Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Kids Stuff? What if I Like It?

Can I just profess my love for the YES show Kids on Deck? So freaking adorable. I mean, you haven't lived until you've seen Mattingly, Girardi and Pavano wander the zoo feeding the giraffes, admiring the "mitts" on orangutans, riding camels and hanging out with Cyrus the bald eagle.

What does one have to do to work for that show?

Yeah. I Know.

Me: Chicken, I just wanted to tell you I was going to Boston Saturday, so if you could water my herbs..
Chicken: GASP! You're going WHERE?!
Me: I know, I'm trying not to think about it too much.
Chicken: But WHY?
Me: Because Liana and Eric were nice enough to invite me. Now brace yourself. I've got some even more startling news.
Me: Fenway. Yeah, I am. Sigh.
Chicken: But you might not come out alive!
Me: I will, Chicken, I promise will. Liana and Eric have been nice enough to come into their enemy territory at Yankee Stadium for me, so I will venture to that god awful place for them. I will probably want to hang myself by the third inning, but that is the chance I take for my friends. Plus, I've only ever seen four ballparks, and one of them was blown up. I think I should start seeing more, and I'm getting the most dreaded one out of the way first.
Chicken: (Crying) They're going to KILL YOU!
Me: Don't worry, I'm not wearing my Yankee gear. 1) I want my friends to be able to enjoy the game without having to bail me out of prison and 2) I'm not a hypocrite. I don't approve of Sux fans wearing all their stuff at the Stadium when they come to a non-Yanks/Sux game, so I will not do that in their house. No matter how much I'll be grinding my teeth when the Yankees Suck chants inevitably start.
Chicken: (Wiping his eyes.) OK. But you have to promise me you'll carry around a crucifix, a wooden stake and a gun with silver bullets.
Me: Ummm...
Chicken: And don't make eye contact! They might try to suck your will to live!
Me: I think the city might do that on it's own. Tonya and Steph have both gone in the past six months and couldn't wait to get out. I'm only going for a day, and my friends will distract me I hope.
Chicken: And I don't care how cute the guy is, DO NOT accept drinks from strangers.
Me: I don't do that now, Chicken, why would I do that in a city full of my enemies? Give me some credit here.
Chicken: You'll be rooting for the opposing team, I hope.
Me: "Rooting" might not be the best term. It's the Blue Jays and they're too close to the Yanks to blatantly cheer them on. But let's just say I'll hope they, uh, do their best.
Chicken: (Sighs) Well, I'm packing some weapons for you just in case you need to protect yourself.
Me: That's very thoughtful of you. Just don't go sneaking youself in the bag as well. I can just imagine you attacking a group of unsuspecting fans with your feathers, and then taking on David Oritz and Manny.
Chicken: (Hides his suitcase) Whatever gave you that idea?

You don't mess with a Chicken with a Crazy Look in his eye....

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

A Question I've Wanted to Ask For a Long Time

What in the name of god's green earth does Bonus Cantos mean? I mean, this is a Michael Kayism that he trots out whenever extra innings happen upon us. I just checked a Spanish dictionary and the term for inning is Turno, with Canto meaning "chant." So I don't know what the hell he's trying to tell us. As I told Tonya and Steph, it sounds kind of perverted, like a euphemism for boobs or something. And that's just creeeeepy coming from Michael Kay.

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

So, I gave two weeks notice to my job today, and while I had a feeling of "Ha on you!" when giving notice to my last job, this one is extremely bittersweet. I've been here almost five years, people. I'm leaving some really awesome people behind, though I'm happy because the new job is literally right around the block from this one, so I know I'll still see everyone. But iIt's absolutely KILLING me to leave Tonya and Steph. Like, who the hell is going to talk Yankees with me now? What will my new co-workers think of my Yankee statuettes and flags and other assorted evidence of my fandom? As I told Steph, I am feeling all "Sad-Clown Robinson Cano" over this (if you've seen his photo on the scoreboard at Yankee Stadium, you will know what I'm talking about), especially since I'm not sure how the deadlines at the new place will effect my game viewing with them. Tonya was so sad (because she's losing Ken as well) that she had three cookies and chips for dinner last night. *sniff* And leaving Erica and Dorothy, my two pop-culture/book exchange friends! *sobs* Who will indulge me in my A-Fed talk now?

The plus side is that Ken and Rana will also be at the new place (it's a new magazine), as will Carolyn V. who gave me the A-Fed autograph. So it's not like I'm starting somewhere completely anew -- there will be some comforting faces to greet me every day.

This decision was a big one, and a change had to be made, so I know I did the right thing. But I wish to god there was some way to be able to take all the people with you and keep them in your cubicle or something.

Ah, well. I guess this is why man created the e-mail....

Monday, June 27, 2005

Because I Remember This Stuff

Hey, Jesse! Where's your blog?

Heh heh.

We Get It, Columnists

Now, I didn't watch last night's game, but browsing the papers this morning, I did notice that every columnist can't wait to piss on the win. Just reading the headlines on Lupicass' and Joel Sherman's pieces, you can tell they seem to think that they're the only ones who know you can't get excited over one win. No shit, Sherlocks.

A 9th-inning come-from-behind win is exciting, no matter who you're playing or your standing in the division. Can't you let people enjoy it for what it is rather than be the "bearer of bad tidings," because you think yourself a realist while the rest of us are not or somthing? Did we just not see this team rattle off two impressive win streaks followed by uninspired crapiness? WE KNOW, Lupicass and Company, that this is not even a blip on the season's radar. We are not the dumb sheep you take us for. And neither is this team, who probably looked very pleased with themselves afterward, and probably would be the first to tell you it's just a small step.

But apparently, if you have a column in a New York paper, you are all knowing and smarter than the rest of us, so maybe I shouldn't even bother to argue this point...

And thank the friggin' lord that Interleague Play is over. Now they can actually, like, you know, play teams in their division and have the games almost be do-or-die when it comes to affecting the standings. Which to me is way more exciting than the Mets and Cubs put together, but I know I'm probably alone in that.

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Throwing My Hands Up In Disgust

Yeah, so I should never listen to sports talk radio. It might be more aggravating than Jim Caple and Lupicass put together. Today, my dad and I listened as he drove me back to Hoboken, and I think I almost kicked a hole through the floor a number of times. Today’s discussion? Who should the Yankees get rid of so they can start afresh with a bunch of prospects. I kid you not. People were actually calling for the trades of Matsui, Sheffield and Posada. Yeah, the three guys who are actually PRODUCING for this team. One guy wanted to trade Hideki to the Cubs for Kerry Wood. Yeah, just what we need, another NL wunderkind stinking it up in the Bronx. No thanks, especially at that price. This other guy was like “I want to see the Yankees sign Ken Griffey Jr. because I pay 60 dollars a seat and that’s who I’d pay to see.” First off, why are you paying 60 bucks a seat, dude? Secondly, you’d be paying to see Ken Griffey Jr. of 11 years ago, not the current edition – who I want no where near pinstripes. What the fuck, people? Or as Steph put it, “The natives are getting restless – and stupid.”

I mean, you should’ve heard some of the suggestions! And on top of it, people are doing it in the whiniest voices possible, the sense of entitlement for Championships oozing from said whineyness, as they blame lack of chemistry, Mel (might be the only thing I agree with) Joe Torre, the moon, the stars and George for everything. Well, I gotta tell you, for people who complain so much about how Steinbrenner does things, they certainly have Steinbrennerian way of thinking. Panic does not breed the best thinking, if I’m not mistaken.

I’ll give you a few reasons why the Yanks are losing, and none of them have to do with three guys hitting .299, .309 and .277 respectively…

-- Tony Womack sucks, though I’m not sure what this organization expected when they took the dude they signed as a second baseman…and then Knoblauch’d him to left field. But he does make for a big hole in the lineup. You can’t tell me there aren’t any better outfielders out there, and I wish to hell they’d give Bubba Crosby a consistent starting chance. Or somebody.

--Bernie’s getting old. But remember, he’s not supposed to be the starting centerfielder anymore. Our current one is nursing a sore foot, and doing just fine hitting wise right now. He’ll be back out there before we know it, and though he might not have the best arm, I still say he’s one of the most defensively solid people out there. So all these people getting all red in the face and angry saying Bernie should hang it up, keep in mind he basically already has, but circumstances put him back out there. It’s not permanent. And I'll remind you, in the "Dynasty" years, the only outfielder with a cannon for an arm was Paul O'Neill. That's right, Bernie and the leftfielder du jour were never known for their guns. So I don't know why we all of a sudden get all bent out of shape that all three of our outfielders can't throw out a runner at the plater. You can win without that. And if this is still about the Beltran thing, get over it. He's with the Mets now and that's that.

--Impatience. How many guys are hacking away up there at the first pitch in big situations? I don’t know if it’s Mattingly or someone else, but somebody’s got to put the fear of god into them to lay off everything that comes their way. They do this more when they’re pressing – if you noticed, they score 20 runs the other night. They were being blown out and there was no pressure on them, therefore, they were patient as all get out. That’s my theory anyway. If they could just apply this to 2-1 ballgames, we might see a better result.

--The pitching will be lights out, then suck ass. I’m not sure what can be done about it, but I’m reaaaaaaaally wondering how much Mel has to do with it. Yeah, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks (as people are saying about Johnson), but my feeling is that the right guy can see what he’s doing wrong and at least offer a possible solution – and the pitcher will trust him enough to at least take it into consideration, no matter how big the contract. No guy wants to go out there and suck, you know.

--The lack of hitting with runners in scoring position: See Impatience.

--The lack of a consistent hitting first baseman isn’t helping matters either, as it makes another hole in the lineup. I guess it all depends on how long Tino has to favor the foot, but then when did a platoon situation ever turn into an offensive boon for the Yanks (see their left field scenarios of the past)? I would think guys produce better the more chances they get to be out there. But that’s the Giambi albatross they have to bear, and I guess.

