Saturday, July 24, 2004


What an ending! That was the type of home run where I cheered just as hard watching the replay as I did for the original. It was just so damn sweet, like tasty-licious sweet, seeing Mueller go deep off of Mariano. Keep prayin' to whoever that guy is you pray to--yeah, the Johnny Damon lookin' guy--because it really works, Billy!

This has possibly been the most eventful two weeks of my whole life. I went to Seattle for a week and did all that vacation-y stuff out there, only to come back to get things ready for my new band's first show, including doing two band "photo shoots" (of the DIY variety of course), so that there can be a picture of me and Pat--that's the whole band-- in the local paper to accompany an article about this blog and the Red Sox, for which I did the interview today. It will be out Tuesday, I believe, I'll link here to the article. And I went to New York Wednesday to see a screening of Groundhog Day, with special guest, Harold Ramis, whose autograph I got. And I shot a scene for my friend's movie, another DIY deal, wearing a heavy coat with no shirt under it, and a cockfighting hat on my head that my uncle got for me when I was little. And Pat & I went to BOTH games of the day-night doubleheader on Thursday. And in the midst of it all, it just happened to be a Red Sox-yankees weekend. So what have we learned so far in this series? Let's see...

1. Fox made way too big a deal about the fact that today's game was delayed. And if the yanks wanna pack up the trucks before the game is called, that's nobody's fault but their own.

2. We learned that if A-Rod wants to mess with Varitek, he's gonna get his pretty face smashed, and then lifted, by the crotch, mind you, into the air and then pummeled by the entire Red Sox team. (Fox never mentioned the crotch thing, but it was pretty clear.)

3. Tanyon Sturtze, or anyone else, is no match for Gabe Kapler.

4. Quantrill, Gordon, Rivera, and the rest of the yankees pitching staff, showed how they pitch against a talented lineup.

5. Millar may very well be "back."

6. Mendoza can actually pitch good. (I just got off the phone with my mom, who pointed that out, as I'd already forgotten, what with the ending and all, plus Mendoza got guys out so fast, he was barely on my screen at all. Note: my mom refers to him as "that yankee guy.")

7. The Red Sox need some bullpen help--oh wait, we knew that.

About this fight, though. I love how we continue to not back down to the yankees. When A-Rod started mouthing off, I said to Varitek, "Punch him in the face!". I had just barely got the word "face" out of my mouth, when Jason actually did it. Joe Buck started to say something about A-Rod, and it really sounded like he was gonna say that A-Rod should've just walked to first, and I was like, wow, he's finally gonna speak the truth. But no, he was saying that A-Rod will probably look good to his teammates for, uh, getting his ass kicked and his starting pitcher and himself knocked out of the game. I guess. When I told Pat this, he pointed out that A-Rod would've been right either way in Fox's eyes, for had he just walked to first, they would've talked about how classy he is. Terrible job.

But these fights against the yankees, they put me into a mental state I rarely get to visit. I'm not a violent person, well, I mean, inanimate object occasionally suffer the brunt of my frustrated outbursts, but I've never been in a phsical fight with another human being. (Well, Steve Metzker spit in my face in middle school, after chasing me around because I called him fat, but that's about it.) So when the people that represent "my team" are suddenly physically beating on the people I hate with such a passion, I feel like I'm in a fight. And I start screaming the type of screams that would probably scare Lys if she were around.

Fighting the yankees rules.

I hope all the "we don't care about the yankees" Red Sox fans got a little taste of the yankee-hating spirit today; maybe they'll think about comin' back to my side. I'm always so proud to be a Sox fan when they're going at it with the yanks.

Also, did you notice at the end Jason Varitek jumping on the pile--I think he had shorts on. That was great.

Also, Jason Giambi has been searching for answers everywhere to find out what's wrong with him. I'd love to be a doctor, and come in to his room and say,  "Diagnosis-You Stink!"

Friday Five Answers

Check out the Friday Five on It's about the Red Sox. Here are my answers:

1. Definitely the helmet sundae. When they ask you what you want on there, just say, "everything." But if you just order a "helmet," as opposed to a "sundae" (which also comes in the helmet), you don't get toppings, so order correctly. (I found this out the hard way.) A note on Cracker Jacks--the only time I've ever got Cracker Jacks and DID NOT find a prize inside was at Fenway Park. Has anyone else ever NOT gotten a prize?

