I am now beginning to look forward to football. It's been a long journey since that cold February day, the day when the unthinkable became reality, the day the Patriots became dead to me. For months when I'd drink me voddie out of a Patriots shot glass, I'd comment on how unusual it is to find a glass with no emblem at all. When I'd curl up at night with my little bankie I'd see it as white and unblemished. And hoodie... Dear hoodie was banished to the closet.
I understand we're the bad guys now. I remember from my Celtics experiences in the 80's how success breeds contempt. I know the feel-good story could never last - the upstart young team overcomes double-digit odds to beat the Greatest Show on Turf. How a nation still reeling from the attacks of September 11 rallied around a bunch of no-names introduced as a team, a team called the Patriots, no less. But that story's only good once - do it again and you're the evil empire, just like the Skankees. The victims become the aggressors in Baghdad and Jacksonville and Madden asks "Can you think of a team name more patriotic than the Eagles?" Well, yes, John, I can. Except now we're called the Cheatriots with coach Belicheat.
The other day I was talking football with a little kid while he ate some chocolate cake. He said the Patriots coach is a cheater. I wanted to say to him, can't you understand that's such a narrow definition of a man well into his fifties? Here you are eating chocolate cake, can you imagine every time someone mentions your name I say "Oh he eats chocolate cake. He's nothing but a dirty chocolate cake eater." Years from now you come into work on a Monday morning and say you had a good weekend and I say "What, did you eat some chocolate cake?" Can't you see how ludicrous that is? But he's only six, and not yet ready for such understanding, so I just told him "Don't believe half of what you see and none of what you hear." Everyone needs some Lou Reed, the earlier the better.
So now training camp has begun. Draft picks have been signed. And today I saw the first commercial for the new Madden. Yep, I hear they're starting up a new sport this fall, gonna call it "football." I think I'll root for the Patriots.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Mitchell Report is unpleasant reading
Tonight I'm beginning to digest Senator Mitchell's 400-page report on steroid use in baseball, and it's not going down too well.
Just outside my bedroom door is a cabinet full of Red Sox memorabilia I've collected over the years - I call it my Shrine. One of the displays is four baseballs I got in 1995, each highlighting a different Sox player - three of the four are named as using steroids. The report even has copies of the cancelled checks where they paid for the drugs. It's been building for a long time now, but this is a sad day for baseball. It's a sad day for me as I look at the things in my collection and wonder what they're worth - not in a financial sense but what they're worth to me. Tonight I can't remember all the times those guys made me happy - I only feel naive when I see all the warning signs in retrospect. In a way, though, each of the items represents not just the player, but also where and who I was when I acquired it - in that sense they're all still valuable. Sucks though.
Just outside my bedroom door is a cabinet full of Red Sox memorabilia I've collected over the years - I call it my Shrine. One of the displays is four baseballs I got in 1995, each highlighting a different Sox player - three of the four are named as using steroids. The report even has copies of the cancelled checks where they paid for the drugs. It's been building for a long time now, but this is a sad day for baseball. It's a sad day for me as I look at the things in my collection and wonder what they're worth - not in a financial sense but what they're worth to me. Tonight I can't remember all the times those guys made me happy - I only feel naive when I see all the warning signs in retrospect. In a way, though, each of the items represents not just the player, but also where and who I was when I acquired it - in that sense they're all still valuable. Sucks though.
Friday, November 16, 2007
You're not gonna believe this one...
Yep yep it's been a long long long time since we've posted. My beloved Red Sox won the World Series, the Patriots and Celtics are both undefeated (is this reality?), even the Bruins are playing strong. BC was number two, the goddamn New England Revolution are in the playoffs. Not only can it not get better, you have no right to even dream of this if you're a Boston sports fan.
And yet after a couple shots of voddie, the one man I really want to salute is Joe Torre. Yep, the Yankees manager, the dark lord of the sith and a real stand-up guy. Any real Sox fan respects Joe Torre and Derek Jeter, and rejoices at the resigning of A-Hole cos it means ten more years of no Yankee championships. We finally got the AL East title - the first time since Kevin Kennedy and the days of Valentin, Vaughn and Canseco. Jedi mind trick to George Mitchell: These are not the players you're looking for.
But they gave us a scare down the stretch - they overcame a seriously un-Yankee start to win the Wild Card, and you've got to salute the manager for that. A man who made the postseason in each of his twelve years as manager. Everyone whose favorite team is confined by three dimensions think about that for a moment: ten AL East titles, six pennants, and four World Championships. The Sox can only hope for that success in the coming years, and yet Furious George casts aside the anchor. Thankfully it appears they're too afraid to make the complete break, resigning 30-somethings instead of developing farm talent. Joba the Hutt is the antipapelbon and I can become a Dodger fan - Vin Scully makes it so easy. What it all means is vote for Torre as Manager of the Year, early and often. He's the only Yankee I've ever given money to.
And yet after a couple shots of voddie, the one man I really want to salute is Joe Torre. Yep, the Yankees manager, the dark lord of the sith and a real stand-up guy. Any real Sox fan respects Joe Torre and Derek Jeter, and rejoices at the resigning of A-Hole cos it means ten more years of no Yankee championships. We finally got the AL East title - the first time since Kevin Kennedy and the days of Valentin, Vaughn and Canseco. Jedi mind trick to George Mitchell: These are not the players you're looking for.
