Monday, October 31, 2005

A-Fed Takes His Pants Off One Leg at a Time, Just Like You and Me

So I was doing all well in trying to think of A-Fed in an "aw-shucks, nice boy with a lovely voice" sort of way and then Inside TV and Fear Factor have to go and team up and just waggle this in front of my nose:



This is bad for a number of reasons:

1) AHDKHGFUAUSZNBKIZ! Which, translated, means he's totally, um, a man. Which means "Aww, A-Fed!" won't cut it anymore.

2) I will now actually have to watch an episode of Fear Factor, something I've been successful in avoiding for the show's entire run. (and thankfully, he filmed this awhile ago, because I was all "GOD DAMNIT A-FED, WORRY ABOUT RECORDING FIRST" when I heard he was doing the show)

3) He's taking his pants off. GAH!!


In Honor of Halloween: Slutty Blog Post!

Today the cubicle discussion centered around Halloween costumes, or should that be women's Halloween costumes, and why the only thing you see on ladies these days is the "slutty" version of something completely benign. For example, I think over the course of the last three days we've seen "slutty" nurses, "slutty" witches, "slutty" angels, "slutty" flight attendants, "slutty" bo-peeps, "slutty" farm girls, "slutty" cats, "slutty" fast food workers...OK, maybe not, but you get the drift. Like, the next time I see a girl in a non-slutty pumpkin costume I will shake her hand for being different. Not that there's anything wrong with wanting to sex things up a bit, but damn it's so cookie cutter now, and Halloween is a day where you can let your imagination run wild, but no one seems to bite. Oh yeah, and where the hell are the "slutty" male costumes?

Our freelancer Barbara wondered why we don't see more men dressed as "promiscuous vampires" or something, then brought up the point that this is probably the one day a year women can behave as a sexual being and chalk it up to the costume. Jason then noted that he feels that way "364 days a year." Which made us wonder, what's the one day he, um, feels abstinency? Jason:"Oh, come on guys, God had to rest one day too. You can't be a dynamo all year long."

Anyway, this year I came to work dressed as a copy editor. Yes sir, I made a shirt that said as much. But maybe next year I will cut down the neckline, tie up the waist past my belly button and wear stilettos. Then I can be a "slutty" copy editor! Yay!

(and I don't even want to know what kind of hits I'm going to get for typing the word slutty on this post...)

Happy Halloween From The Chicken and Friends


The Chicken hopes you get what you witch for this Halloween.


Guy wants you to know he's supposed to be a ghost and not a member of the Klan. It's hard finding costumes for tall Godzillas, but garbage bags rock.


Though still in mourning over his beloved Expos, Gustave sported this festive ribbon for the occassion.


Gator wants to run away and become a sailor, as long as he can have his little tube to help him swim.


Gary's not sure what he's supposed to be, but he likes it.


Cousin Bert hopes that Guy won't notice a few pieces of his candy are now missing...

Sunday, October 30, 2005

Doing the Time Warp. No, Really.

Dudes, I made it home from the Lower East Side in 20 minutes! How is this possible, you ask, when I had to wait for the F'ing F, then take the PATH to Hoboken and walk back to my apartment? Why, I must be magical! That's how! Or maybe the guys at Cablevision got a little gung-ho about the whole daylight savings time thing and switched our cable box clocks back at midnight. Because when I left Sarah's b-day soiree my watch said 1:05, and when I got into my bedroom the cable box clock was all "Whoa, you like totally kicked ass on time! It's 1:25!" While my alarm clock was all "What took you so long, beyotch? It's 2:25." Killjoy.

And may I say, Sarah picked a swingin' venue for her party. Almost everyone there was in costume, excluding myself (I peaked at costume-pick-outing in the 5th grade when I decided to be a box of Corn Flakes, which my mom made, and have never gotten such compliments on a costume before or since) and they played Thriller twice, which was great because Dexter got to act out the whole "MJ is a zombie and has ghouls and dead people shuffling behind him...but shit the undead can dance!" part of the video. And call Vincent Price "Mutha!"

On the way home in my time-defying journey, I sat across from an adorable dude in a Washington Nationals hat, of all things. We shared a chuckle when our conductor let out this ghoul-like giggle over the intercom and flickered the lights a bit, but that's it. Because, as with all dudes I find attractive in this damn town, he's probably got a girlfriend waiting for him at home so I wasn't about to ask him why in the name of hell he's rooting for the Nationals...

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Supermarket Sweep

Two things I observed while shuttling between two supermarkets today (as the one across the street from my apartment is almost always out of something I need when I go to make the family Soup, so I have to trek a few blocks away to the mega, suburban-sized ShopRite to find the remainder of what I need):

1) Supermarket music rocks. Or at least it does for me. Both of the Hoboken supermarkets I visited today were all about the Oldies, but the ShopRite was practically blasting that shit from the speaker system like it was a party from 1964 or something. Like, you can turn an absolutely mundane experience into an awesome one by cranking up "It's All Right" by the Impressions, as you search high and low for leeks and parnsips and marrow bones. And when you wander down the baking aisle and I Can't Help Myself by the Four Tops comes on you're all "Damn, sugar pie honey bunch, I can't help myself from buying this caramel brownie mix." It's probably some evil corporate subliminal plot, in that peppy music makes people want to shop more or something, but it makes my trip to the grocery store a little better. Just me? Yeah, I thought so.

2) What is it about the supermarket that brings out the evil side of couples? Like, I can't go in one store without one boyfriend/girlfiend husband/wife duo wearing the exhasperated, "I can't believe I'm with this dumbass" eye-rolling look as they shop. And it's always something like the Boyfriend's all "Should we get this?" and Girlfriend's all "TSK!" *eyeroll* "How do I know? They're your friends." And then he doesn't want to make a scene, so he slams whatever item he was looking at down and just keeps pushing the cart like it would make his day to run his true love over with it. What is it about grocery shopping that makes this happen? Is it the oldies music? Does it bring out the peppy in me and the "I can't deal with this person" in couples?