2. I'm gonna go with Mike Greenwell here. I also loved Jim Rice and Dewey Evans. And my favorite Sox cult hero of course is Rich Gedman. (I never really liked Boggs that much, but the game you mentioned might have been the one where he got a double, and waved to the crowd from second base. I can't remember the significance of the hit, either.

3. I don't have one favorite from the current team, but if I had to choose, I'd say Varitek just barely over Trot, Pedro, Manny, Ortiz, and Nomar. And Mueller, Damon, and Wakefield. And Pokey.

4. Funny how Megan went to Florie's first game back. I was at the game where he got hit in the eye. It was on my birthday. I've also been to a lot of great Sox games, like Trot hitting the homer off Clemens at NY, and Derek Lowe's No-Hitter, but my favorite moment is still the Brunansky catch in '90, with Henderson's HR in '86 close--no, tied with that.

5. My worst Red Sox moment was definitely when my whole family stood up and all held hands when the team was one strike away in '86, and watching it all fall apart.

Friday, July 23, 2004

Key Weekend

I was just watching the 6:00 News on Channel 2 New York. They did a report on security for the DNC in Boston. When they cut back to the live shot of the reporter, she was standing on Lansdowne Street. They probably were there to cover the yanks-Sox game that's about to start, so they just did that report right from behind Fenway. So sure enough, some dude walks behind the lady and yells, "Yankees Suck!!!"


Terrible job by channel 2 thinking they'd avoid that.

I got to see two Red Sox debuts up at Fenway yesterday, Abe in Game 1, and Ricky Gutierrez in Game 2. Abe should be okay in a few years, he just needs to not walk everybody. And this Gutierrez, the first Gutierrez on the Sox since Jackie, seems to be good with the glove.

I wonder if any team has ever had an Abe and a Gabe on their roster at the same time before yesterday...

This team seriously needs to kick some yankee butt this weekend.

Tuesday, July 20, 2004


The time: 12:52 AM
The low end: "Thip thip thip thip thip thip thip thip thip thip."
The high end: "Squeeeeeeaeeeeaeeeeeaaeeeeeee."
Castiglione: "Abaaba ba ba baaaaa aaa aa daa swing and a miss! he gabaa baaabaa"
The neighbors: "What the hell is going on over there?"
Ah, the pleasures of listening to the Red Sox. It's the top of the ninth, another nail-biter. Every once in a while I check back with "Gameday" to see what's going on when the static gets to the point where it's completely overtaken the voice of Joe. But it's no fun to see words come up on a screen. That's no way to experience a ballgame.
Speaking of experiences, nail-biting, and things that travel through the air...
I'm scared to death of flying on planes. I took four flights in the last week (we connected in Chicago to and from Seattle). I've probably taken 30 or so flights in my life, and instead of getting used to the whole idea, I just get more and more afraid of it.
On the fourth and final flight, last night, I stared at the wing the whole time. Except when I went to the bathroom. I feel better standing than sitting on board the plane for some reason. On the way down the aisle, I looked at everyone's face, many of them attached to sleeping people, and noticed how calm they all were. This only scared me more. I feel like if I watch the wing the whole time, I can keep the plane aloft. And it's all my responsibility, because these other fools are just sleeping, or sitting patiently, oblivious to just how close they could be to their deaths. Meanwhile, I feel like if I loosen up just a little bit, I'll blow it for everyone, and the plane will go spinning out of control, and the last thing I'll remember is hearing some Shania Twain song on the two-dollar headphones. It was even hard to look at Lys, because if I smile back at her calm, soothing expression, I'll cost us all our lives. It's like the Kurt Cobain line: "Look on the bright side is suicide". Like as soon as you think everything's okay, all hell breaks loose.
During that final flight, I finally figured out that if I moved my knees back and forth rapidly, it would make the seats bounce, and that bouncing was actually worse than the bouncing of the plane. So I'd just think, Hey, that's just the seat, not the plane itself. Needless to say, my legs got quite a workout.
This all may sound very familiar to you if you're a Sox fan. Sitting there, staring at one spot, bouncing that leg and not letting it stop. Hoping your girlfriend doesn't come in the room at that key moment, after everything had been going so well, to change the momentum in the room, and therefore at the park, hundreds of miles away. Sounds like the playoffs, right? In that '95 game vs. Cleveland--the Tony Pena game--I remember sitting there, playing the same guitar chords, and doing some arm motion exactly the same way between every pitch in the late innings. There was no way I was going to the bathroom that night. My dad was right there on the couch, but for some reason, he never told me to stop playing that silly tune after every single pitch. Maybe he was sucked into my groove, banking on me and my psychotic methods to get the Red Sox to victory.
I don't know how to really wrap up the connection, because my plane has never crashed, while the Red Sox always have. This must be what all these people mean when they say that we Sox fans won't know what to do when the team actually wins it all. Maybe the crash is the safe landing. Maybe --well, another Kurt line comes to mind--"I miss the comfort in being sad."
 [As I'm writing, the Sox blew it in the ninth, and we're now in extra innings.]
But I still disagree with all those people. When it really happens, I don't see how it could be bad. That's why I'm sitting here at 1:20 in the morning, listening to "Thip thip thip thip thip." That pulsing is going about as fast as my heart was on the plane. I'm not really hearing anything but the pulsing now, just hoping that when I do hear a hint of a human voice, it's happy, not sad.
I'm going to go to bed soon, because I have to work in the morning. Going to Seattle, doing so much cool stuff, seeing all the creative people and funky neighborhoods and hearing great music, made me realize that I'm not supposed to be working every day, but that I need to do what I want to do, and write and make music and make movies every day. Writing is cool and amidst all the stupid people, there are lots of awesome people. You can add yourself to the awesome list since you're reading my writing now.
Smiley face.
Crap. The winning run is in scoring position. That came through loud and clear.
I will go to bed now. I will say that I think the Sox will lose. Maybe the baseball gods will read that and think I'm an M's fan who's too confident, and will make the M's lose
Have I become desperate? Or am I just jet-lagged?
The magic number is 79 pending tonight's outcome, since the yanks lost to the Rays, thanks to their totally horrible pitching staff. I am not thinking wild card. I can promise you that. Oh wait, for the gods: yankees great; invincible; lineup too good; there, that oughtta give the yanks some more bad luck.
I felt like this was a good "piece," ruined by ramblings. So read it again, and stop halfway.

