*The sheer number of intense sportage that went on this weekend.
*The REAPPEARANCE OF THE ALL POWERFUL VEGETABLE MOJO on Wednesday night. May it continue on its path of glory tonight.
*The Raiders scoring a TD in the first MINUTE of the FIRST FOOTBALL GAME OF THE YEAR (wooo!) Though the Pats pulled it out, the former act is something that should never happen again. In any football game. Unless the Pats are doing it against someone else.
*My joy at the first Rodney Harrison hit of the year. And of course, the first Brady TD pass of the year. And they now shine beatifically down on me from my Wall of Sports.
*Friday night's game. I feel betrayed, Boomer. I offered you beer. Not just beer. Newcastle Brown Ale. And we drank beer in your honor. And then I guess you decided you were not worthy of beer. So you proceeded to suck more than anything that has ever sucked before. (No one gets beer for that night.
*Saturday, and the return of The Curt. Not just Curt. He gets the use of the definite article for that performance. And while his pitcher got his groove on, Olerud channeled his inner Leif Ericsson, and went all Viking on the asses of the Yankees.
Ah, Olerud, I would make you a dragon ship, in which to hold your awesomeness, had I any skill at carpentry.
*How big and private and nice my new room is.
*How much our offense sucked on Sunday. I managed to miss it, thankfully, but reading the box score was bad enough. To paraphrase the great Harry Doyle from Major League: Zero runs on.....3 hits. That's all we got, three goddamn hits?!
Timmy, I love you, you're beautiful. Offense, I would not blame him one bit, if he took a weedwacker to you all. If you do that to String Bean tonight, I just might take one to you. Just when our starting pitching is finally getting its shit together is NOT the time to turn into limp noodles.
The Battle of The Flora, tonight, 7;07, due to Canadian weirdness. Be there, or be legumes.