And I may have to start boycotting the A&P, as they don't carry my publication anywhere within public view. And why should I be giving them money when this is where part of my salary should be coming from? Hmph.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Never Listen to the Experts's post-season predictions? Not so good:

Picture 3
Picture 4
Picture 5

And here's hoping next year we can have a playoffs where all the teams lack a hook/angle/human interest story. I'm happy for the Sox and all, but can we seriously have it be about the huge effort it takes to win a World Series and not a friggin' curse anymore? Just let it be about the baseball -- its history speaks for itself.

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Who Needs To Bang on the Drum All Day?

Some of the things discussed in my department via e-mail yesterday:


What do these things all have in common (besides the fact that google images rocks our world)? They all have to do with our horoscope page. I won't even TRY to explain...but trust me, it's awesome.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Cry Me a River that Leads to Your Dumbass Dome

The gimmicky ballpark from hell is now turning people who I thought were grown men into whining ass babies. I understand that it gives them an advantage and it sucks to have the Commissioner's office decide this when they decide it for themselves for every regular season game, but the way the Astros are going about complaining about it...

``I don't think they should step in and tell us what to do in our field, because it's our home-field advantage now,'' Game 3 starter Roy Oswalt said. ``I think Chicago had their advantage there -- cold, windy. They've been playing in it all year; we haven't. So let's bring it back home and give the advantage to us now.''

Um, Roy, the cold is a benefit to no one. It makes Jose Contreras' hands cold just as much as it makes Roger Clemens' hamstring...I mean hands...cold. It's not like some weird kind of season-long evolution and the White Sox have sprouted fur as a way to adapt to April and October weather. And I've never been to Chicago, but I assume for the chunk of the baseball season (June-September), it's not 30 degrees and gusty like it was this weekend. It's a Midwestern city with a Great Lake next to it, not fucking Antarctica.

And if they are relying so much on the "advantage" part of home field advantage, and not, like, their own abilities to win the goddamn game, perhaps they shouldn't be out there to begin with.

Shut up, Astros.

Monday, October 24, 2005

That Bwess-ed Awangement, That Dweam Within a Dweam

Complete and Total Congratulations are in order as Carolyn and Rick (a.k.a. "G-Love and Special Members" and "Anonymous") became each other's "intended" today by getting engaged. They're both Yankee fans and will someday repopulate the world with more Yankee fans so this should be awesome. But not simply as awesome as these two are for each other -- having been there the night they met (in our kitchen, no less) and having a front seat for their whole courtship, I think these two crazy kids are gonna do all right. Congrats, guys!!

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Oh, To Actually Care in October...

Damn, what a crazy game for Game 2 there, huh? And it was all over by 11:30 -- that shit never happens in slugfests on Fox. The moon and stars must've been in a trine with Fox's satellite or something. And only my co-workers will truly appreciate the meaning of that last sentence.

But it's weird watching these exciting games. I mean, you sit there going "Wow, that's awesome" but it's a detached kind of "Wow." I felt that way watching Joe Carter win the 1993 World Series -- here was this impressive feat and it was total baseball history right there, as was tonight's game (though not on as huge a scale). And both times I saw the result and felt glad to have seen such things but... damn it registers so much more when you actually care about the team involved and have years of love and interest invested in it.

I mean, there's a huge difference between an impressed yet detached "Wow, good for them" and "OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT!&$%@%#! Did I just see that?!?!?!? I LOVE YOU Derek Jeter/Jim Leyritz/Tino/Aaron Boone!!!! OH MY GOD! Life RULES!"

Such a difference. Sigh.

My Second Weekend Without the Yanks. Sigh.

Thank you, Joel Sherman, for noting that Roger Clemens is one of the most annoyingly inconsistent pitchers in post-season history. And he even fails to note the most frustrating game in my opinion, the one where I wanted to jump through the TV and throttle him, Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS...

So yesterday I made myself nice and busy to forget the fact that Tonya and I should have been at Game 1 of the World Series last night had the Yanks made it. After a freezing-ass morning/afternoon at the Hunt -- where Rick provided us with lots of goodies (and where I think I ate an entire tray of Carolyn's brownies), where Far Hills cops proved they are WAY awesomer than Hoboken cops, and where I learned that Hoboken does not have the market cornered on obnoxious drunk people, especially after one really crass guy who thinks he's god's gift gets off the train home at Summit, where hopefully the ground opened up and swallowed him whole, preventing him from being an ass to this girl he was dating, like he said he was going to do -- it was off to Colette and Marjorie's karaoke birthday party in the city, where the song selection makes me eat my heart out and realize I have lots of collecting to do before the next Hoboken Idol. Like, I don't have Creep by Radiohead, which provided an awesomely touching moment when Dexter and Vicki are crooning it and they get to the line "You're so f***ing special" (yeah, I guess karaoke makers don't like putting in full-on curse words or something) and they look at each other and Vicki's all "Aww, you're special, honey" and Dexter's like "I love your special ass" and then they continue on with the song. And apparently there's a new very fashionable yet dangerous neighborhood in Brooklyn because when there's a group sing to "You May Be Right" by Billy Joel, the lyrics pop up "I walked through Bedford Style alone..." Which makes me wonder if people from far-reaches of the country who don't know what Bedford/Sty is will forever think there is a place in the U.S. known as Bedford Style, and you may be considered crazy for walking through there by your lonesome.

Later, we ended up at a bar that had this really bizarre hunting arcade game set up, so Dexter decides he needs to try his hand at shooting deer and elk. Just as he's taken the gun in his hand and is trying to blow away anything with antlers in sight, the familiar strains of Michael Bolton's "How Can We Be Lovers?" starts blaring through the bar - when they'd been playing your typical classic rock/bar fare up until that point. I can safely say that 1) I never thought I'd see Dexter take up a gun to kill big game and 2) I'd ever hear Michael Bolton IN A BAR.

Weirdly awesome day/night all around...