All of the above things are completely fixable, and there’s no need to get all crazy armchair general manager on this team right now because, oh my gosh, the Yankees are losing. These supposed fans who want to throw out the baby with the bath water had really ought to take the biggest chill pill possible and stop behaving like the man they supposedly hate, because they're just going to put themselves in an early grave getting all apoplectic and shit. Yeah, the losses have been frustrating. But you don’t kick to the curb the guys who are actually giving you hope in some otherwise hopeless situations just because you’re a winning addict who can’t see the forest for the trees.


In Which Tonya Is My Idol

So, last night, after celebrating fellow Yankee fan Jennie's b-day in the Meat-Packing District, Tonya and Julianna were searching for a cab. As they were walking, they heard someone say "Jeter!" and as if in slow-motion, they both turned around in time to see El Capitan himself coming out of a bar, with a security guard. Rather than freak out completely, Tonya called out a "Happy birthday!" to him, and he actually called back "Thanks!" before getting into a cab. Eeeeeeeeeeee!!!!! I told her it was awesome that she had the presence of mind to remember it was his b-day (only two hours into it, no less), because everyone else probably calls out "Hey Jeter! You're awesome!" or "Hey Jeter! You suck!" I'm still waiting for the day I run into him and am all "Hey Jeter! I love you, man! And stop swinging at the first pitch, damn it!" Because that's probably all that would pop into my head.

Tonya said both she and Julianna were so geeked out over the moment, that it didn't even occur to them to see if any other Yankees came out. But then Tonya admitted that she'd probably faint if Tino had come out of the bar, so I guess you have to take these things one Yankee at a time.



Yeah, so, tonight was my 10-year high school reunion. I have no idea where all that time went, but there you go. I think about a quarter of my graduating class showed up, most of whom were friends I hadn't seen since the day I got my diploma. I can honestly say no one changed for the worse. In fact, as we were sitting at our fancy-shmancy country club table, I told Laura that it was like being in a sophisticated version of our old cafeteria. Because people didn't really age as much as they gained an adult-like and confident presence, if that makes sense.

Also, apparently my job is cool. I can't tell you how many people were like "That's AWESOME!" when I responded to the "what are you doing now?" question. Though I think my friend Dave may have trumped all of us by getting to say he works for the FBI. I mean, I'm not sure there's much cooler than that.

And the universal symbol for single is to hold up your left hand to show no ring on the finger. Seriously, I can't tell you how many conversations I had where my hand just flung up there to the "Are you married?" question, and whenever I saw other people waving their left hand around, I knew that they were communicating that they were single as well.

Laura gets quote of the night honors, when she was lamenting the fact that the well-endowed seemed to get more well-endowed and she sighed "Some girls grow all the boobs." Ah, but at the 50 year reunion, that actually might be more of a problem than a blessing...

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Wishing The Wave Would Crash for Good.

I hate The Wave.

It's about time I did a post on this, and while watching the Yankee game just now, it sounded as though it was making its way through the Stadium, and I hope I'm wrong. I'm sorry, is the 6-4 score boring you? And is it more important to you to create a human wave around the ballpark than it is to focus on what is going on in front of you? How bored do you have to be to try and start this thing? And why did you bother coming to a baseball game if slowness ain't your thang?

What gets me are the people who get all pissed off if you don't join in, and god forbid, kill The Wave in its tracks. Hey, drunken asshole, I paid to watch the game, not something that should've gone out style with mullets and jams. This is why I adore the Bleacher Creatures like I do. All the games I've been at, they refuse to partake in it, and you hear the whole Stadium groan that they had to go and kill everyone's fun. Awww.

I've actually given The Wave the finger as it has passed me, as to me it represents the worst in sports fans with no attention span. These are the people for whom they invented half those bells and whistles you see during a Fox game -- the people who can't sit still long enough to take in an entire baseball game.

And that, to me, is just sad.

Good Stuff off UPN? Whoda Thunk It?

So I've been trying to catch up on Veronica Mars, though stupid UPN isn't playing along, as they're only showing sporadic episodes from last season. But I do like it. In fact, one of the pieces of dialogue last night won me over a whole lot. It was the Christmas episode, and Veronica and her dad are decorating their tree. Apparently, there are lots of Padres (they live in SoCal) ornaments on the tree, and the dad is very specific about spreading them out properly. It went something like this:

Veronica: You know, some people think Christmas is about the birth of Christ, not baseball.

Dad: We all have our own religions, Veronica.

Talk about a show after my own heart...

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Who Art Thou?

Guys, the anonymous comments are starting to irritate me. Not the comments themselves, but the fact that I have no idea who I am addressing (unless it's Rick, who I can tell from the smart-assness of his comments) is frustrating. Blogger now allows you to leave your name when you sign these things, even if you don't have a blog. I suggest you use it, because Anonymousness may give you no responsibility for your thoughts, but it's also a tad creepy in a way.

Just a thought.

Lines We Love?

So AFI named their top 100 movie lines last night, and, yeah, I called the winner 7 months ago. Overall, I think it was a solid list. But it does beg the question...

Where the hell was "Hello, My Name is Inigo Montoya, You Killed My Father, Prepare to Die"?!?

Or "Over? Was it Over When the Germans Bombed Pearl Harbor?" (I actually like this better than the "Toga" line that actually made the cut.)

I know, there were only 100 spots, but some choices I was kind of "eh" on. For example, I would've taken out anything that wasn't script-written from a biopic, meaning the "lines" from The Pride of the Yankees, Apollo 13 and Knute Rockne All-American. I get the feeling their respective "lines" would still be big in popular culture without the movies. So that frees up a few spots right there.

Wonder what their next list will be? Every time I think they've run out of topics, they come up with another...

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

I Do Not Believe What I Just Saw




How's THAT for lazy?!

When a game makes you laugh so hard, you start crying, you know it's a crazy night.

God, I do love this team.

That Time Machine Would Come in Really Handy Right Now


W: 3 L: 2 ERA: 0.98

Now, I don't want to jinx him, and I know many people feel like he needs to "re-prove" himself in front of the Sux, but take a look at that ERA. Ahem, boo-birds of April.

Suck it up, non-believers.

Say What?

Shut up, NY Post:


I didn't read their article, but I did read this in the Times:

"We've got to come out and play with our hair on fire, and I don't think we did that today," said Alex Rodriguez, who popped out in the Yankees' four-run eighth. "Today we were a little lazy."

Um, this truthful comment is reason for a hatred-inducing back page? This is "ripping" the team? When Tino and Jorge were getting pissy about the team's attitude two weeks ago and only getting little mentions in stories? I guess you could take from it that this is as the Post saying A-Rod's taking a leadership role by getting pissed, but that doesn't seem to be the case to me -- it seems more inflammatory than anything. Not like I've been reading the Post's online issue in recent weeks anyway -- I refuse to give their asses my salary range in the little "sign up" area (along with my name and e-mail address), as it's none of their damn business.

Whatever. I guess it's a good thing I learned the difference between straight-forward reporting and sensationalism a long time ago...

And yeah, even the Devil Rays are capable of beating a flat-out bad Triple A pitcher like Henn, so I don't get what the shock is here. I pretty much wrote off last night's game when I saw the pitching matchup, forget about what the lineup did or didn't do.

Monday, June 20, 2005

I Love Me a Good Read

I know I'm a little slow on the Sports Illustrated uptake since I don't subscribe, but Steph just gave me an awesome article on A-Rod fitting in in NY by Tom Verducci. If I could find a link, I'd put it here, but alas, no luck thus far. It's the June 6th issue for inquiring minds.

Some highlights?

-- A-Rod sings in his car. How fucking awesome is that? And he thinks that driving himself to games and being able to do stuff like sing has helped him. Oh, yeah, his invitation to Hoboken Idol 2006 is already in the mail...

--He calls Tino "The Bridge" because Tino is his link to the "made" Yankees, i.e., the ones with Rings. TIno also has a fabulous quote: "[The fans and the media] almost want to see you fail at first, to test you. But once you win them over, they will carry you along with their support. Then it's like you're riding a wave. I'm telling you, they carry you." *sobs from happiness that he's back with us*.

--About a dozen players get together for dinner after games, A-Rod among them. So you tell me if this team doesn't have chemistry? You mean a bunch of guys who hate each other would voluntarily sit down for a meal together? And the bigger question remains -- where is this restaurant, and how do Tonya, Steph and I get a reservation there after a season ticket Friday?

--Posada on the whole "no Yankee defended A-Rod" after the Sux's bashing of him: "The reason we didn't say much was because we wanted it to go away. If we answer them, then they answer us, and it keeps going on and on. It wasn't because we're not behind him. It wasn't because we don't love him. And we told Alex that." Hear that, haters? Posada used the L word -- I don't care how much a phony you are to the press, you don't drop a term like that on someone you hate.

I love reading Verducci's stuff, and this was a nice, solid piece. Give it a read yourself, if possible.

Dance(off) Fever

It was a busy weekend in the Yankee Clubhouse, judging by the stacks of diaries that were left on my doorstep today. Turns out yesterday was not only Father's Day, but the day of the big Clubhouse Dance-off. Oh, the drama. Here are some of the better entries I encountered...

Translated from Japanese:

Dear Diary,

Man, they really know how to have fun in the American League! Derek and Alex scheduled a Clubhouse Dance-off today, and what a great time we all had! Well, at least I think it was a great time. Derek stormed off at one point and Alex looked like his feelings were hurt by something, but I never knew the rest of the guys were such good dancers! I didn't know I was such a good dancer! Derek, being the Captain, picked a song for me -- Finally, by a woman named CeCe Peniston. Derek said it was because I was "finally" hitting well again. Anyway, I just felt the rhythm and went with it, sliding on my knees across the "dancefloor" (that looked very much like Kevin Brown's missing ping-pong table, but painted over) and doing leg kicks and stuff like that. Tino actually called me "a real Tony Manero," whatever that means, but it came from Tino and whatever he says and does is gold, so it must be good.