Monday, July 19, 2004

Seattle, Here I...Oh Wait

Just got back from Seattle last night and man am I--what?? Yeah I know the Sox are just getting to Seattle to play the M's tonight. And yes, I knew that when Lys & I planned our vacation. It just didn't work out, okay? I'll catch the Sox back in Beantown for Wednesday's double header. Quit grillin' me under these hot lights...
Anyway, it's okay that I didn't go a ball game in Seattle, because that just would've taken away from our time there checking out the city and surronding areas. Seattle friggin' rules. We went there to find sunny skies and 80 degree temps literally every day for a week, only to return home to the dreary, rainy northeast. They get like 16 hours of daylight out there this time of year. It's incredible, beautiful, and really fun. Just make sure you go in July or August.
Now I wanna talk about Kevin Millar.
Everybody seems up in arms about this guy's antics, what with his commercials and little slogans for the team. I admit, I started to think he was a little nuts when he came up with "Yee Haw." Then I heard his commercial on the radio for "Reverse the Curse" Ice Cream. (This is the only ad I've seen or heard him on, as I live out of the Boston market-he heh. It's played on the Sox radio broadcasts.) Anyway, in the commercial he talks about haircuts and stuff, and says, something like, "Watch out, if this ice cream doesn't work, it's mohawk time come October." That's probably way off, but the point is, the dude is just jokin' around. When he comes up with slogans, it's because he just feels like doing something weird. I don't think he's in the clubhouse mapping out plans on which demographic will buy which "Yee Haw" t-shirt, when he should be taking ground balls; I think he's just a goofball. The important thing is, it seems like he really tries hard and wants to see the Sox win in a similar way that the fans do.
I knew this all along about him, but I feel like I got roped into the Dirtdogs mentality of taking everything too seriously. Like as if Kevin Millar saying Yee Haw is gonna make the Red Sox lose. Who cares what he does... I'd rather have guys with personalities than robots on the team.
You know what, though? My last Fenway game, on July 7th, Millar was swinging for the monster during batting practice. Like he was strictly showing off. So except for that, I'm down with Millar. I'm sure it waas just that one day. Ehhh....

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