Friday, October 21, 2005

Because When Was the Last Time Instant Replay Got Death Threats?

From an AP story about the idea of Instant Replay in baseball

Arguing about blown calls, like bonehead plays by hitters or fielders, is what makes the games interesting long after they’re over. Jeffery Maier leaning over the wall in Yankee Stadium is as much as part of baseball lore as the grounder that skittered between Bill Buckner’s legs, no matter how much cleaner the outcomes would have been if both were granted a do-over.

Spoken like a fan who's never had to endure a bad, BAD call go against his team in an important situation where the game is on the line. Actually, I STILL cringe about Jeffrey Maier, and that helped the Yanks. And I don't like arguing about blown calls -- I'd prefer they be correct and have the game be won honestly than under the guise of a bad call and "well, that's just the way it is in baseball."

I'm not for Instant Replay during the regular season. And I'm not for it to argue balls and strikes/safe or out at a base in the post season. But there is just too much on the line in the post season to let "purity of the game" outweigh doing what is right. And this is coming from a "purist", people, so don't think I like this idea just because I think the game needs to be more "modern" or whatever it is "modernists" feel. I think if a home run looks like a home run, but it's not (i.e., it went foul or a fan touched it), there needs to be a replay; a guy is called out for running out of the baseline, but had to in order to get to the base BECAUSE THE FIRST BASEMAN GAVE HIM NO CHOICE BECAUSE HE'S BLOCKING THE DAMN BAG LIKE HE'S A GOALIE, you need to see a replay. There isn't really much I'd say use the Replay for, but there are times when an ump can make or break a game -- and last time I checked that's not what should net you a win or a loss when a title is on the line.

Also, I'd like for the baseball rule book to be more adhered to during the post season. No more of this "He's in/out of the baseline" crap only when the umpires remember it. You either call it for both teams at all times or you don't. Like, have an umpiring watchdog on-hand at all games to ensure the same rules apply to both teams. Because I know the umpires are human and have to make snap decisions, but sometimes their train of thought is just a little too bizarre for me to understand and I could use some help -- and I don't mean having Fox show the replay one bazillion times while McCarver and Buck yammering on as they try to figure our what just happened...

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Spare Me

Something occurred to me this morning when I saw the Astros celebrating on the ESPN front page: I don't want to hear it anymore that the Yankees are bad for baseball. 1) Because the TV ratings are always significantly higher when the Yanks are involved (even more so when it's Yanks/Red Sox) so even if people are rooting against them, the team is still getting people interested in the game to some degree where other teams are not 2) They are the biggest road draw in the sport and my main point 3) Since 2001 the Yanks have made the Series twice, and EIGHT other teams have had a piece of the World Series pie. And when it's all said and done this season, we will have had five different World Series winners in five years -- so how have the Yankees hurt baseball if so many teams can make it that far and win the whole thing? Especially since most of this Yankees-are-bad-for-baseball crap started after 2001?

So, seriously, whiny fans and writers. Shut up.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Some Girls Collect Shoes. I Collect Crushes on Younger Men.

Damn The N! First they go and get me hooked on Degrassi: The Next Generation and I find myself all disturbed when I'm attracted to an 18-year-old boy, which then opens the floodgates for my incomprehensible crush on A-Fed and then my illegal (in baseball fan terms, anyway) attraction to Zack Greinke. Well, now the network goes and gets me sucked into their latest Canadian teen show offering, Instant Star, and voila! I give you, Kristopher Turner:


A-freaking-dorable. And I don't have to feel too wigged out because apparently he's 25 in real life and three years younger is MUCH better than 10. But Jesus, why don't they make these dudes in my age? Or at the very least in my zip code?

Joe Somebody


LOL. I love that Joe kind of had the upperhand in all this. The AP story yesterday said something to the effect that Joe said the tone in which George talked to him would help him in his decision. I can only hope Joe spouted off about Tampa butting the hell out next season, and convincing George to do all he could to keep Cashman. George may be crazy, but we know he's not stupid.

Also, I know there are those in Internetland that feel Joe should be out, but ask yourself this: Would the Yanks have been so controlled in their "zooness" had someone else been managing this season? The fact that they only had one minor "outburst" (from Shef, and that was a mountain made out of a mole hill by the Post) is awesome to me, and the fact that when the Yanks headed to Chicago over the summer amidst the "OMG George totally hates Joe right now" talk and the players actually got together for a lunch to discuss how they actually, you know, need to play better to save Joe's job (or as Tino put it, they'd be sickend if Joe lost his job for something that was completely their fault) speaks volumes to me. And I don't remember a Yankee manager in my lifetime who got so much praise from his players upon clinching a playoff spot.

I'm telling you -- Joe Torre's the glue that holds this team together. And you WILL miss him when he's gone.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

My Astro-nomical New Hate

Hee. I went to bed last night thinking the Astros were going to win the pennant. I woke up this morning, planning a rant on how it should be harder for a wild card team to make the playoffs (because look how many have made it to the WS each year and won, which makes me think it's too easy for a team to coast into the playoffs and then turn on the jets, which, yeah, that's good for baseball or whatever it is Selig likes to say when patting himself on the back), and then I log onto and there is Albert Pujols giving a cold, hard, stare to his home run. Just...hee.

It's amazing. I used to kind of like the Astros because I loved Jeff Bagwell in the 1990s. But now? Not so much. They've become my team to hate this playoffs, because 1) I don't get what it is the announcers and sportswriters find so god damn awesome about them. You'd think they'd invented the wheel the way the "experts" gush 2)Said gushing usually comes in the form of their "superior" starting pitching, which means Roger Clemens, who they just LOVE to wax poetic over and his "awesome" playoff performing self. People, there was never a player I wanted to murder more than Roger on October 16, 2003. I guess we have him to thank for Aaron Boone's date with Destiny, but man, talk about doing your best to get your team out of it early. 3)The fucking towels that the Houston fans wave. My god, between that and people just stand up and clap their hands anymore? Is clapping just so 20th century or something? 4) Andy Pettitte -- I find it hard to say anything against him except...high socks? You could've done that in the Bronx, so don't give me the Yankee Uniform Code crap. So now you try to be all retro with...the Astros? Who didn't even exist when high socks were all the rage? 5)Did I mention the vomit-inducing gushing by the media?