As much fun as I had, I still didn't win. Oh no, that went to Jason, who I'm glad got to win something that they can't accuse of being steroid related. Nevermind that half his routine involved pulling the stripper pole out of the ground and swinging it around like a giant club. It was awe-inspiring, even though I think that's kind of what made Derek run off.

I really hope we have another Clubhouse Dance-off, Diary. I've already picked out a song -- that infectious "Man, I Feel Like a Woman"! That will have to win for sure!

Thank You, and Enjoy the Game,

Dear Diary,

What the fuck?!? Derek was totally supposed to do the Don't Leave Me This Way routine with me during the Dance-off today, but instead he's all "Sorry, Alex, I really wanted to try something solo and people will expect it from me since I'm the Captain and all" and busts out with The Hustle. Man, that grand slam REALLY went to his head.

But he got it stuck to him when the guys 1) named Jason Giambi the winner (I know, right? But he really did have a killer performance) and 2) voted my discotastic solo self better than Derek for a second place finish. In fact, he finished in FIFTH.You should've seen him get all huffy and storm off, ripping Joe Torre's prized disco medallion from 1977 from his neck and chucking it in the whirlpool.

And then all the guys looked to ME for what they were supposed to do next. It was awesome! And those asshole Red Sox thought I'd never be a true Yankee...ha! Tell them I beat out Captain Courageous at something because my teammates (who are supposed to hate me) said so!!

What a great day!

Dear Diary,

Well, this is turning out to be a good week. Not only did I win a game with a home run and actually get some hits against the famous Giambi shift that teams are employing, but I WON THE CLUBHOUSE DANCE-OFF!!! Seriously!!! I actually beat out Derek and Alex's way-too choreographed disco routines and Hideki throwing himself around and Mike Mussina doing The Robot...what a feeling!

I guess the fact that I had some kick-ass props helped, but I'd like to think that it was the all out effort and feeling I put into my performance that got the vote. I really felt the music, Diary. One minute, I was doing my stripper walk (but in my boxers and T-shirt -- I didn't want the guys to think I was weird or something by getting naked and stuff) and the next, the chorus to Here I Go Again just touched me deep inside, and I yanked that pole out of the floor and tried to twirl it like a baton. The guys were ducking out of the way like I might kill them, but that wasn't my intent.I almost took off Sheff's head while swinging it, but he was cool and told me that the performance was so good that it didn't matter if he almost lost his life because of it. THAT'S a good teammate. Derek ran off after it was announced I won, and I feel really bad in a way. He totally wanted to win this thing. But I know he wouldn't begrudge me because he's the Captain and he always does the right thing.

I'm going to go admire my trophy now. It's gold and shiny and all mine!


Dear Diary,

Sniffle. Oh, my life is over. There IS something I can't do! I can't win a dance-off against my own teammates, teammates over whom I am CAPTAIN. Am I really that uninspiring on the dancefloor? Do my intangibles not translate well into disco? I don't get it. Jason totally came out of nowhere, but what makes him so special? I mean, just because he secretly watched that Oprah episode about getting in touch with your inner stripper, and then brought in his own stripper's pole and actually had a wind machine/dry ice effect going on by using our dugout fan/mister thing that we use to keep cool...what's so great about that? And how was I supposed to know that Whitesnake trumps The Hustle among my teammates? Do they have no taste?

I'm wiping my tears in defiance now. I am totally going to win the next Clubhouse Dance-off. I'll find the best hairband song out there and I will make it my own. Maybe I can actually get Guns N Roses or Poison to come perform live for mine...that beats out Jason's little tapedeck anyday. But no matter who performs, I will win that trophy away from Jason. I will be the Clubhouse Dance King, and I will make all my teammates inspired again. Because I am the Captain, and that's the way it is.

Oh, yeah, and I hit my first grand slam this weekend. I can guarantee you it won't take me 10 seasons to win my first Clubhouse Dance-off, that's for sure.

Ciao, man,
The Cap'n

Saturday, June 18, 2005


Yeah, so I'm out shopping with my mom when I get the following text from Tonya: "Jeter's First Grand Slam!!" If it's possible, my heart both soared and sank at that moment. Soared because, thank god, now they won't have to put that stupid "so-and-so many at bats without a grand slam" stat whenever he comes up with the bases loaded, and just because you always love it when Jeets does something like this (though I seriously thought he was going to lose his grand slam virginity in a big, big playoff Jeteresque moment. Oh well.). My heart sank because, of course, I wasn't watching it live thanks to my Interleague Bias. I guess I should just be happy it didn't happen last night, when I gave my tickets to Tonya's friends. Sigh. Thankfully, my dad had the presence of mind to start taping once Jeter came to bat when the bases were loaded, so I got to see it as it was called on Fux. No Yankee Post Game tonight on YES, which sucks too -- this is a moment you want talked about for a little bit.
Enjoy it for the last time. Savor its special flavor and lock it away in your memory.

Also making me want to kick myself is the fact that I could've met A-Fed last weekend. Seriously. Last night we were out celebrating Rick and Scott's b-day, and their friend Boardman, who works for the NBA and does some WNBA as well, told me had he known I was at last week's game, he would've had me come down to meet A-Fed. Since I found out about the appearance so late, it didn't even occur to me to ask around about this sort of thing. Big sigh. Though when I told my parents about the missed opportunity, my dad was all "Well, your blog would've suffered" because every day I'd be like "Remember that time I met A-Fed? Two days ago? That was the best." And it's so true.

But from now on, I'm not missing any opportunities for coolness, so there.

Friday, June 17, 2005

Oh Say Can You Hear

For those needing an Idol fix, may I suggest checking out the recent string of national anthem runs they've been doing. It's one of those songs people can really mess up, but so far, so good from this year's crop of finalists. Carrie sang it before the Pistons/Spurs game last night and was pretty good. Kelly sang it a few nights ago and though I have yet to hear it myself, heard it wasn't as good as she can be because she's sick. Actually, people who aren't even A-Fed fans are saying his version from the Phillies game kicked both their asses, but I'm biased, so we won't go there. Plus, I thought he sounded tremendous at MSG because the acousitcs made it that much more powerful, but there is no audio of that. Sigh.

It should also be noted, that the Top 10 (minus Carrie and Bo) sang it together at the Coca Cola 600 a few weeks ago, and while I cringed at the notion of them all trying to harmonize (since they pretty much bit when they had to during the season) they were pretty damn solid. It's rumored Anwar, the music teacher, arranged it and that he directed them, and if that's the case, I'm seriously impressed.

Check out Carrie's and the Top 10's performances here, under Post Idol Appearances.There's a truncated version of A-Fed's, but I'd suggest going to his site and checking out the full (and better quality) version there. Click on the photo thingy, load it up and you can fast forward to the 1:15 mark for the singing.

See, even when the show's over, it's not over.

If Only Cosmo Made A Quiz For Your "Yankee" Type...

How long do you have to you sit hearing a person sniffle before you're allowed to explode and be all "Blow your goddamn nose already!!!!"


Last night I met up with fellow Yankee afficionado Jill, who has no interleague bias. Since I only see her sparingly, I sucked it up and offered to go to a sports bar with her since she wanted to see the game. Lucky for me we converesed a lot, so I didn't have to actually see much of the game. But there was one instance where Jeter got called out on strikes, and he clearly didn't look happy about it. The camera then shows him in the dugout a few minutes later making the awesomest face ever -- it was like he was a bitchy 13-year-old girl, mocking the umpire and going "You're out, nyyyahhh" or something to that effect. It was utterly hilarious and charming all at the same time, which I don't think many people can pull off when they're pissed.

Jill then asked who on the Yanks I'd consider my "type." It's weird, I barely thought about it before I heard myself saying "Moose." Because clearly my subconcious has thought about this, or just being exposed to them for so long, you start to categorize them in that way and not realize it. Fear not, Shannon, I'm not hot for your dude (and even if I was, he's all yours!) but I guess if there's a guy type I go for, it's usually a guy of Mooseian qualities -- cute and juuuuust a tad dorky. Jeter and A-Rod are too Metro for my tastes; Giambi too bad-boy-with-a-heart-of-gold; Tino is just too Tino -- I love him in that Bernie Williams "Awww" sort of way; Pavano too...well, I haven't figured him out yet. Moose is pretty much clueless or could care less about how he dresses off the field (which is how I like my men -- I don't want a fashion plate), snarky in just the right way and very appealing facially (I've always been a "face" kinda girl. Butts and pecs aren't my No.1 priority). Jill was just kinda like "Really?" I guess Moose is a boring pick for a "type" but then I'm a boring type of girl, and I'm OK with that.

A dude in a suit or a dude with a book? Well, I know which way I'm going (though DJ does look hawt, I'll give you that.)

Thursday, June 16, 2005

Are You Kidding Me?

I shouldn't be surprised as this is Page 2, and partly of Jim Caple's doing, but the new Sportoon on what the Stadium would've looked like had Giuliani's plans gone through? Tasteless. It seems fine and all in good fun until we get to the part about "The WTC Memorial Twin Luxury Towers."

I know it's been almost four years, but I'm sorry, there are some things you just don't joke about, and that is one of them.

A House is Not a Home

What makes me cringe the most about all the New Stadium talk, you ask? Three little words: "The Ballpark Experience." Yeah, it makes me shudder and grind my teeth all at once. Because correct me if I'm wrong, you go to a game to experience...the game. Or at least I do. I don't need food options galore, padded seats, a place to hang out outside the stadium, a "retro feel". I'm there to see the Yanks with my friends, plain and simple. Maybe visit Monument Park every now and then. That's about it. Maybe this is why I'm so content with the current Stadium, as it meets my needs exactly, and gives me a feeling of connection to the past that I'm not sure a new stadium will give, no matter how much they try to recreate it.

