use promotion nights to get people out to the ballpark, which is a baseball's way of saying it doesn't trust people to show up just because they want to see baseball, what's wrong with wanting to see a little rivalry in action? Even if the rest of the nation won't get the real meaning behind it...
Uuuuuggghhhhhh. Our network server has been down at work for almost 4 hours which means no work has been done and we're on our crazy-deadline schedule today. All this means I'm going to be stuck here through the majority of, no wait, the entire game. Sigh. Tonya's run out to buy the M&Ms, sensing the crisis that will be this afternoon.

Am I the only one who thinks Mussina actually has a right to be pissed about last night's loss? Because, seriously, the man goes out and pitches a good ballgame and his offense had TONS of opportunities to bring runs across the plate but failed to do so. I'm not exactly sure it was just the knuckleball that baffled the Yanks, either, because they were swinging at stuff practically 12 feet out of the strikezone. They were pressing too hard and not using any patience and vioila! You lose. Moose kept them in the game, and sorry, but scoring only one run till the 9th inning isn't going to win you anything against the Red Sox in Fenway. Now it's time for Giambi, Soriano, Boone and the other Yankee free swingers to get on the offense bus and get a one way ticket to hitsville because striking out, lining out, popping out, etc., isn't exactly the key to success. But they know this, I suppose.

Wow. Safe to say I'm in a snit today.

But the game's on at 4, so it's something to get psyched about. It's after the soaps are on, so we should be able to keep an eye on it if all gets done in a timely fashion...

Saturday, October 11, 2003

I write this message bruised and battered, my arms feeling like they're going to fall off. What's that you say? Did I get into a fight with Pedro Martinez? Uh, no. I went hiking. Actually, it was a majority of major rock-climbing at Mohonk Resort in New Paltz. It was suggested by my friend Liana that we (her, me, Nancy, Kurt and a friend of of Liana's from work) head up there to see the foliage. But to see that foliage I ended up using every muscle I own and now feel like a punching bag. But it was soooooooooooooooo cool. It's awesome to know you can get yourself up a mountain just by strength you didn't even know you had (shout out to Kurt, the wiley explorer, for carrying my backpack for a bit. I got a little lightheaded at one point, probably from lack of sleep, and without the backpack on, I felt 100 times better. Go figure.) and when we made it to the top it was to see the awsesomest view I've seen in a long time. We had fun, too, quoting movies (Like Dirty Dancing because the place reminded me of Kellerman's from the movie, and when we passed a sign for the Employee's cottages, Nancy and I simultaneously said "I carried a watermelon."), eating lunch, taking pictures, making fun of the obnoxious climbers with loud voices. What a day. I'm so glad Liana suggested it.

So all this meant I had to listen to part of the game in the car. When I heard about Garcia getting hit, the near brawl, Evil Manny overreacting to a high pitch, the next near brawl and Zimmer getting tossed to the ground, I was freaking out. I called my parents, and my dad told me the funniest thing -- even Tim McCarver was saying Manny overreacted. I almost fainted. We got home and saw the rest of the game, but then I got home and saw the rest of the brawl inning on tape, and I loved how Fox trotted out Clemens' beaning of Piazza, as if to say "We don't want to blame Pedro too much, here, because you know, we hate the Yankees." I actually turned the tape off and refuse to watch the rest of what I missed. Because Fox? You totally suck.

And in all of this, Tonya has a birthday today. I can't go out to celebrate tonight because it hurts to even lift my arms and my knees are bruised like I've never seen them before, but I wish her a great time. She said it's made even sweeter by the fact the Yanks won, so there you go.

In closing, all I have to say is, never underestimate the power of your friends, teammates and green almond M&Ms.

Friday, October 10, 2003

I've finally figured out why I get so pissed when everyone makes the Yankees out to sound evil (or likens them to the 1980 Russian ice hockey team, as The Sports Guy does on today's, which, by the way, has three pro-Red Sox columns today), spend too much money, etc. -- it's like they're saying we Yankee fans aren't entitled to feel happy if the Yankees win. That you're allowed to enjoy a team's success only if they're a scrappy, pulls-itself-up-by-the-bootstraps, poor organization. What most of these people don't realize is that most Yankee fans were raised Yankee fans, and I'm sure as hell not going to apologize for it. I fully intend to enjoy every game the Yanks are in, as I do every season. I may have seen my fair share of winning in recent years, but I still have every right to wish my team well and live and die with them all season long. So to quote an old song, No, they can't take that away from me.
Things I hate today: Mass transit. Middle-aged, disgusting, sexual-harasser married guys from the suburbs. Sasquatches whose constant pacing is now causing me major sleep sleep depravation.

Things I love today: THE YANKEES!

Oh, what a night. I don't think I've ever been to a more exciting game and it actually got busted open at the end there. The crowd was nuts. We had Red Sox people in our section, who didn't bother us and we left them alone. But other Red Sox fans weren't so lucky. Some encouraged the jeering though, and it makes you realize that this rivalry can actually be fun sometimes. Like when the Yankees win.