So yeah, I hope they lose. Nyah.

Sunday, October 16, 2005

Third Baseman for the Yankees: KB's Nightmare Profession

After being angry at A-Rod for about all of 20 minutes at the end of Game 5 (in which I hurled his little A-Rod Basil marker behind the television...hey, it did a lot less damage than throwing the remote would have) I realized that I was being an idiot -- almost the entire team, save Mo and Cano, are to blame for being home right now. And over the last few days I find it VERY interesting that almost every fan review I read is forgiving as all hell of A-Rod, while reporters have pretty much crucified him and his poorly "all-time" perfoming playoff playing self, forgetting completely about his performance in last season's ALDS. How convenient for them and the papers they need to sell.

Alex at Bronx Banter
put it very nicely, and notice the fan concurrence. The same thing over at Replacement Level. You will find very few fans who are actually putting the entirety of the blame on A-Rod -- and in these comments you will find some really awesome examples of Yankee Hall-of-Famers who also "choked" in the playoffs. Many times. In big situations. And no one would have the balls to call those guys choke artists or whatever the adjective of the day is in Sportswriterland.

Anyway, I find it funny that the people who pay to watch the man swing the bat and who are fans just for the love of it are the ones being most forgiving in this. The people who are paid to watch the game? Not so much. I think I'd trust a fan's assessment more, being that we were the ones who had a hell of a lot more invested in this and got our hearts broken. These are the same fans I saw ranting and raving at every poor move made by the Yanks this season too, so it's not like they're blinded by love or something.

I used to think I would never want to be a doctor because the whole responsibility for others' lives thing is scary to me. But now I realize I would not want to be Alex Rodriguez or any player of his ilk, as you are perpetually damned if you do, damned if you don't. Making lots of money, yes. But for all the blame that gets hurled your way, and mostly because of pieces of crap writing that are poorly thought out...well, all the money in the world isn't worth that to me.

Friday, October 14, 2005

Andy Peanuts

We were just talking about Andy Pettitte at work, and how he pulls his hat down and all you see are his eyes over the glove like so:


Iit reminded me that I always used to say he looked like Snoopy doing his vulture imitation, and now that I'm finally out of the I-miss-Andy mourning period, I don't feel bad about blogging the comparison:

Picture 1vulture

I mean, come on. Totally separated at birth.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

OMG, People

Picture 1

Get over it. She ain't even all that....

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Well Said

Picture 2

Me too, Freddy. Me too.

(and I only visited the Daily News site as a force of habit -- saw this picture then hightailed it out of there. But I hear Lupicass is lecturing us on why the Yanks lost. Someone tell him to shut up for me, will ya?)

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

A Call to Blog Arms

Hey kids. This is your Captain speaking. I want y'all to go over to my good buddy Erica's blog and check out just how witty and smart this kid is. She's 22 and moved here last year from her Georgia -- so yeah, she's a Braves fan. And I'm cool with that, so you know she has to be OK. Also, she's adopted the Yanks as her New York team, which is just awesome considering what the Yanks did to her heart as a teenaged Braves fan, and while some may think that makes her a front-runner, I say that makes her da bomb.

And please leave a nice comment on this post for the jackwad who decided that she's using her grandmother's current illness as a cover for being bummed out about the Yanks and Braves losing. Because Erica is one of the sweetest, most genuine people I know, and this dude's kneecaps should be busted for even suggesting such a crass and cruel thing...telling him off via blog is the next best thing, and lots of y'all have sharper tongues than I do...

Someone Paint His Portrait on Velvet

Picture 2TheSadClown2

See! He really is a Sad Clown!!

Cushioning the Blow

Man, everyone's being so nice to me today! I mean, Mona the Met fan actually brought in cookies to cheer me up, though she was quick to add it was for me and not the Yankees; Jason offered me a hug anytime I need one (hey, where is that whiskey now?); Rana has totally got my back against anti-Yankeeness offering much sympathy, even though she's a Mets sympathizer and her brother would kill her for cheering the Yanks on.

A Chipotle lunch with birthday girl Tonya (yeah, I know, happy freaking birthday, right?) should ease the pain a little more, especially if a table full of hot guys will sit next to us.

Post-season grieving is a step by step process. Maybe by Christmas I'll be able to not want kick something/burst into tears over it...

Monday, October 10, 2005

167 Games for...Nothing

There's nothing I can say that probably hasn't already been said and hasn't already been felt by all of you.

So we'll just leave it at that.

Sleep is Overrated

Must. Stop. Yawning. But it's a good tired, absolutely.

Note's from last night's affair, which gave us some very fine mist, but nothing resembling rain. Rock on!

-- The cover of the scorecard/program is something to behold: Mo sitting amongst a bunch of jack-o-lanterns, and said jack-o-lanterns have interlocking NY eyes. Somewhat creepy and utterly hilarious at the same time.

-- I don't think I've ever heard a crowd so loud at the Stadium. Even Tonya said that last year's ALDS Game 2 wasn't nearly as electric, and that game was nuts. You could actually feel the crowd willing the hits in the 7th (I mean, how else do you explain Ruben Sierra getting of the schnide with an extremely clutch hit?) and Mo's outs in the 8th and 9th, if that's possible. The cement floor below was us vibrating, like a long-ass train was rumbling through the Stadium in the 8th and 9th -- probably the result of people stomping their feet in antsy fashion.

-- We also dubbed our area "The Chipotle" section, as there were numerous hunky young gents hanging around. And awesoemely enough, they weren't the ones bailing in the 7th inning (like, you've got to be kidding me, people).

