This yankee fan lady returned to work today, after having been in the hospital since before the playoffs. So wearing a Red Sox shirt EVERY day paid off, because it guaranteed me having one on the day she came back.

She came right up to me and stared at the shirt (today's was "AL Champs," perfect), taking her medicine, so to speak. Good job by her. She didn't start with the "2090" crap. You know they're actually selling T-shirts that say "1918, 2004, 2090." What yankee fan is really gonna buy that? "Yeah, I don't THINK the Sox will win again for 86 more years! So there!" Come on, people. Actually, I really, really hope I get to see yankee fans wearing that shirt. I'll have a nice laugh (in their faces) over it.

You know, every fourth or fifth day, I'll start to feel a little embarrased about wearing Red Sox shirts every day, like thinking that everyone's making fun of me. But within a second, that feeling goes away and is replaced by giddiness and pride. I just walk right by those fuckers with my head held high. All those pieces of crap, taunting me for all these years, because of what team I like. People who never had a clue. People who heard from their friends that it's cool to make fun of Red Sox fans. People who called themselves yankee fans, despite literally not knowing any of the players' names. People who thought that because they said the word "choke" to me, than that must make them a better person than I am. You know what? That's all they had. 1918 is all they had. Now, they're still redneck trailer trash with borderline mullets, and I'm still a smart, funny dude, AND my team is number one, while their team is a bunch of chokers. Choke. Oh, how that word has gone from being so painful to hear, to being the sweetest word in the English language. "Sweeter than any candy you've ever tasted."--Mike Timlin

Mad Dog was great today, showing the Red Sox SI issue on the air on the Steinbrenner-owned 'Hell, No' network. And just generally rubbing in the Red Sox beating the yanks after being down 3 games to none, and going on to win the World Series, to Mike. Mike is so pissed, talking about how all these Sox fans keep calling him up, and he just can't say anything.

The day after I wrote about dirtdog only liking the American Red Sox players, some other folks wrote to him saying a similar thing, and he posted those emails, followed by emails from fans defending dirtdog. I think this is all made up, to make it look like one person says dirtdog's a racist, but he's a dumb yankee fan, so he must be wrong, while everyone who defends dirtdog is a smart Sox fan, so they must be right. Either way, all I'm gonna say about this is: There's racism everywhere, lots of it. Boston has a lot of racists. New York has a lot of racists. I'm proud of my team for who they are, and I'm proud to be in the company (fan-wise) of so many great, passionate people who support the Red Sox. But I'm sickened by every racist, no matter what team they root for. I could easily point out all the good, non-racist things about the Red Sox and their fans, while pointing out all the bad, racist things about the yanks and their fans. But I know there's good and bad on both sides. I'll do that stuff when it comes to baseball-related issues (like ripping on Quantrill all year long and rarely even mentioning Ramiro Mendoza), but when it comes to real-life stuff, it's a whole different ballgame. Or, not a ballgame at all, as my point was supposed to be.

Finally, one more note about the Nirvana box set: Pat informed me that the box itself is heat sensitive. So you can put your hand on it for a few seconds, and it'll leave a white handprint on the box. So have fun. If you don't own it, go to the store and try it out. Although who knows if it works through shrink wrap. Either way, keep your pants on, everybody. Especially at the Wal-Mart.