I haven't been to any new parks recently, so maybe I can't judge fairly. I'll be honest, though. I really liked Camden Yards, but it felt so...Soccer Mom. Meaning, you load up the mini van, take your family to the game, you walk aroud "experiencing" everything and then you take your seats in the 3rd inning and leave in the 7th. I'm not saying this is why Orioles fans go to the game, because the actual Orioles fans are there to watch it. It's the people you bring in who aren't really baseball fans in general that need this stuff to draw them out, and I hate that the new places cater to them, the ones who aren't spending more money on season ticket plans and post-season packages. The casual fan is gold apparently, no matter how many diehard fans feel that the current stadium is just fine as is and have a pretty ginormous attachment to it. But I know it's probably my generation that's making stadiums, excuse me, ballparks, be built with all these bells and whistles because god forbid we don't have every whim catered to, we like might not show up or something.

If we were to take a poll in Yankee Stadium in the 1930s, and then after the re-furbishing in the late 70s, and told those fans what we'd have at new stadiums, I think some would be like "sounds interesting" and the rest would be like "what kind of pussies are you?" Especially when you hear about places literally having air-conditioned seats in their corporate seating. Why the fuck go out to a game that's outside if not to experience the elements? Domes I get. Airconditioning while you're sitting outside? Not so much. But this is apparently what "fans" want, along with food from all over the globe, and games inside the Stadium and whatever else the ADD in all of us needs so we don't, god forbid, get bored with the game itself.

The only thing I think I actually look forward to at the new Stadium is the wider concourses for leaving the game, as that's my least favorite part of the current Stadium. But then again, am I even going to be able to get a ticket when the time comes? Yeah, I'm not boycotting the new Stadium or anything and I'll actually go since I really have no choice as to where the Yanks call home. But then I'd go to the deepest bowels of hell to see them play, so that ain't saying much.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

In Which I Make a Sad Face for the Next Four Years

So my mom just called to see if I was "bummed out" about the New Yankee Stadium. When I told her I indeed was, she, who has only been to Yankee Stadium once, mind you, began ranting about how "stupid" the idea was. "What about the ghosts?" she wanted to know. "That's where all the greats played." She then added with a big sigh: "They're always fucking around with history."

Yeah, I think that about sums it up.

Blog Responsibly...or Anonymously

Dudes, if you're dumb enough to blast your job on a blog, where the entire free world can see the rant and your name, you deserve to be fired. Just like if you make fun of your friends on it, they have every right to hate you and drop you from their circle. Freedom of speech isn't being "stifled" here, it's just common sense. You can still blog that you hate your job, but just don't expect your company to like you and pat you on the back for it. Sheesh.

Welcome, Whitey

Props to Erica for attending last night's Yankee game and snagging me the Whitey Ford statuette. Tonya and I have been collecting all the statuettes from The Monument Park series, but yesterday posed a problem for me being that it was Interleague.So Erica went with Tonya instead and she had a good time, and I'm glad, since it was so blisteringly uncomfortable last night. But at least it didn't rain! And the Yanks actually won!


Whitey's joining my little Yankee army on my desk. That's Babe Ruth with the flower on the left, because the bat he was supposed to come with was mysteriously absent from the packaging. So I had to give him something to hold onto, and since there's nothing to protest right now, he just gets to look pretty.

And I'm trying not to think about the new Stadium unveiling today. It breaks my heart just to type it.

Because I Know You're All Just Dying To Know...

Mayor McCheese will continue his reign in Hoboken. Which means I'll have at least a few years of peace at the bus stop before the next campaign begins. His people were literally meeting people AT the bus stop after work yesterday to remind people to vote. And The Challenger had people at the Port Authority reminding people to vote before they even got on the NEW YORK CITY. As if harrassment weren't enough in one city, they had to go global. But it's over now, unless Hoboken has something up its sleeve that I don't know about (and with the corrupt political history of the city, I wouldn't put anything past them), and life can be peaceful again.

Now I can go about my business and not get accosted by politicians. And a few less trees will be executed for the propoganda stuffing my mailbox. And my phone won't ring at 8 a.m. on a Saturday for the sole purpose of annoying me.

What a relief.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Does You Have to Sing Like That?

So the Backstreet Boys were on The View this morning performing their new song, Incomplete. Now, I actually like this song and they harmonized very nicely on it. But, my god, the way they sing "I'm awake" sets my teeth on edge. It's "I'm aweeeeeeek" if you're Nick Carter and Company, and it has to come out of your nose and not your mouth, apparently, because it's nasal as all hell. What is that about? Is it some kind of new-fangled speech I'm not aware of? It's made even worse for me because I'm used to the A-Fed version where he, of the Ukranian accent, English-as-a-Second-Language thing, pronounces the word correctly and sings from his lungs and not his nostrils. Maybe people in the Northeast say it wrong or something? Who told them to sing it this way? I swear, I'm going to kick their ass because it's going to be on my radio for the rest of the summer and it's going to drive me insane.

This isn't my first issue with BSB and the English language. In their ye olde hit All I Have to Give they say "Does he leave when you need him the most? Does his friends get all your time?" ARGH! Totally nails on the chalkboardesque! Would it have ruined the artistic integrity of the song to say "Do his friends get all your time?" It's not like this is supposed to be some bad-ass tune that makes you think they're at one with the streets or something -- it's a LOVE SONG. It certainly doesn't change the rhyme or the meter...whatever. I'm not usually picky about stuff like that, but the entire song is OK with subject/verb agreement and then you get hit with some seriously bad improper English. I think it only bothered me so much at the time because they were huge with little girls, and I didn't want them growing up being all "Does you know where I can find the complete works of Shakespeare?" or something.

Gah. I just thought of it again. That noise is not pleasant...hope you all don't notice it now, too...

Go for Gold Somewhere Else

God, give it up, NYC. We DON'T need the Olympics here, yet you act as if this city's future hinges on this concept. Everyone I talk to about this just rolls their eyes and says the same thing: "If the Olympics come here, I'm getting out of town for two weeks." And these are native NY sports fans, people. I love the Olympics hardcore, but all I see are the aggravations it would bring down on the area, and the joy of the Games itself is not enough to overcome that (or the debt it's going to put the city in) for me. That and the fact that this country has hosted the Games four times in 25 years years is enough for now, don't you think? Let's spread the love a bit.

Monday, June 13, 2005

KB Fall Down, Go Boom!

So in between the Michael Jackson verdict and leaving the office for the day, I managed to take a nice flop on the bathroom floor, which I hadn’t noticed was wet from being freshly mopped. I came down pretty hard on my knee and palm, and pulled my right shoulder a bit, but I didn’t feel busted up or anything. But the weird thing is, the only thought that popped in my head right after I fell was “You are OK. You are NOT going back to the emergency room!”

I guess that night six months ago scarred me or something, because the notion of another blood sample and IV, along with being questioned to death on the date of my last period (and feeling like they didn’t believe me or something when I could assure them the cramps I was experiencing then were because it really was the first day of my monthly visitor. I got asked THREE times and each time I laughed because 1) I know about the birds and the bees, and the only way I could be with child right then was if you really could get pregnant from a guy looking at you and 2) if pregnancy involves vomiting and diarrhea that vicious, I’m never having kids. Also, when I asked for something to ease the cramps – and I meant some kind of liquefied/IV-friendly Advil or Tylenol, not morphine – the nurse gave me a look as if I was offering to sell her my fake unborn baby for crack money. Seriously, I think she thought I was a junkie and using the old cramps excuse or something. But anyway.) and the doctors silently making fun of the barf bucket I’d brought along (because I wasn’t about to yack all over Melissa’s car or the waiting room – excuse me for having some presence of mind in between feeling like I was going to die)…well, let’s just say I’m pretty much going to avoid going again for as long as humanly possible.

And thankfully, the banged-up parts of my body seem to be in agreement with me, because aside from a bruised knee, I’m a’ight. So no, no lawsuit necessary. Besides, that would require a trip to the doctor and he might try to take blood or something and we can’t run that risk… It’s all about mind over matter, peeps. And avoiding the needles at all cost.

Rant Alert!!!

Oh my god. I just read something that made me irate -- a Met fan accusing a Yankee fan of being more of a "Yankee fan" than a "Baseball fan" and that somehow, all of us Yankee fans are that way and nobody else is. First off, shut up. Secondly, ARGH. I've been hearing this argument A LOT lately, and never is it followed with anything less than rage from me. Only now have I decided to respond to it, as I'm just sick and tired and ready to explode. Ready? OK!

The whole you're a "Yankee fan, not a baseball fan": Well, then if you're cheering the Yankees out-of -town score at your team's game (and you are not a rival team in the AL East fighting them for a playoff spot), and reveling in the Yankees' misery does this make you less of a fan of your team and more of a baseball fan? I'm sorry, hating the Yankees does not make you a more well-rounded baseball fan any more than my being a Yankee fan does. And don't give me the Yankee Fans Deserve It speech because, while I'm sorry one of my stupid ass bandwagon-jumping brethren was rude to you in 1999, the Yankees aren't the only team to have asshole fans who do this. Ahem.

Anyway, I'd rather stick by the Yankee part of my fandom because if I'm wearing my Yankee hat and someone asks me who I root for, I'm not going to get all glowy-eyed and Stepford smiley and Ms. America earnest and be all "Well, I'm a baseball fan first, and a Yankee fan Second." BARF. I'm wearing the fucking hat because I'm proud of my team, regardless of what they do. I would assume anyone wearing their team's hat is doing the same thing. Because by loving one team you ARE loving the game of baseball. You can't, like, separate one from the other. But tell that to some who think being so invested in one team somehow alienates you from the whole game...but only if you're a Yankee fan.