-- Chacon gets the hook and this swell of groaning rises up through the stadium. The dudes in our section, your "typical" New Yorkers, with loud voices and New Yawk accents were all "What the fuck?" "There goes the game!" "I can manage this team better, Joe!" and then compound that with the announcement that Al Leiter was being brought in and I thought these guys were going to fall down and start having convulsions or something, such was their wrath. I felt my stomach sink a bit too when Tenth Avenue Freeze Out started blaring over the PA, but then I noticed something: Al's left-handed. I mean, I already knew that, but it totally clicks when I see that Erstad is left-handed as well. The simplest of baseball fundamentals suddenly calmed me. "He's playing the percentages" I muttered amidst the "Oh Happy Dagger"-ness going on around Tonya and me. And then Al induces the double play and I scream "And that's why he brought Al Leiter in, bitches!" I still have no idea where that came from, but the dudes were all too busy freaking out in loud jubilation to hear me.

-- The Journal got lots of respect. When Cano hustled out his base hit in the 7th, and then Posada walks, the dude sitting next to me goes "That's the turning point of the game, you know — Cano hustling out that hit. Write that down." I told him I would after the game, as I didn't want to jinx it. When they completed the rally, the dudes behind me were like "Now you've got something to write about! You better be getting this all down!" Oh, you don't know the half of it...

-- The Bernie: Oh. My. Lord. Talk about a lovefest. In the 9th, despite the close, intensity of the game, my section (and the rest of the crowd) was screaming "Ber-nie Will-iams!" as Mo's making his pitches. I was screaming extra loud (as were the people around me) because I wanted to be sure the home viewing audience knew how much he's meant to us. I had to multitask by chanting my ass off while keeping my eye on Mo and trying not to throw up. It was awesome.

Caliiiiifooooornyaaaa, Caliiiiifooooornyaaaa, Here We Cooooooome

Just a short post because I have to be at work at 7 a.m.:

Best. Crowd. Ever. Or at least at a game I've been too. Our section was full of "drama queens" as Tonya called these middle-aged "oh my heart, it's Al Leiter. It's the big one, Elizabeth, I'm comin' to meet you" men, but damn if they didn't show their love when the time came. In the top of the 9th, the place was so jazzed, I thought if the Angels somehow tied it up the crowd would either simultaneously burst into tears or spontaneously combust. And the level of loudness that came in the 9th was just insane. As was the level glee when exiting the game.

A great night. An even greater win. And no spankings involved. It makes getting up early a whole lot easier.

Sunday, October 09, 2005

Live from the ALDS

Far Be It From Me To Stick Up For Braves Fans (except Erica)...

...but when I see a Houston fan holding up a sign that says "Stop the Chop" and they are surrounded by people waving a rally towel...well, you kind of lose the right to insult another fan bases' means of showing support.

And ESPN's Astro love is probably the grossest thing I've seen since they were giving the Sux verbal blowjobs in 2003. That and the fact that they seem to show the Cardinals (the team who was so freaking far ahead of them IN THE SAME DIVISION) no love is disgusting to me. And I don't even WATCH the National League...

The Daily Spews

As much as I wanted that last post to be my lingering thought until after Game 4, The Daily News has stoked my Yankee fan/former journalism student/someone who works in the industry ire once more, and therefore I must post about it.

Check out this backpage:


Now, if you didn't read the story, you'd think it was Derek Jeter leading some kind of Yankee whining and crying brigade because Game 4 is starting — ridonculously — at 8 p.m. today. But when you read the news story, all you hear is that it was "Yankee sources" and "The Bombers" that lodged a complaint over it, not one Yankee player mentioned. So I'm inclined to believe it was a front office decision to "cry in the rain" over this, and not the Captain of the team, which the backpage wants us to believe. But why would the Daily News do something like that? Well, because their fair and balanced Lupicass has a column telling the Yanks to stop crying and play. Which means either the writers heard actual players complaining and just decided (for some very strange reason) not to mention that in the story, or Lupicass is writing this just so he can get his pissy Yankee-hating rocks off for another day*. Because he's a fucking one-note hack. But that's not my point today.

Talk about slow-newsday mindset. Why the hell is it so terrible that the Yankee organization would rather play a game 5 tomorrow on a few more hours of sleep, considering more possible rain delays tonight, a 3000 mile trek after and time difference is involved? I mean, even Joel freaking Sherman thinks this is fucked up and that MLB should be taken to task for bowing down to Fox's selfishness by not starting the game at 4. And his paper is owned by the same dickheads that own Fox.

But the Daily News needed something to provoke readers' interest, and decided to make it look like the golden boy of the city (and his fellow players) we being big crybaby millionaires or something when they weren't -- and even if they were, would have every right to bitch Fox/MLB out for it. Because when did that god-awful broadcast network ever do anything that wasn't stupid or agitating? And when did Bud Selig ever do something that was truly for the good of the game? Right.

So yes, Daily News, I am done with you. Again. I understand the need for hype to sell a publication. What I can't tolerate is creating a false hype. And you've done that more times than not over the course of this season and that's more times than my truth-in-journalism loving self can take.

*shut up, Lupicass

Saturday, October 08, 2005

You Want Beaster? I'll Give You Beaster.

I'm going to that game tomorrow. I'm going to sit out there in foul weather knowing full well you could get your asses booted. But this time, I'm not going to be so forgivin. Because this time it's not Curt fucking Schilling and his ankle stigmata and this time, I'm not fighting fever-induced delirium. Because so help me if I sit through another rainy ass game only to see y'all roll over and die again...forget spanking-via-blog. I will climb down from the upperdeck, grab y'all by the scruff of your neck and smack your asses till you see stars. And I promise, you won't like it.

Oh, yeah, and kindly quit making me look stupid for actually having faith in all of you.


Friday, October 07, 2005

Here Comes That Rainy Day Feeling Again

Picture 1

How they're going to get tonight's and tomorrow's games in is beyond me. My guess is they play through the downpours for at least one of them, and I'd bet my poncho that it's the game Tonya and I have tickets for. Not that sitting out and getting soaked while the Yanks get rained on is anything new to us...

