My Mom's Computer is A Yankee Fan

Obviously. Because it chose to stop working right at the time that the Yankees pulled close, so that I could not exhort my team to do better.

I am writing this from the Reading Room at Firestone Library, so it will be short.

Red Sox:
STOP LOSING TO TEAMS AT .500 OR BELOW!I know you won the Tigers series, but losing a series to the Royals is just sad.

String Bean:
What happened to the All-Mighty Vegetable Mojo?! Squandering a 6 run lead is not worthy of the Mojo.

Boomer:
Thank you for fixing things yesterday. I, for one, will never mess with your cake.

Red Sox:
SWEEP! DEVIL RAYS! NOW!

Love,
Emma

PS: When we get our compy back, I will be able to tell all of you of our family forays into Trenton, for MINOR! LEAGUE! BASEBALL! Including funny errors, kamikaze foul balls, and the quietest grand slam I have ever seen in my life. Also, the sheer terror of the Cotton Eye Joe Dance.

Off to make some money....

Farewell the Bell

Dude.
I was joking. At least a little.
I mean, I have become intensely fond of Tony G. His glove is smooth, and he bats the body electric.
But it never managed to connect in the weird little synapses of my brain,that baseball rosters are a zero sum equation.
That because of the 'Nino's consistent and solid performance, there would be no space for the Bell.
Over the last months, his bat may have induced violence against furniture more than once.
And the routine of "walk-strikeout-strikout -double-strikeout-HOMERUN!" was mostly reduced to "walk -strikeout"
However, that doesn't mean I won't miss the Bell.
I still stand by what I said in one of the first posts on this blog, many moons ago:

Mark is an aquired taste, like...well, like Indian food. (Yes, that's a really bad analogy, I know.) But once he's won you over, you never really get over him. He's like a stray puppy dog that just sort of shows up one day, you start feeding it, it hangs around and before you know it, you can't imagine life without him.

It hasn't sunk in yet, and it probably won't for a while. But whether he's in Pawtucket, or somewhere else, I wish him well. I'll hear the clang of his Game 1 homer off the foul pole for the rest of my life, and I'll always be grateful.
***
As for the rest of the week, especially our bullpen, it can be dispensed with in one word:
AAAAAAAAAARGH!
I would indeed rather have Craig Hansen on the mound then Mike Remlinger. I would rather have a moldy stalk of asparagus on the mound then Mike Remlinger.

***
String Bean vs. Anti-Magic at 4:00 today. May the Vegetable Mojo continue to ride tall in the saddle.

The Vegetable Mojo Rides Again

Well, for 7 innings at least, besides a little bit of an implosion in the 8th. And can it be any coincidence that it comes with another reappearance of the cornrows? I think not.

Even though the final score belies it, it seemed, briefly, that last night's game would be a pitchers duel. String Bean and Rogers were dealing, everyone was paying attention to their hotdogs.

Gabey put a stop to that, though.
This was, I swear to God, my phone conversation around the 3rd inning:
*Gabe hits ball very very hard*
*ball bounces of TOP of Green Monster*
*umpires rule it a double*
*ring*
Mom(in MA): "Hi sweetie."
Emma:"The umpires need to be cut up in little pieces and fed to wolves."
Mom:"I know, dear."
(What can I say? I have a vivid imagination.)

One thing however, has blocked out much of my memory of this game:
ESPN, in a lull in the action, decides to show Keith Foulke in the bullpen,
with three of the managing staff watching him.
Me: "Oh, that's nice, Foulkie's moving well, throwing hard......hey, that guy's without a shirt....it must have been hot...
OH MY GOD, THAT'S SHIRTLESS TITO!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Fortunately, the shirtlessness of our manager almost, ALMOST glosses over the sheer suckiness of our bullpen, minus Manuelito. I look forward to seeing Little Manny for years to come.

The offense apparently intended to block out the memory of the top of the eigth, too. By the end of it, after Kevin Gryboski both HBP'ed and walked in a run, I pitied the Rangers. A little.

But not when the 'Nino hit a bases' clearing double. And the Campaign rumbles on towards fruition.....

El 'Nino And The Buckethead, Plus Other Interesting Creatures

Bwahaha.
The "Tony Graffanino for Starting Second Baseman" Campaign has proceeded according to plan.
3 for 3, 3 Run Homer, 3 R, SB
Apparently my boy has a sense of timing.
Along with a talent for kicking a little ass and taking a few names.
Yes, I know it was only 6 months ago I was extolling the virtues of the Bell in this space.
I am officially a Second Base Skank.
And loving it.

****
Apparently tonight the quantum state of Fenway's atoms moved slightly to the right, into Bizarro World.
Because you know it's Bizarro Night when El Cabesa De Bucket gets a Web Gem.
But there it was.
Though it was more "Trip and Fall Under The Ball" than "Swan Dive To The Grass", I must give him the proper cookies and praise.
God knows I ride him hard enough the rest of the time, I gotta shout it to the rooftops when he does something like that.