It's like people who get upset that we cheer for the country of our nationality during the Olympics -- yeah, I love hearing stories about athletes from all over the globe, but when the shit comes down, I'm rooting for my fellow countrymen. Does this make me less of a sports fan and more of an America fan or something? Is it only bad if Americans root for Americans, but not bad for the Norwegians to root for Norwegians because they are not a superpower? Or something? Anyway.

Secondly, this "You're just a Yankee fan, not a baseball fan" argument seems like the comeback fans of other teams have sat thinking up for the past 10 years. Like, some jackass idiot of the Yankee faith (because I can admit my team has asshole fans, which seems to be something these so-called "baseball" fans will never admit to when it comes down to their fave team -- oh, wait, they're BASEBALL fans, so sorry to have mixed it up) taunted them in 1996-2000, and only NOW do they have a comeback for it. Also, the Sux and Cubs fans who've wallowed/still wallow in their "woe is us" mentality because of their curses, not acknowledging the hardluck of other teams...does this make them any less a baseball fan? Do Met fans who think the world stopped spinning after 1986 get a free pass or something? Because if I'm not mistaken, Yankee fans haven't cornered the market on being part of this "my team over the sport" idea. The fact that you point your finger directly at the Yankees and only them makes me wonder if we can open a whole new can of worms and break it down into "Fans of Teams, Fans of Baseball, Fans of Hating the Yankees." And to me, the latter is the far worst of all, not because it hurts me (because it doesn't, asswipe) but because it's the biggest waste of energy and I pity those who do this.

And, please,I don't see how you can work a 9-5 job, live a life and love one team diehardly as if it were your own child and still have enough time to focus on the other 29 teams out there. I check out the standings, I watch highlights from around the league -- but my DNA was genetically programmed to love a certain team in pinstripes, and I'm not sorry to say that. If I can't tell you who's riding the bench for the Padres, it's not because I am an ignorant Yankee fan -- it's because I only have two eyes and one brain and an all-consuming love for one team and one team alone.

I also wonder how many "baseball" fans there would be if not for internet fantasy leagues -- because those suckers make you focus hardcore on other teams, as you HAVE to follow players all over the place if you want to stay competitive in your league. So spare me if THIS is the only reason you have so much "knowledge" and not because you'd be interested otherwise.

I'm sure there are people who love the game of baseball more than a certain team, and good for them -- they've certainly saved themselves a lot of angst and late nights by deciding to not invest in one particular team so deeply. But if you loved the game so much as a whole, you wouldn't spend so much time and energy focusing your negative energy on one team. A team that, I may remind you, hasn't won anything in five years. And, quite honestly, to me, that's a symptom of an inferiority complex to the highest degree, and not the mentalilty of a well-rounded admirer of the game of baseball.

But I'm just a Yankee fan. What do I know?

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Me. And A-Fed. Under the Same Roof. EEEEEEEE!!!!

Man, I must be smitten. How else do you explain why I made a trip to MSG today, but not really to see the Liberty game that was being held there? Oh no. I was there to see A-Fed sing the national anthem, baby! I've seen him in the flesh and was in the same public facility that he was -- SQUEE!

This would've been my opportunity to be all "A-Fed! The Yankees need you in the starting rotation! Oh, and can you sing some Journey, please?" but I was able to control myself.

I went solo, not wanting to drag anyone along for torture (but thanks to Dexter for volunteering to come) and got myself a center court seat about halfway between the upperdeck and the floor. This was awesome because A-Fed waited below me during the pre-game warmups and I had the perfect view of him -- until this dude with a really big head sat in front of me. I mean, come on. The whole row in front of me is empty and he goes and takes the seat directly in line with my A-Fed gazing. Hmph. But then he took to the court to sing, and it didn't matter if the dude's head was blocking me because he sang to the other side of the arena and the color guard blocked him on the floor. So I made do with the JumboTron.

Lucky Madison Square Garden behind-the-scenes workers. I bet none of them voted with two phones at once!

His singing? Man, this kid can belt it out. It's as if the people who decided to turn Francis Scott Key's poem into a song had someone like A-Fed in mind for the job -- and that's not me being all fangirly. It's perfect for his range and the somewhat operatic nature of his voice. He kicked ass on it and I seriously hope I get to see him sing it at a Yankee game sometime soon -- that there would be the awesomest combo ever, I think.


Anyway, he came out and sat in the first row of the floor seats, directly across from me, so my attention wasn't on the game so much, I must admit. He was all into it, which was adorable, and damn it, there were three empty seats right next to him. What I wouldn't give to have a seat like that, and sit there discussing the Yankees and the finer points of power ballads with him...Fuck, I gotta write this book and at least try to become famous enough to have a PR person, so I can meet him and the Yankees and Tyler Florence and stuff like that.

I left at the half, kind of headachey from squinting, and roamed outside MSG a bit to see if maybe he'd wander by. But it was too hot to stay out there, so I'll just have to be content with what I got today.

PS -- my dad's reaction to all this? "Next thing you know, you'll be hanging out at arena league football games."

Saturday, June 11, 2005

Any Horse in a Storm

So in between a downpour and a kick-ass thunderstorm, Dexter and I wandered down to the Waterfront to see the Clydesdales. We both found it kind of sad in a way, as there wasn't much of a crowd, probably due to the moody weather today. Or maybe people were hiding from all the political people skulking around town today, ready to pounce on you if you made eye contact. One guy supporting The Challenger came over to us and tried to sell us on her and I was all like "I just want to see the horsies, dude" but we were nice and let him do his spiel, and he went on his merry way. Dexter, who takes politics very seriously, just shook his head and was like "I've never seen anything like this mayoral race." But it wasn't over there because Mayor McCheese himself got to ride with the Clydesdales on the Bud 1 airship or wagon or whatever it's called. Thank god the election is over next week, because it's seriously getting obnoxious.

And thank god we left when we did (Dexter was off to a concert and I wanted to get home to see the Belmont) because the evilest looking clouds started hovering over Hoboken, and man did we get a wicked one. Too bad these things are supposed to pop up for the next few days -- we went from Early spring to August in a matter of a week. I guess it's better than freezing, but still.

Anyway, some photos from today:


Aww! Horsies!! With big fluffy feet!


I don't know how this dog did it, but he just roamed around up there without a care as the carriage moved. I find this fascinating because my old big brute of a Labrador was terrified of just being at the top of a staircase, yet this little Dalmation here is like "Yawn, big horses, beer, heights, big whoop."


It's Mayor McCheese himself! Though he was apparently giving out free bottles of water on the pier today, according to Carolyn, so maybe we can call him Mayor McAgua.


No, that's not the SS Mystique & Aura -- our boat's a hell of a lot awesomer and bigger than this. No, this is just a nice sailboat that I hope found a port before the raging storm hit.

Tomorrow, I am off on a top-secret mission. If I accomplish it, I may have photos AND an audiopost. That's all you need to know for now...

This and That

No, A-Fed! You're supposed to be practicing your curveball, not your backhand! Though I might just be able to forgive it since he's working the backward Yankee hat so well...along with everything else.

Speaking of, why did I have this feeling I was going to wake up to a headline screaming that one of the Yankee coaching staff was getting the ax? I'm really, really, really interested to see just HOW patient old age has made George...

And Dexter? Starting today, I'm going to nag you via this blog to post the photos from last night. *Rubs hands together evily.*

Horsies in Hoboken...While Hungover? (Us, Not the Horses)

Dancing and drinking with the Crew was in full effect tonight, so I'm not exactly sure the field trip to see the Clydesdales in Hoboken will go down as planned later today, but I'm sure we'll try. I mean, it's the Clydesdales! Yay!

And I'm so glad Jesse has a birthday today, because if not, I never would've found out the title and artist of a song that's been driving me nuts for about a year. Woo-hoo!

And I'm so over disappointment. It can, like, totally kiss my ass. Are you afraid, now, disappointment? Yeah, run, you mother f'er, run.

Friday, June 10, 2005

Q for The Baseball Fans

Has anyone ever watched a game online through MLB.TV? If so, does the national anthem come with that? I ask only because a certain American Idol Performer is rumored to be doing the national anthem at tomorrow night's Phillies game, and since it's not an interleague matchup, well, I could be enticed to plop down 3.75 for the game...

I Want My Game Back

Well, I'm glad someone agrees with me.

The biggest indictment of interleague play, which began with the 1997 season, is that Major League Baseball has never figured out a way to implement it fairly. Such a small matter has failed to interest the game's front office, however.

After the 1994 lockout and the cancellation of the World Series that year, baseball's brain trust was willing to try any and all gimmicks to lure back the fans it had driven away with sticks.

Rather than trust in the product they had - and find a way to impose some fiscal sanity on it - Bud Selig and the backroom boys went for the cheap thrill. They even had the audacity to invent annual "rivalries" they hoped would somehow take root, ignoring the fact that the game likes to nurture something so fragile over decades.

It's what I've been saying all along -- Interleague Play was baseball's band-aid for a wound that wasn't a surface cut, but internal bleeding. I much rather would have had an apology than something to make me "forget" 1994 and make me "excited" about baseball again. It was as if they thought fans would be like "Oh wow! We're playing the NL this week! Who cares if they canceled the World Series in 1994!" And then people actually showed up, buzzing about the new "rivalries" that would start, playing right into MLB's hands. That is why I will never go to another Interleague Game (I went to a Yanks/Braves game in 1997 and felt dirty the whole time) and why I don't watch it on TV. It's my personal message to MLB: I am not so easily bought. Oh, yeah, and I hate what it's done to the World Series, too. But that's another rant all together.

Give me more games with the AL East -- because if I'm not mistaken, it's the Jays, O's, Sux, and D-Ray's we fight with to get to the playoffs, and not the Pirates.

Whatever. I know I'm in the minority. I'm dealing with it.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

A Big Pile of Gush

Can I tell you how bowled over I am by A-Rod's little milestone last night? Christ, I'm his peer and I'm not sure I've done anything of note 400 times. FOUR HUNDRED home runs. And he is 29. Maybe it's because we are close in age that this just seems so huge to me, but damn, if he should decide to have a few 40-50 home run seasons (and he's totally capable of that), he'll be in the 500 Club by the time he's 32. That's just sick.