Thursday, October 06, 2005


From Today's Daily News:
What do you think was the biggest reason the Yanks lost Game 2

Lack of timely hitting

Too many errors

Torre left Wang in too long

Gee, I didn't realize that giving runs away was worse than, like, not being able to score for shit when it's your turn at bat. Those first two should be divided 50/50, folks. The errors got the Angels back in it, but the entire lineup not taking advantage of a not-so-great Lackey is equally to blame for this.

And this from that Fuckwad Dan Shanoff:

The, um, "MVP's" error in the 6th combined with C-M Wang's E-1 in the 7th to let the Angels rally to beat the Yankees, 5-3, to earn a home split.

Wait: Weren't A-Rod-for-MVP partisans touting the guy's defense as one key reason he's more valuable than Ortiz? Hey, at least Ortiz isn't in a position to bungle away runs.

You're kidding me, right? The man makes one atrocius, costly-as-all-hell error all season, but apprently we've all been deluding ourselves and he sucks defensively? I didn't realize that MVP candidates weren't allowed to suck on Ortiz not having one RBI in the Sux's series so far. I thought he was their go-to guy and carried them when their pitching couldn't come through?

Yeah, dickhead, you might want to find something else to hide your Yankee hating boner behind...

And You Were Expecting....?

You know, I was going to blow my stack,, it won't solve anything. You can read all the gloom-and-doom columnists and message boards tomorrow for that.

We'll get 'em Friday.

Oh, and MLB/ESPN/Fox? Kindly work it out so that this 10 p,m. bullshit doesn't happen again. I'd actually embrace an afternoon game over being up past 1 a.m. for a game that doesn't extend past 9 innings.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

You Observe A Lot By Watching

So last night, I made some observations while checking out the game with Tonya, Julianna and my blog peeps, including Darth Marc, Paul Katcher, and fellow Lupicass hater Yan. And I survived watching a game in public without wanting to kill someone. That's a good thing. Anyway...

-- Robinson Cano's childhood hero was...Bernie Williams. Now you're making ME feel old, Sad Clown.

-- Nice to see the Yanks get Moose some run support in Game 1 of an ALDS. The previous two years he'd opened and pitched pretty damn well, only for his offense to get ONE RUN across the board, and hand him the defeat both times.

-- What happened to Scooter? Did Fox realize that the kiddies are in bed by the time the game starts, and adults don't really appreciate a talking baseball?

-- I know Bubba's got better wheels than Bernie, and I trust him whole-heartedly defensively, but damn if he doesn't create a hole in the bottom of the lineup. That, and Jorge swinging at every goddamn first pitch that comes his way, putting himself in the hole or just getting himself out way too quickly.

-- California fans: You gotta be kidding me with the fucking beachballs during the game. What is this, high school graduation? And I thought The Wave was bad...

-- A-Rod has body fat? Apparently that's where the ball got him, or so he says.

-- I've figured out how Al Leiter can get people out! When he came in the game last night, the collective groan went up around the bar, myself included. But then when he started pitching, I started sending him the "Jersey Vibes", which means uttering the names of famous Jerseyans as he's pitching, hoping the positivity reaches Al on the mound. And what happened? He got his outs! Imagine if we all sent out the Jersey Vibes -- the possibilities are endless.

Because a Win is a Win, No Matter Where You Play the Game

To all those wondering why in the name of god's green earth Joe Torre wouldn't start Mussina on Sunday:

Picture 2

That's why.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

I've Been Tagged

I've been tagged by Yankeebob! And since I'm a good Captain and it's the post season, I will play along.

Ten Years Ago: October 1995
I was a freshman in college and one of only two Yankee fans on my floor (sophomore year, half my building was Yankee fans, so it more than made up for it). It was the Yanks' first trip to the playoffs and when they lost, I was crushed. Because I was all "who knows when this will happen again?" Oh, 10-years-ago self, you are in for a huge suprise...

Five Years Ago: October 2000
I'd just started working at Weekly. I didn't really know Tonya then, Ken hadn't started there yet, and I'd only heard Steph's name floated around every now and then. I was living in Astoria and Hollis was my awesome neighbor. I miss our lame-to-the-world, but-fine-by-us Saturday nights and Dunkin' Donuts and Trading Spaces Sundays. And the really good Italian restaurant.

One Year Ago: October 2004
I was about to get disappointed hardcore by the Yankees. And that sucked.

Yesterday: Monday
Went to work, which was quiet enough for Jason and I to ponder why it is people decided you sit with your thumb up your ass and not another finger. Tonya and I hit the Yankee Rally in Bryant Park and I got all freaking misty when everyone started cheering Freddy the Fan and his Fry Pan (and we got free Rally Monday washcloths that say World Series 2005 on them. So if it jinxes the Yanks, I'm burning it). Also had a Monday night dinner with the crew.

Five Songs I Know All The Words To:
(OK, I know lots of words to lots of songs, so I'm just going to go with songs that have been stuck in my head the last few day)
Rock and Roll, Led Zeppelin
Happier Than the Morning Sun, Stevie Wonder
I'm Your Captain (heh heh), Grand Funk Railroad
If I Had You, Frank Sinatra
I Guess the Lord Must Be in New York City, Harry Nilsson

Five Snacks:
Beard Papa's Cream Puffs (if you have not tried these yet and one of their establishments is available in your neighborhood GO NOW.)
Melissa's snickerdoodle pie
Cadbury Mini Eggs
Subway chocolate-chip cookies
Hot popcorn

Five things I'd do with 100 million dollars:
Have A-Fed come sing for me live every time I clean.
Get in those Mayor's seats at Yankee Stadium.
Buy The Chicken an extensive wardrobe.
Get my bathroom floor heated and a towel warmer for the winter months.
Never have a bad hair day again.