And fun was in abundance last night. There was a life-size cutout of the Babe in the Bleachers, which cracked me up. The ALCS scorecard/program provided photos of Fox Annoyance Trinity, which I had fun doodling over during the tense early moments of the game. It was very stress relieving to darken a few of Steve Lyons' teeth, give Joe Buck horns and draw an arrow through Tim McCarver's head. We toasted with green almond M&Ms, and The Chicken's picture did all it was supposed to. Subway provided us with 1918 signs, which        raised over her head a few times, a la Norma Rae. The guys sitting behind us, in a very Beavis and Butthead moment were like "Yeah, we like Subway," and        was like "I'm sure you do!" I actually had to defend a Mike Mussina comment to them earlier in the game, or else they were practically ready to go find our pitcher and run him out of town. And we all sang "New York, New York" at the end because         friend        (who came in        's place) is moving back to the Midwest and it was probably her final trip to Yankee Stadium. All in all a great, great time.

Oh, but then there was the small matter of getting home. Now, this is usually a 45-minute trip. It took 2 1/2 hours last night, all because of Trains That Refused To Move. We get to the D and it leaves almost right away. But for some reason, this D train is making all local stops, which we don't figure out till we're at like 110th st. Anyway, the first car we get in is super hot, so we make the decision to run for the next car at the next stop. We get to the doors and these three middle-aged, total suburban SUV-driving, mistress-having men are standing there laughing about something. The one guy tells us that we may not want to hear what they have to say or something like that, but I just give them a big "The Yankees Just Won, Asshole, Nothing You Can Say WIll Get Me Down" grin. They start saying something about how "your Yankees won" which leads me to believe they were fans of neither team (they were too happy for Red Sox fans) and thus Corporate Seat Jackasses. Then the one guy says something about        's leg being "thick". Now, for those of you who have never seen , she is far from thick. She's actually of average height and average weight, blonde and pretty, so I think these guys thought this would get her to pay attention to them, in some sick way. So        goes "Did you just say I was fat?" And one of the guy's like "No, guys like thick thighs" or something like that, and         is still ready to rumble. Then the thick liker puts his hand around        's leg, like he's measuring it and says "That's a thick thigh" he then does the same to me and says "She has a skinny thigh." I don't know what held me back from bludgeoning this guy with my program/score card, but I instead spit out disgustedly "You have a real way with women, you know that?"         is growling something at them,         looks horrified, and the guys are laughing and the guy standing next to me says to the Thigh Master that he's "Such a womanizer," Iike this is a major accomplishment worthy of praise. So I hotly inform him "Uh, no, a womanizer actually GETS women," to which they had no response. The train mercifully pulls to a stop for us to change cars, and as we're bolting off,         tells these dickheads that she is completely out of their league, and one has the nerve to call her "Fatty", which is just at total mind-fuck because         is NOT FAT. What scares me most is that these men were all sporting wedding rings, which means they probably have three clueless wives sitting at home minding the children, waiting for the skeezoid husbands to get home from their night out with the boys. I really wanted to go back in that car and take care of unfinished business, but I was too tired and in a good mood because of the win. But you can bet if the Yanks lost, there would've been bloodshed.

ANYWAY -- so the train's going local and we realize we're going to miss the 12:12 PATH train back to NJ and we're settling for the 12:42. Except, just like last week, we sit at 59th St. for 20 minutes. They finally tell us there is a back up of trains to 34th St., so we go running around the station looking for alternate ways to the PATH Station, and finally settle on the A train. And we then write off the 12:42 train because we're so going to miss it. When we do get to the station, it's crowded, and who do we run into but Dexter and Vicki, who are on their way back from the Radiohead show. They inform us they were waiting for the 12:42, but it was actually too crowded to get on, so now, like us, they're waiting for the 1:12 (and I see hours of much-needed sleep slipping away). The train pulls in at 1:19 (UGH!), is crowded, and I'm so burnt-out, I don't follow         to hold onto the straps, or Dexter and Vicki who are at the other end of the train because I just want to hold onto the pole, no strap-hanging involved for my tired arms. I miss all the action, though, as a woman on Dexter and Vicki's end pukes all over the place -- they were spared however.

I got in around a quarter of 2, as does Sasquatch. I figure he's headed for bed, but oh, maybe not. He's stomping around till 4 a.m. and I feel the urge to break into his apartment and lay super-thick carpeting down. There's a rumor he and his roommates may be moving out. I know my faithful readers would miss Sasquatch stories if that were the case, but I gotta tell you, I'm beginning to forget what a good-night's sleep looks like. I'd be happy to see him go, in exchange for someone with smaller feet.

But the Yanks won and the game was way excellent, so everything else is minor in comparison.