Let's put it this way -- Gary Sheffield, known to crank them out, has 425 home runs and he is 36. Totally awesome, right?

Yeah, this is a man so totally despised by his teammates alright...whatev, naysayers. DJ, his sworn enemy, looks like the Webster's Dictionary definition illustration for Delighted. Then again, he knows he's winning that Clubhouse Danceoff next week, so that could be it...

The best was seeing him during the post game last night. First off, the movie evening worked out perfectly because I got home in time to miss the Interleague crapola entirely, but I could see highlights and interviews regarding A-Rod's 400th. As soon as they got to him in the clubhouse (after seeing Moose with very weird hair, which I found endlessly amusing), you could see something different in his face. To me? He finally looked at ease. He was just a guy totally psyched (in a low-key way, but you could see in his eyes he was happy as all get out) and maybe a bit in awe over what he had just done. When he smiled, it went straight to his eyes, which I don't think I've seen on him, as he normally seems a combination of guarded and determined to say the right thing, trying not to express too much emotion. He was asked about if he'd done anything differently last night since it had been awhile since he'd had an RBI or something and he was going on and finally he was like "You know what? I don't know." And he seemed OK with not having the "correct" answer. Maybe that's the result of therapy, or maybe it's that he's stringing together some memorable performances this year and he feels like he's contributing. Whatever it is, it's nice to see.

Not a true Yankee...pshaw.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

On the Pier with my Peers

You know, I can take all of Mayor McCheese and the Challenger, and the drunken Lost Boys, and the lack of an Animal Control department in Hoboken -- as long as I can have as lovely a night as I did tonight, it's all worth it. First off, since it's now mid-Summer in early June, you get great night-time hang-outside temperatures. Second, it's Wednesday, so it's free movie night on the Pier. Third, forget the movie, you've got the most stunning view of Manhattan right behind the screen, across the Hudson. You get boats going by and in the dark all you see is the outline of their lights, and you hear the waves lapping up against them as they cut through the water. You get a slightly salty air smell (though not as much as down by my parents' house when it's high tide on the Navesink), and if you're lucky, the neighboring city will be having a fireworks display, and though you can't see it from your vantage point on the pier, you do see the fireworks' reflected on the buildings of lower Manhattan across the river. So. Freaking. Awesome.

Also awesome is getting to hang with your friends, picnicing while you watch the movie. Tonight's Quote of the Evening Award goes to Eric, who is giving notice to his current job tomorrow, and he's way excited because "You haven't lived until you've resigned!" I guess that means I got that checked off early in my career, and I forgot that it is kind of a nice, smug/proud moment when you get to leave a job you're disenchanted with. So here's to living via giving notice. May everyone know that bizarre joy at some point in their lives.

I am Holding Myself to This

Good lord, I really do think I'm just going to elope when I get married. I'm listening to my co-workers go on about wedding "ettiquette" right now and it's just stupid as all hell. Dude, the day is supposed to be about you and the love of your life saying "Yeah, man, we're going to spend the rest of our lives together! Come celebrate with us!" and instead it turns into who of the invitees is going to be slighted or insulted over this and that and the other thing. And every recently married person I know always rolls their eyes and says the day becomes more about pleasing everybody else than it does about pleasing the bride and groom. What's up with that?

I can honestly tell you that if I'm dropping a boatload of money on a wedding, it is going to be all about pleasing me and the husband. It will be OUR day to the extreme. So yeah, if there's not enough Carvel ice cream wedding cake to go around and some fourth cousin six times removed gets insulted because I'm too busy watching the Yankee game on a TV under the table to soothe her bruised ego because she didn't get a piece, well, so be it.

Money Changes Everything, But Only If You're a Yankee

Last night I was conversing with Eric (who isn't exactly enamored with the Bronx Bombers) about the whole Yankee slump thing. He played baseball up through college, and when I said Joe should just go on a rampage and show everyone he's pissed, Eric just shook his head and said stuff like that won't work on a Jeter or a Posada. He says they're freaking out right now mentally because they've never been in a losing way before, and they don't know any better. He asked me why I think the whole team is slumping in general and I said it's probably because you've got guys who are just mired in badness right now (Matsui) alternating with guys who are trying to press like crazy to make up for it (Jeter and Jorge, swinging at anything that moves, especially the first pitch). In fact, the only guy I see as being free as a bird and looking at ease out there right now is Cano, and I think it's because he knows he's a kid and can make some mistakes. It must be a freeing feeling. So if there were really a chill pill available on the market, I'd send the Yankees a case with a note that says "Lighten up and just play." Unfortunately, George Steinbrenner is signing their paychecks, so I'm not sure anyone will ever tell them this.

But what I find most interesting is that as a whole, fans seem to think the money thing is what's making the worst part about the losing. "Ahhhh, those millionaires just don't care." I love this. Because when I see the look of frustration on the faces of A-Rod, Jeter, Bernie, Matsui, et. al, I see guys who DO in fact care, but for whatever reason, they cannot figure themselves out. I don't know where a high salary ever suddenly enabled someone with the ability to be their own personal shrink, but apparently fans think this should be the case. I honest to god think that these guys are so damn good, that when they're bad they malfunction and just exaccerbate the problems even more. That's a problem with a lot of overachievers in any arena of life, though. Maybe they should be able to work it out better than the rest of us since they are getting paid more, but I just don't see how this is humanly possible.

Oh, yeah, plus it's not their fault someone is willing to pay them all that money. But tell that to Vinnie at the local bar who clings to the good old days of Brosius and Paulie and the "good guys" (who apparently played for food and shelter, nothing more), who got their rings because they had "heart" and "wanted it more." Gag me. And this is coming from someone who counts Oct. 26, 1996 as probably the best day of her life.

Let me put it this way -- the Yanks of the early 90s...we just basically say they sucked. We don't accuse them of having No Heart or Being Millionaires Who Are Losing on Purpose Just to Piss Us Off (believe me, this is what I'm certain some people are getting at in their rants.) No, "they sucked" is usually enough, despite the fact that they were getting paid pretty well. But you put big-headline trades and dollar signs in front of the players names, and mix in fans who jumped on the bandwagon after 1996 and don't know losing, and you go from Randy Johnson Sucks to $Randy Johnson Is Making Millions of Dollars and He Can't Win For Us Because He's Old and George Steinbrenner is an Asshole for Getting rid of His Younger Players and Millionaires Who Lose Have No Heart$ You see where I'm going here. Anyway, I just don't get why we need a qualifier to say they're stinking up the joint. Yeah, they're being paid to win...but isn't every Major League Baseball player? The League average, fuck, the League minimum is more than any of us will probably ever make, but we harbor no ill will toward the guy making 350,000 who's sucking big balls on the Tigers simply because he's not making in the millions?

Oh, right. Stuff like this can only be said by people bitter with the Yankees just because that's how we've been conditioned. Silly me.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Born Too Late for the Good Life

So right now I'm reading I Capture the Castle on recommendation from Dorothy, and I'm really enjoying it. But it is bothering me in one way -- the narrator is 17, done with school and doesn't have to work. Granted, it takes place in England in the 1930s, and her family is on the poor side, but she gets to stay home and write in her journal all day (she even gets out of chores so she can write) and when she's not writing she pretty much just thinks about her life. Like, hello? Why didn't anyone suggest this to me before I went into college loan debt? I mean, yeah, I'd have to worry about marrying someone with money (when I'd already be considered a spinster), but that would mean I could keep on blogging/journaling/writing for the rest of my life. WITHOUT HAVING A DAY JOB. I could even luck out and marry a cute guy with money and all we'd do is watch Yankee games all day and have dinner parties at night. That would rule.

My dad has said he likes watching Jane Austen movies "because nobody ever works" and he finds this to be awesome. And it's true. Most of her books are about women worrying desperatley that they'll never marry suitably because they are poor -- but damn, they've never had to work a day in their life! Even the men just sit around being Gentlemen, whatever that is, and just inherit money and live off of that. Must be nice!

Yeah, Liz, your life is just soooooooooooo hard. Reading all day, partying by heart bleeds for you.

PS -- I don't get why they're coming out with a big-screen version of P&P when the A&E one, which is only 10 years old, was just so freaking solid, and possibly un-toppable. I'd actually go as far as to say it may be one of the best screen adaptations of a book ever. But maybe Hollywood is working over time to try and pursuade us that working really does suck and that we should seek to be 19th Century Ladies and Gentlemen instead of toiling away at desk jobs...

In Which I Just About Hate Everyone With a Column

Now, I didn't watch last night, and I've been avoiding the media in general the last few days because they wouldn't be telling me anything I didn't already know, but when I saw this link over at Lupe's, I just had to speak out:

From the NY Sun: As bad as things have been for the Yankees, there hasn't been much speculation about Joe Torre. There probably should be. A team's lack of talent or desire or luck can't be held against a manager, but what can and should be is careless play and a failure to get the most out of the talent on hand. Never the greatest tactician, Torre's strength for nearly a decade has been his ability to get the most out of veteran players. If he's not doing that, what use is he?

Good fucking lord. I should've known a week and a half of losing would start the finger pointing. What use is he? Have you seen any clubhouse meltdowns this season? Have the "surly" players been reigned in from the instigating media? I mean, I understand the argument that a good manager is supposed to get the most out of his players, but can you imagine somebody like a Stump Merrill or Dallas Green in this situation? Yeah, I thought so. This is an awful time for the Yanks right now, but I've got to say that I'm highly impressed that nobody has gone apeshit. And having dealt with some frustrations in the last five years and never having a combat zone for a clubhouse, I think it's safe to say that Joe has done his job quite well. You're going to have the "they're veterans and you can't change 'em" problem with ANY manager that comes in there, so I don't get why you single Torre out when he's done MORE than enough for this team in the last 10 years with those same veterans.