Five places I'd run away to:
My closet (it's a walk-in. I run in here everytime the Yanks get in trouble. It's a safe haven)
Somewhere in the Caribbean where I won't be kidnapped and sold into slave labor, like my mom thinks will happen if I go there.
Chipotle, because there are always hot guys there and the food is good.
Where ever the Yanks are playing that day.
Fantasy Island

Five things I would never wear:
The extremely scarly looking "B" Sux logo necklace Tonya and I spied on some woman at the last street fair.
Shoes I can't walk in
The hideous frumpy skirts out there nowadays
Bloody socks
My Yankee hat in an antagonistic way

Five Favorite TV Shows
Lost -- the show that gives me the creeps and I love it for that
Gilmore Girls -- the show that gives me faith that good TV writers still exist
Veronica Mars -- Ditto above
American Idol -- The show that lets me get in touch with my cheesy side
Kids on Deck -- The show that lets the Yankees let their guard down and actually behave like, say, your next door neighbor, than some big baseall star.

Five greatest joys
Anything and everything having to do with the Yankees
The awesome people I work with (I seriously laugh, and hard, at least twice a day)
The view from Hoboken
Waking up at your normal work time and realizing it's Saturday.
Being in a zone while writing

Five favorite toys:
My iPod
My laptop
The light-up Yankee pen I got at a game this year
Um, I need to get more toys...

Current Reads:
Hoot by Carl Hiaasen
The Kitchen God's Wife, Amy Tan
My workload

Five People I am tagging to do this: Uh, OK, since it's the post season, I'm pointing the finger at anyone who's a Yankee fan. And there's more than definitely five of you...

Monday, October 03, 2005


Oh my god, you guys, Lupicass is TOO funny. Today he's whining that the Yanks should've treated yesterday like Game 1 of the post season, saying Moose should've started yesterday and not Wright and that home field advantage is like the most important thing right now or something. But this sentence in which he describe's Joe Torre's Yankees...

His team has been the best team in baseball for the last month, and maybe much longer than that.


Yeah! Seriously! The dude who was laughing at the prospect of the Yanks dropping more games to the Devil Rays three weeks ago, pretty much writing them off then, has suddenly decided they were THE BEST TEAM IN BASEBALL LAST MONTH. And also adds they may have been the best for LONGER THAN THAT.

Funny, you'd never know he thought that by all the bile he was spewing this season.

Also, this?:

The White Sox have more wins than the Angels. The Angels seem to set up much better for a short series, against the Yankees or anybody else, especially with that bullpen of theirs. So the wild card Red Sox and their 95 wins go to Chicago and the division champion Yankees go to Anaheim with their 95 wins to play the Angels. Maybe we will have a better idea after the first two games in both those places who really won the East. And how much trouble the Yankees made for themselves in the last game of the regular season.

Um, even had they won yesterday, they'd STILL BE PLAYING the Angels. And if they're so much set up better for a short series, I'm guessing it doesn't matter where they play, right Lupicass? Or maybe you're saying the Yanks should've just relaxed the whole weekend and shot for the Wild Card? So confused. So not surprised coming from this dumbass.

And people, I know home-field advantage is an advantage, but come on. They had that advantage several times in the past five years and a whole lotta good it did them -- see against these same Angels in 2002. I'm not saying it doesn't help, but there's a hell of a lot more to it than when you get your last licks and who's fans are behind you. When the shit comes down, a well-executed and solid game from both your pitching and hitting, and oh yeah, doing your best to dominate the opponent will matter A LOT more than where the game is played. If the good times we've seen with this team over the years in the postseason has taught me anything it's that.

Besides, had it shaken out that the Yanks had the home-field, Tonya and I would've had to figure out a way to cut work on Wednesday to go to Game 2. Note the ridiculous start time on Wednesday night of 10 p.m. -- that means the Yanks probably would've been the 1 or 4 p.m. game since the Braves/Astros are the 7 p.m. So it's one less thing I have to worry about this week, and that's a good thing.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

To My Blogger Buds in the NYC Area:

So, for anyone who's interested, I'm in the process of reserving a few tables at Blondie's on the Upper West Side for the sole purpose of a Blogger Bud Hangout during Tuesday night's game. This is huge for me because I HATE watching playoff games in public, but I also think it would be way cool for those of us who've been trading Yankee comments via our sites all year long to, like, do it in person for an evening. I don't have the tables yet (called to reserve, but they were way busy with the football crowd so I'm calling back later), but let me know in the comments section if you'd like to join and help cheer the Yanks on.

UPDATE: I got a table for 7:30. Tonya and Julianna of Season Ticket Crew fame will be there, looks like Paul Katcher will be there, I'm guessing Darth Marc could be in the vicinity, June's a maybe...well, we'll see tomorrow night!


The Yankees haven't lost the last game of the season since...2000. And the last time they didn't have homefield advantage in the ALDS was...2000.

That's all I'm saying about that.

Yankee Scrapblog

Mike Vaccaro, making me all teary:

Astonishingly, there are still some who give you a blank stare when you refer to Torre by his rightful title: greatest Yankee skipper of them all. The sycophants at the Tampa Hunt & Fish Club, for starters. Fans who will bellow endlessly about how he "overuses" Mariano Rivera. Yankee haters who love to point out Torre's 286-420 record with the Mets a lifetime ago, as if that is even remotely relevant to Torre's tenure with the Yankees.

Here's a question, then: Where would the Yankees be, and where would the Red Sox be, if Torre and Terry Francona switched jobs? Who would have done a better job this year? Bobby Cox? Tony LaRussa? Miller Huggins? Joe McCarthy?

We'll never know. We'll never have to. In a season when the Yankees had every reason to skip October for the first time ever, they instead have more baseball awaiting them. And they have the best manager in Yankees history to thank for that.

Phil Mushnik getting all cranky over yesterday's picture-in-picture crapfest:

By now we should come to expect — if not accept — the ridiculous. We should know that on the day of the big game we’re going to see everything except what was advertised, everything except the big game.

Love that the Daily News can poke fun at itself on the front page for all it's Yankee freak-outs over the past season (but they certainly gave this blog a lot of retalitory material, now didn't they?):


And Moooooooooooo:

"They say things to me, but it's respectful," Rivera said. "They yell, but they yell nice things."

