History in the Making
"Show bunt" is such a funny phrase to me. I show bunt. He show bunt. She show bunt. We show bunt.
So, yeah, I've got lots to catch up on here. Firstly, the Sox are on fire. Fi-YAAAAAAH (sung like Ian Astbury in "Firewoman," less like Jim Morrison in "Light My Fire," though they are interchangeable, really - whichever brooding rock star strikes your fancy). Eleven (plus Eleven, what to do when I was seven) straight with no errors. Unbelievable.
Speaking of Morrisons and brooders, Adam was drafted by the Bobcats! Sadly, he will leave Gonzaga before his last year (who knows how they will fare in the still 65 team NCAA men's tournament?), however, Charlotte must be psyched. He's still rockin' his crazy hair and mustache, thank heavens. And did you know that he's wicked into Karl Marx and Che Guevara? He's such a complicated person. Oh, and he pronounces Gonzaga properly, which I might have written a while back. I think it deserves another mention. I am very much considering purchasing his player jersey this year, though I would certainly covet a Gonzaga Morrison jersey more. And if the C's really get AI, well, I will shit myself. I love Iverson and I have no issues with all his "street" whatever that people complain about.
Pedro's return has sparked feelings of nostalgia all throughout the land. I was at Fenway for the first 2 games of the series (alone on Tuesday and with my friend, Kara, last night - all tickets courtesy of Jere - thank you! Well, I'm going to pay him for them, but still ...). I was there for every ovation, every moving tribute. Do I have pictures? No. Why? Because I was clapping crazy like a dope the whole time. But, here are some shots of our '86 American League champs:
Here's Alice. She threw out the 1st pitch. 100 years old, and let me tell you, plenty capable of finding the strike zone.
Castig, the MC
Oil Can Boyd
Converging on the mound
Here comes Bruce Hurst
JIM! (a little blurry, sorry)
Steve Crawford (I think)
And lastly, here are the 2006 Sox, doing the traditional hand slappin' at the end of the game.
Last night's game was pretty interesting. On the way over, Kara and I were waiting by the Museum of Science, to get onto Storrow, and some weirdo jogging with a t-shirt that simply said "OFFICIAL" on the back, ran his sweaty jogging ass over to my car, stuck his head in (may or may not have dripped sweat on Kara's lap) and said, "I like your stickers!" (referring to my bumper stickers). The rest of the night was simply divine. Fantastic weather (the overcast sky eventually gave way to a gorgeous sunset), close proximity to the beer line and the ladies room, and a nice mix of people in the bleachers (meaning Mets and Sox fans). I heard "(I Wanna) Rock and Roll All Night," by KISS, which I thought was a nice substitute for not hearing Danzig's, "Mother," as Foulke is still on the DL. Incidentally, my next pet (oh, man, there were some sweet cats up for adoption at the Animal Rescue League this weekend) will be named, "Danzig" (male or female).
So, here we are in the 9th. And we are very close to another sweep (2 run lead with Pap on the mound). 4 consecutive, it would be. What an AMAZING diving catch by Coco. I almost lost my mind watching that. Wow. The Sox could be making history here. If they get through this game (or the next) without an error, we will have. Too lazy to do the research.