***
To the "Classy" Fans of The New York Yankees:
You remember the "Chris House Incident"?
You remember the subsequent "Yankee fans are naturally classier, Sox fans are cretins , blah de freakin blah" that came from the general direction of NYC?
Yeah, no more of that, ever.
Why not, you ask?
Well, one of your "classy" fans, tonight, WHACKED SCOTT PODSEDENIK UPSIDE THE HEAD WITH A CLOSED FIST.
Living here, I know enough Yankee fans that I respect that I won't paint the fandom with one brush. But this incident surely implodes any claim of innate superiority that more idiotic fans may have.
Chris House may have been an irretrievable moron. But when one of your "fans" does something like that, Yankee fans have no tenable position from which to talk about natural "class".

***
Mmmmmmm.....football. Only three weeks away.
I'm getting antsy for drafting my FIRST EVER fantasy team. The Marauding Llamas.
*wait for it*
"CUIDADO!!!!! LLLLLLAAAAMAAAS!"
I got warm fuzzies watching the Battle of Mediocrity billed as the Hall of Fame Game tonight.
Watching the decent Bears running back made me heartsick for the Tailback himself.
And most importantly, I have released Mr. Harrison from his closet condo in time for training camp.
Wouldn't want to interfere with preparations.
Preparations for what, you ask?
KNOCKING RANDY MOSS ON HIS ARROGANT ASS.
Delicious.

Hey You

Red Sox-

Because of my new job ( wooo!) I feel I have been remiss in my fanly duties this past week.

That ends now.

Praise and Cookies

The 8 Game Winning Streak - Very well done, boys, well done. The pitching was mostly there, and even when it wasn't, you guys were hitting crazy good, so it didn't matter.

Matty- You got back on the mound, said "Give me the ball", and that is all you had to do and say to please me. ( And apparently for Tek, too. Go buy him some nice gardening tools for Christmas.)

Tek- Well done man, well done. Now only 19 to go to catch Manny.

'Nino- I start, right here, right now, the "Graffanino for Starting Second Baseman" Campaign. 2 for 4's in every home and sparkling defense.
( And now I'll have to look out for Steve Brady's pro-Bellhorn guerillas.)

Rolled Up Newspapers of Shame

String Bean- You. Friday night. WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT? ( That also goes for the rest of you. 12-5 would have been nice.)

The Rest of The Team Besides David Wells Last Night- I know it was Santana. I know you feel guilty about breaking Torii Hunter. But you did this two Mondays ago in Tampa Bay, and it was just as annoying then. Boomer is a bad ass. Boomer could pitch the ears off a gundark. But Boomer needs RUN SUPPORT. And more than that, Boomer needs PEOPLE TO CATCH THE GODDAMN BALL AT FIRST, ROBERTO PETAGINE!!!!!!!! ( Well, actually, Mike Timlin needed that, but I'm speaking metaphorically.)

*sigh*I miss John Olerud.

Randy Johnson screwed up last night, and you did not take advantage of that. This is unacceptable. When the Yankees screw up, you should always be there, driving the knife in deeper.
Gameplan? Salvage this series, and then get on the proverbial horse again.

The Mojo Lives On

Kristen pointed out yesterday:

When all was said and done, when the smoke had cleared, everyone who started the day on the roster, remained there. Everyone went to sleep last night secure – for the first time in weeks – that the 2005 Red Sox roster still boasted Bronson Arroyo, Kevin Youkilis, Bill Mueller and Manny Ramirez. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I slept pretty well last night.

Amen to dat.
My mother and I might look like reasonably sane people on the outside.
But that would not be clear to anyone listening to us on the Amtrak train back from the Cape on Sunday.
Listening intently, nee, desparately, to the sports updates on WFAN to make sure that Billy Mueller had not been traded.
We put off grocery shopping until the trade deadline had passed. For we were not to be denied. Billy Mueller was to remain our third basemen, goddamnit.
(I really think my mother might have done something violent to Theo had it gone the other way.)

And though most of the String Bean/Burnett trade talk had died down by the weekend, there was the evil little voice in the back of my head.
Fortunately, my favorite t-shirt is not vintage, not yet.
My boy is present and accounted for.

I love all the Red Sox, but my love for Bronson is a step above. I can't quite explain it . It happened earlier this season, when he was the rock of the rotation, turning out start after quality start. Looking like the unlikeliest person to do so, with those golden curls, and the legume thin frame. That is when the Vegetable Mojo was born.
And then there was the near no-hitter in May. It has reached mythical status, if only in my own mind. If he could do that, he could do anything.
For he is my Bronson, my B, my String Bean.
And he's starting at Fenway tomorrow, and all is right with the world.

Now, it is time to start it up. All distractions, eliminated.
It's time to get down to business.