Nice things? What kind of nice things?

"They tell me," Rivera said, "I need to come and play for them."

"I would never pitch for Boston," Rivera said. "With all due respect, it's a great organization. But with the fighting and playing we've done, I couldn't do it. This is my team."

And color me surprised, a quite lovely column from today. Probably my favorite line?:

You couldn't swing a bottle of Korbel brut without hitting a Yankee who wasn't having an Oprah moment.

Ain't that the truth.

Saturday, October 01, 2005

Always Listen to Your Mother

Yo, my mom totally called it.:

They’re going to be really good. Not in the beginning, but I’d say by Summertime they’ll take off.

And perhaps Tino's return sparked the 4 million plus fans this year because according to my mom, he was supposed to bring out the women "in droves." Hmmm....

And because I like pictures of celebratory man love and giddyness:

God, these guys just SO hate each other.

If nothing else, the Yankees could win "Team with dudes you most want to hug" award.

Squeeee! Shake it Mo, shake it!


I suck at math. This I know. And I suck at figuring out how-we-get-into-the-playoffs scenarios. So it wasn't until midway through today's game that I found out that if the Yanks win and Indians lose, they are guaranteed to win the AL East. Tonya told me this because she was watching the game in English and dealing with Buck and McCarver (who were talking about the scenarios), while I was making friends with the SAP guys. And it was right about that time my hands began to shake and I began talking to myself and probably freaking out my roommates slightly (though I'm convinced that we all wore Yankee shirts today helped something). It's probably a good thing I didn't figure this out till later becuase I wouldn't have gotten through the morning keeping my stomach in check.



Let's recount the awesomeness of this game, shall we?

-- RanJo being RanJo, and giving up his usual eye-rolling homer, but bouncing back and being the the good Randy. And then not shutting up in the post-game interview, gushing about how great the team is. I was all "Man, The Big Member's a talky drunk!" and then Bobby Murcer re-iterated that...leaving out the drunk part of course.

-- A-Rod bobbling the second out of the 9th, but holding on for that sucker as if his life depended on it. And going 4-5. And dumping champagne on Tino's head and the ensuing giddy man hug.

-- Shef's monstorous homer and sliding catch, and then beaming in the post-game interview next to Joe Torre.

-- Mariano closing it out, in Fenway, where six months ago he good naturedly tipped his cap to the sarcastic cheers coming his way.


-- Joe Torre, crying in the postgame interview and as always, gets me all crazy verklempt. But moreso this year because I know his haters are growing, yet the players all sang his praises today. And when he found that out, it got him all emotional. I love this man. If you don't, well, that's your problem.

--And fuck all this after their sucky start, the detractors sharpening their knives, lots of injuries, yet slowly chipping away, detractors pretty much stabbing them with their knives, still chipping away, detractors poo-pooing them, and then they overtake Boston for the AL East title. The detractors will be back starting Tuesday, but for now, they can't say a freaking word.

We're going to the playoffs, kids. Hear that Lupicass?! WE'RE GOING TO THE MOTHER FUCKING PLAYOFFS!!!!

Oh yeah, and.... And from this blog, Aug. 18, 2005

From today's Daily Quickie:

"After the Yankees' dynastic decade, it's so thrilling to write them off."

Fuck off, Dan Shanoff. And may this come back to bite you so hard in the ass that you have to shit out of your mouth for the rest of your life.

It's not over yet, but, Dan, maybe you should stock up on the TP.


Good fucking lord, Fox, if I wanted to watch the Indians/White Sox, I'D MOVE TO THE MIDWEST. I know this is a nationally televised game and all, but those of us in New York and New England might, like, rather have OUR game be the focal point, ya know? It's not like this game is less important than that one or something. I thought this was the whole point to regionalized coverage, but apparently I'm missing something. Or maybe you are, thinking that YANKEES/RED SOX is such a nothing thing to us in the Northeast that it deems a tiny box on the fucking screen.

Y'all should've seen my aggravation grow at this during the game. First, we get to see a White Sox fly-out that results in...nothing. Then a Cleveland hit that gets the Indians...nothing. All the while missing what's going on in Boston. I started getting so irate at this point, I actually CALLED Tonya, rather than text (we only speak if something huge happens). Then they did that whole big box on their game and the teeny tiny one for us, and I called my dad because if he's miffed, I know I'm not over-reacting, and the first thing he says is "Yeah, I'd kinda like to be able to see the game." So after missing a nice Sheff catch, I get the Fox number from Tonya and I leave the snottiest message known to man. I seriously hope their answering machine explodes from all the hate people left. And if it annoyed you and you haven't done so yet, fire away: 310-369-9111.

And don't forget to leave a little aside to Joe Buck that a team shouldn't have to CAMPAIGN to get its player the MVP. Are you fucking kidding me? When did the MVP become the equivilent of student body president? I swear, the next thing I expect is for Ortiz to be all "vote for me and all your wildest dreams will come true"...

Follow the Leader

For the past two days, the YES/UPN 9 cameras have caught Derek Jeter laughing and looking loose during pretty tense situations. And after he hit the home run last night, all I have to say is this: Yankees, Follow Your Captain. Why does Jeter do so well when the gun's to their head? Because he turns it into something he delights in rather than something that freaks him the fuck out from all the pressure. I know players have their own mindsets that make them produce, but doesn't it seem in life that we tend to get things we work hard for but don't stress about, keeping in mind that if it's something you want, it's something that you should enjoy getting? I don't know how Jeets figured that out so young, but there you go.

I know they have the pressure of an entire city, evil sportswriters who need spiting and a somewhat-pyschotic owner on their backs right now, but then again we all can't go out and play these games for them...because they are better than us at it. That is why they are there and we aren't. That shouldn't be cause for pressure; it should be cause for "Fuck yeah, let's work it, baby" and then enjoy the ride it takes you on.

So yeah, you better work Yanks.

Sashay. Shantay.