And just a reminder, you can't blame him for dumping money on the wrong people. That, my friends, is all Brian Cashman and one Mr. Steinbrenner. But again, if you don't know that this comes with the territory, I highly doubt you were a Yankees fan in the 80s, early 90s.

My personal biggest problem with this team right now is that they aren't exhibiting patience of any kind at the plate. And apparently Joe had it out with all of them last week over this very issue. And that very night, Tino, Jorge, i.e. the "dynasty guys" who are supposed to be go-to guys were the ones hacking away at the first thing they saw. So...who do we blame for this? Joe can't pick up a bat and step in there in these guys' places. There is something big, ugly and mental going on with this team this season. Joe, and any other manager, can only do so much when the shit is in your head, especially when it's happening to 25 guys at once. Just as much as I know it isn't up to my boss to motivate me every day, I know it's the guys' making in the millions responsibility to get their motivation from themselves, and not from the guy filling out the lineup card every night.

So, in short, fans and columnists need to shut the fuck up and deal with the losing instead of pointing the finger. We're certainly not the first team this has happened to, and it certainly won't be the last. And for christ's sake, it ain't over till it's over. God, if I've learned anything in my years as a fan, it's that.

Monday, June 06, 2005

I've Got it All Figured Out!!

Judging by this article and photo from the Intelligencer from A-Fed's fan appearance yesterday, I'd like it very much if he re-thought his career plans:

For more than two hours, Fedorov greeted an endless line of fans, his toothpaste smile never dimming. He shook hands, asked people’s names and paged through one fan’s Anthony album.

“I feel like a baseball star,” he said.


Dude, this is a sign. Forget the singing career...OK, maybe you can sing the national anthem before every game and record in the off-season or something. George will work it out. But you are left-handed and had the urge to throw a softball overhand -- get thee in a Yankee uniform, stat!

Maybe we can trade Kevin Brown and a player to be named later to the American Idol Tour in exchange for A-Fed...I mean, it can't hurt, right?

An Athlete I Ain't

So I was thinking about how unathletic I am this weekend, and how I'm finally OK with that. I mean, I'm in shape and I get mistaken for a runner a lot because my legs are pretty lean from walking so damn fast everywhere, but I always hated that I've never been coordinated enough to be sporty. I ran track in high school, but it doesn't take much coordination to have to run. My coach wanted me to try the high jump, and while I could do this just fine in gym class, I couldn't when it came down to trying out for it. Like, I could not coordinate myself to jump over the bar correctly. This was probably a subconcious thing because I was there for the "track" aspect of the team and not the "field" so much. I liked running. I'd still do it today if I wasn't worried about my knees and ankles getting f'ed up. So walking fast is my one athletic activity.

Anyway, I was pretty much reminded of all this on Saturday morning, as I was doing my usual Summer Saturday stroll through the 'Boken, and I came across the Little League field. These kids were practicing in a little area off the field, and all of a sudden, I see a baseball land on the other side of the fence, a few feet from me. I instinctively walked toward it as a kid asked "Can you get that, please?" It was right before I picked up the ball that I was like "EEEEK! I have a terrible arm! I'm going to take this kid's head off if I throw it back." Which is very true because when throwing, I can be either very accurate or very Knoblauchian. So I just stopped myself from thinking, reared back and tossed the ball over the fence, hoping I at least looked like someone who appreciated baseball (I was wearing my Yankee hat) and liked the idea of kids playing it. The ball went over just fine and I got a "Thanks!" from the kid when it landed in his glove. And I was like "Go me!" because I didn't kill anyone.

Then, that night, we gathered at a bar in the city to celebrate Eric's taking the CFA exam he'd been studying for since, like, the beginning of time. It was the first time we got to hang out with him in almost a month and a half, that's how serious he took this. Anyway, at one point Liana was like "Do you want to play darts?" meaning, we'd be challenging Eric's friend Mark and his roommate, who had been playing all night to that point. I was like "Uhhhhh, OK," wondering if I could get sued if the darts somehow escaped my hand and ended up piercing the nice man playing the guitar and singing Jimmy Buffett across the room. But I didn't have to worry -- I actually hit the dartboard or the surrounding area everytime. And I even got us some points and hit targets I was actually aiming for. Liana and I actually challenged the guys pretty well, even if we did end up losing at the very end there. It was all very exciting because, again, I didn't kill anyone.

So that's my new thing. Yeah, I suck at sports, but if I don't think about that, I can still have a good time participating in them. Especially if no lives are lost as a result of my suckage.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

Stop and Smell the Basil


In an attempt to lighten the tense Yankee mood, The Chicken wanted to show off how nice the herbs are coming -- that's the A-Rod Basil still going strong after a year on the sides, the El Capitan Parsley overflowing from its little container (transplant time to a bigger pot approaching) the newly planted Joe Torre Thyme seeds in the middle, and the sparse, but growing none the less Tino Oregano on the right.

Are you cheered of your Yankee melancholy now? Good. Me too.

Out of Sight So I Don't Go Out of My Mind

All I'm going to say is that it's a damn good thing the shitty ass interleague play (and thus my self-imposed exile) is starting because if I have to watch one more inning of the sucktacular crap the Yanks are dishing out, I might throw the remote again. I fought the urge all weekend, and I'm kind of wishing I did just hurl the thing across the room because I might actually feel better right now instead of all this pent-up anger and ready to snap-ish.

So off I go to my little Interleague hideaway. I hope that in the interim someone on this team grows some balls and decides to right the ship, and when I emerge that all is good again so my remote can stop quaking in fear.

Though the fact that A-Fed showed up at a fan event in Pa. today in his Yankee hat warmed my heart greatly. Hey, I gotta take joy in the little things.

Saturday, June 04, 2005

In Which I Chuck My Radio Out the Window

Fuck you, CBS FM. I listened to your station for the oldies (yes, a 28-year-old can like "old" music). I can honestly say I won't be listening to your new stuff, which, I may add, is being played by every other station on the dial. Good luck, asshats.

And, you know, for a city that prides itself on being so diverse, I find it highly odd that it no longer has an oldies or country radio station, when the listenerships are probably two of the largest in the U.S. (baby boomers and country music fans). Whatever.

Thank god for Music Choice on cable -- all the types of music in the universe and not one commercial or annoying DJ. Or stupidly annoying decisions made by executives with their heads up their asses, for that matter.

Friday, June 03, 2005


Can I just send a big giant Tell Off into the universe right now and have it apply to, like, everyone donning pinstripes, Michael Kay, the fucking Metro Dome, people who blame the losing on a "lack of heart," political ads on the YES Network and anyone who hates the Yankees for no better reason than "just because"? Good, because I needed to get that off my chest, and after having a dream last night where I told someone off (who really needed to be told off) and feeling so great this morning, I've decided I need to do this more.

Oh, and if I owe you a tell off too, then consider yourself...told.

Reading is Fun, Duh, Mental

More book fun for the Book It Friday.

You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451. Which book do you want to be?
We're going to just simplify this question to What Book Do You Want to Be, because somehow in the four years I was in high school, and the four years I was an English major, I never read Farenheit 451. Anyway, I would be Winnie The Pooh by A.A. Milne. If you've never read it or The House at Pooh Corner, go get them. I hate what Disney has done to Pooh, in that the books are loaded with subtle humor and lovingly written -- and it doesn't translate in cartoons. And Rabbit might just be the awesomest literary character ever, in my humble opinion.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?
Is it wrong that I'm going to name a character I created? I mean, he's still fictional! He's Eric Paulson, and he is Julia's big crush, and I never intended for him to become so swoon-worthy, but it somehow happened. He is slightly based on a guy I used to know, who I thought would make the perfect first teenage "love of your life" though he is about 99.8 percent made up. If only he'd existed when I was in high school. Sigh.

The last book you bought is?
Man, I don't even remember -- I've been reading a lot of books I've borrowed lately. I think it was Little Children by Tom Perrotta (great author -- check his stuff out...even if I think he has issues with putting women up on pedestals and then pitting them against each other.)

What are you currently reading?
Just finished The Hoboken Chicken Emergency -- yes, this IS a book (and it has nothing to do with my Chicken) and I highly recommend it to people living in the 'Boken. You can read it in two nights and it's hilarious.

Five books you would take to a deserted island
Well, we know from Lost that when you're on a deserted island, there isn't much time for reading. But when I'm not running away from monsters and creepy kidnappers...

Lonesome Dove, Larry McMurtry: A book I had no clue about when I bought it, ends up being probably my all time fave when I'm done. Probably the most "complete" novel I've ever read and I couldn't put it down from the middle through the end. Buy this book, get through the slow-ish first chapters, and then sit back and enjoy the ride. And hey, I didn't think I'd like a western either, but I was wrong.

Sloppy Firsts, Megan McCafferty: The best teen book I've ever read, and I'd argue that this is as much as book for adults as it is for teenagers.

Ramona The Brave, Beverly Cleary: Children's literature at its finest, and as long as kids are kids, it will forever stand the test of time.

A Prayer for Owen Meany, John Irving: I still can't put my finger on why I loved this one so much, but all I know is that when I got to the last few pages, I literally locked myself in the bathroom so I wouldn't be disrupted by my college roommates. That's how I know I like a book, right there.

The big old book of Shakespeare that I stupidly sold back to the bookstore in college. It had all his plays and poems in it, and I think it cost like 60 bucks to buy and I sold it back for 5. Stupid 20-year-old self! You'll want that book later!

And I'd be working on my own book, of course, because maybe The Others know of a publishing company on the island that would take a chance on a kid with a dream from Jersey.

Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why?
Forget just three, it's gotta be all of You. If you have a link on this blog, you must do this. So let it be written, so let it be done.

Reading Day

In honor of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants hitting theaters today (and longtime readers will know I read the book many, many moons ago), I'm going to declare this Book It Friday at The Complete and Total Bisch. Since the Yanks don't seem to want to make me happy right now, I'm devoting today's posts to one of the other loves of my life: reading. Unfortunately, I haven't read much lately. 1) I'm trying to write my own book 2) The Yanks are a nice big distraction and 3) I have little patience for crap and that's all I seem to be picking up these days -- and I am in no way a liteary snob as you will see. In fact, the best reading I've done lately has been kids/teen books, so make of that what you will.

Anyway a few of my co-workers and I are heading off to see The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants tonight. You don't know how awesome it was to come across people my age who loved this book as much as I did. This all led into a discussion of how we miss the Baby Sitter's Club and Sweet Valley books, which, I'm going to admit right here had A LOT to do with my wanting to become a writer. Laugh all you want, but they had a big influence on little 11-year-old me. I mean, I was already writing at that point (see: The Math People, my first fine literary works at the age of 6), but this made me realize that there was a market for writing about things that happen to teen and pre-teen girls, and they don't have to be all dramatic and genius and serious (which ain't my thing even today).

Jessica's sneaking out to the Johnny Buck concert! Like, she's so slick, I bet she doesn't get caught!

Sweet Valley Twins/High: My first foray into YA reading was with Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield. For some reason, things were a little more soapy in Sweet Valley than they were in the BSC's Connecticut. Probably because Jessica was the demon spawn sometimes, contrasting her twin Elizabeth's way too goody-goodyness. I think I wanted to smack both of them at some point for their behavior -- and this was coming from one of their peers. I really enjoyed the Twins more than the High series because...well, I don't really know why. I guess love triangles really weren't my thing at the age of 12, and Jessica got more bitchy and Elizabeth became more of a tightass as they got older, so I guess the High books alienated me or something.

Ohmigod, you guys! Logan likes Mary Anne! Though one wonders how this even happened since Mary Anne never spoke and Stacy was sitting there with her fluffy hair and was totally every guy's fantasy or something.

The Baby Sitter's Club: It started out with four main characters, then more were added and dropped along the way. Every character was someone a girl could "relate" too, though I think the point was that that there's a little bit of you in every character. I could be wrong. I mean, I'm still trying to figure out how Claudia's parents let her out of the house dressed like she was on some serious drugs, how no adult thought it was the least bit bizarre that Mary Anne's father MADE her wear her hair in braids, how many jeans and turtlenecks Kristy actually owned and why in the name of god was Stacy's "fluffy" hair considered cool. But those books were like my crack. I would wait every month for them to come out (and that, my friends, is what we call ghostwriting at its finest. How the hell an author produces a 120 page book a month by herself is beyond me) and then devour them in like two hours. By the time the books numbered in the 30s, I was too old for them, but they go all the way to 130 or something, and I fully intend to catch up somehow.

And for good measure:

Just As Long As We're Together, Judy Blume: I have a confession to make -- I still read this book about once a year, just to get motivated. It's one of the most realistic portrayals of pre-teen life I've ever read, and alternately funny and sad. That people consider banning Judy Blume's books is just freaking insane. God forbid a book mention a girl getting her period -- the horrors! Other girls might try to get their periods too and that's just evil!

I have no problem admitting to wanting to read this stuff now, when I'm way past the target audience. Probably because it gives you your plot and resolution in such a way that it doesn't take you weeks to finish. If that's me being lazy, so be it.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Anything to Ignore the Game Right Now...

Well, in honor of Erica getting a blog and an iPod, I wanted to be the first to "tag" her into doing one of these survey thingamajigs. Anyone else who wants to participate on their blogs, I say go for it.

I recommend hooking up your iPod to your computer to do this, especially when doing the searches for Love, Peace, etc. Or better still, just go off your computer's playlist (and this way those of you who are iPod-less can participate, too.)

How many songs?
1146 songs, 3 days total playing time, 4.95 Gb

Sorted by song title, the first and last songs:
"Knock the Cover Off the Ball," The Natural soundtrack (no idea why this is alphabetically first, but whatever)
Your Wildest Dreams, The Moody Blues

Sorted by artist, the first and last songs:
Just Got Paid, 'N SYNC (alphabetical first artist because of the apostrophe before the N, I assume)
If I Can't Have You, Yvonne Elliman

Sorted by album, the first and last songs:
20th Century Masters, Vanessa Williams
Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow, The Greatest Hits of Kenny Loggins

Top 10 most-played songs:
Hey Baby, Bruce Channel (this surprised me)
I Want You to Want Me, Cheap Trick
Your Love, The Outfield
Dance With Me, Orleans
You're the One For Me, D-Train
Hole Hearted, Extreme
She's the One, Bruce Springsteen
Outstanding, The Gap Band
Loverboy, Billy Ocean
Tempted, Squeeze

Top 10 recently played songs :
Separate Lives, Phil Collins
Every Time You Go Away, A-Fed's on-air version
Just Another Day, Jon Secada
Love Hurts, Nazareth
I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For, U2
Open Your Heart, Madonna
Dare Me, The Pointer Sisters
Hello, Goodbye, The Beatles
Overjoyed, Stevie Wonder
Just the Two of Us, Bill Withers

Find "sex"; how many songs?

Total : 1.
Do Ya Think I'm Sexy, Rod Stewart

Find "death"; how many songs?

Total : O.

Find "love"; how many songs?

Total : 137 Top 10 (because I'd be here all night naming them all):
Your Love, The Outfield
Loverboy, Billy Ocean
Friday I'm in Love, The Cure
Crazy Love, Poco
Easy Lover, Phil Collins
I Love Every Little Thing About You, Stevie Wonder
Lady Love Me, George Benson
How Deep is Your Love, The Bee Gees
Can't Live Without Your Love and Affection, Nelson (I know, I know, I know. You don't have to be my friend any more.)
Love Me Do, The Beatles

Find "peace"; how many songs?

Total : 1
Peaceful Easy Feeling, The Eagles

Find "rain"; how many songs?
Total: 7
Mandolin Rain, Bruce Hornsby
Come Rain or Come Shine, Frank Sinatra's and Ray Charles' versions
I Love A Rainy Night, Eddie Rabbitt
Rainbow Connection, Kermit the Frog
Purple Rain, Prince
Fire and Rain, James Taylor

Find "sun"; how many songs?
Total: 9
You are the Sunshine of my Life, Stevie Wonder
Sunshine Superman, Donovan
Waitin’ on a Sunny Day, Bruce Springsteen
Sundown, Gordon Lightfoot
On the Sunny side of the street, Frank Sinatra
Sunday, Bloody Sunday, U2
Walking on Sunshine, Katrina and the Waves
Powder Your Face With Sunshine, Dean Martin
Here Comes the Sun, Richie Havens


Please, Yanks, end this four-game slide right now. Because if I have to deal with one more so-called fan whining about this little losing skid, and coming to me with "Hey? What's going on with the Yankees?" as if I am the all fucking knowing or something and then they add "They need to dump all those old guys" I am seriously going to flip out. Like, stop adopting the opinions of bitter columnists and radio show guys as your own and get an original thought, jackass.

Just once, I'd love to say to these people, "MAYBE THEY'RE LOSING ON PURPOSE BECAUSE YOU SUCK AS A FAN AND THEY WANT TO BE RID OF YOU." And then see their reaction to that.

But I am thisclose to going off on someone because having dealt with them my whole life, I cannot deal anymore. Argh.

Being an optimist is easy. Dealing with dumbasses is hard.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

More From the Pinstriped Diaries

I don't know who keeps leaving me these things, but you just gotta check this shit out:

Dear Diary,

Me so sad right now. Not only lose game, but lose ping-pong table somehow. Ping-pong table, the one thing that bring me joy, missing from clubhouse. Everyone laugh at me for wanting to bring it to Kansas City from New York, but me had it wrapped up and special delivered to the Royals stadium. Me set up and play myself against the wall and me smiled the whole time, but then Mel said it was time for my pretend first inning and me got all gloomy again. Derek and Alex suddenly decided they wanted to play and me was like "Why you no play with Kevin Brown?" but since me can only communicate by grunts, they just looked at me funny and Derek was like "See you later alligator," and Alex was all "After a while crocodile." This hurt me feelings deeply. Why does everyone think Kevin Brown is a reptile? Me fully warm blooded and crave love. If you see latest Kids on Deck, you will know me is capable of smiles. Maybe they are not as charming as Derek's or Alex's but they are still smiles and me mean them.

Me wish me'd never punched that wall. Everyone think this is what I all about. They do not know wall cheated at ping-pong earlier and had it coming. Sigh.

After me lose game tonight, me feel bad because my teammates no score much. And me know they can do more than three runs, Diary. They just need to believe in themselves like me believe in them. Me wish they would realize this when me take the mound. Me just want to go out and win games and get a sparkly ring like all the pretty ones Derek has.

Oh well, me must go look for ping-pong table now. Me know me spirits will be lifted when me can play again and help me forget the pain of the loss.

Love and Friendship,

Dear Diary,

Man, oh, man, you should so be here right now! Alex and I took Kevin Brown's ping-pong table and painted it to look like the dance floor from Saturday Night Fever. It looks SO awesome! You see, we're having a clubhouse dance-off in two weeks, and Alex and I know we are going to kick everyone's asses at this and the new dance floor is perfect for practicing. Alex thinks he has a great routine to Don't Leave Me This Way, but I just learned the Hustle, so it's going to come down to everyone voting for us, and I just know I'm totally going to win because I am Derek Jeter, and winning is my thing, you know?

Hmm, why is Kevin roaming around aimlessly and muttering to himself? He almost looks like he is crying, but that can't be....

Ah, well, time to go find a kick-ass gold medallion for my costume. Maybe Joe has one from his 70s collection I can borrow...

Ciao, man,
The Cap'n