But they gave us a scare down the stretch - they overcame a seriously un-Yankee start to win the Wild Card, and you've got to salute the manager for that. A man who made the postseason in each of his twelve years as manager. Everyone whose favorite team is confined by three dimensions think about that for a moment: ten AL East titles, six pennants, and four World Championships. The Sox can only hope for that success in the coming years, and yet Furious George casts aside the anchor. Thankfully it appears they're too afraid to make the complete break, resigning 30-somethings instead of developing farm talent. Joba the Hutt is the antipapelbon and I can become a Dodger fan - Vin Scully makes it so easy. What it all means is vote for Torre as Manager of the Year, early and often. He's the only Yankee I've ever given money to.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Bootleg PBS
That's right, bootleg PBS. Just cos I'm that hardcore. I'm watchin burned DVDs of Charlie Rose interviewing Al Gore. Old episodes of the Jim Lehrer Newshour hosted by Ray Suarez. If you can't hang with that go back to eating grapes in the supermarket aisles. I'm flippin past discs of Frontline to get to Ken Burns' Civil War. You want vintage 3-2-1 Contact? How bout some Reading Rainbow? Hey what punkass stole the cookie from the cookie jar? Me, muddafugga. Couldn't be, you say? Then who? Sure as hell wasn't that beeyotch Boot. I left him tied up James Bond style to be swallowed by a boa constrictor. That's how I roll. It's all made possible by annual financial support from suckas like you. Thank you.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
A God By Any Other Name
Bishop Tiny Muskens of the Netherlands has suggested all religions refer to their god as "Allah" in order to foster unity and understanding among the faithful. You know, I've never once met a man named "Tiny" that actually was. Every Tiny I've ever met has been a huge guy with a scraggly beard and prison tattoos on his fingers spelling out words like FATE or JAKE or JOLIET. I haven't seen a picture of Bishop Muskens but I bet he used to be a biker.
So what's wrong with calling God something different? I've done this myself for years to trick people into thinking I was Christian. My god doesn't have a name - like many of this generation I first caught glimpse of my belief system through the visions of George Lucas. But it makes people feel better when you call your god "God" - it makes them think you're talking about their god too. And no matter how obviously ridiculous it is to assign gender characteristics to an unseen force of the universe I still refer to God as a He. Anyone who calls God She is only trying to make a point, to be edgy and make other people uncomfortable. Go ahead and write the hate mail, I've heard all the loving mother arguments and to me there's no difference between a high priestess and a pope. Any religion that argues that one person is inherently closer to God than another can go suck eggs. It makes no difference if the name is God, Allah or the Great Green Arkleseizure - it's all spokes on the same wheel.
So what's wrong with calling God something different? I've done this myself for years to trick people into thinking I was Christian. My god doesn't have a name - like many of this generation I first caught glimpse of my belief system through the visions of George Lucas. But it makes people feel better when you call your god "God" - it makes them think you're talking about their god too. And no matter how obviously ridiculous it is to assign gender characteristics to an unseen force of the universe I still refer to God as a He. Anyone who calls God She is only trying to make a point, to be edgy and make other people uncomfortable. Go ahead and write the hate mail, I've heard all the loving mother arguments and to me there's no difference between a high priestess and a pope. Any religion that argues that one person is inherently closer to God than another can go suck eggs. It makes no difference if the name is God, Allah or the Great Green Arkleseizure - it's all spokes on the same wheel.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Don't Panic!
I've said all year I'm gonna wait to worry till the Red Sox' lead in the AL East was five games.
eep...
Well the bottom line is we need the offense to kick in, and in general lately that's been happening. If you're going to be deficient somewhere, I'd rather it be hitting than pitching. After all, how many games can you win 10-6, 8-5, 16-8?
Enough, apparently, judging from the Yankees' last month. We all know the Yankers beat up on weak teams, but the problem lately (this millenium) has been their struggles against teams with winning records. So looking at this past month as they've trimmed the deficit from 12 games to 5, how many times did they play a .500 team? Hmm - not once. In the first 25 games after the All-Star break, not a one was against a winning team. That trend stops Friday, with series against Cleveland and Anaheim, and two series with Detroit before facing Boston at the end of the month. I posit this particular stretch will be more telling of their true toughness. My beloved Sox, on the other hand, have fully a quarter of their remaining games (12 of 49) with Tampa Bay, the worst team in baseball.
Our tendency to panic comes from something decades old and deep inside. Most of it was washed away in the blood of Curt Schilling, but it's all really only ever remission. Buck up, lil campers. The magic number is 45. This is not your father's Red Sox - it's your Papi's.
eep...
Well the bottom line is we need the offense to kick in, and in general lately that's been happening. If you're going to be deficient somewhere, I'd rather it be hitting than pitching. After all, how many games can you win 10-6, 8-5, 16-8?
Enough, apparently, judging from the Yankees' last month. We all know the Yankers beat up on weak teams, but the problem lately (this millenium) has been their struggles against teams with winning records. So looking at this past month as they've trimmed the deficit from 12 games to 5, how many times did they play a .500 team? Hmm - not once. In the first 25 games after the All-Star break, not a one was against a winning team. That trend stops Friday, with series against Cleveland and Anaheim, and two series with Detroit before facing Boston at the end of the month. I posit this particular stretch will be more telling of their true toughness. My beloved Sox, on the other hand, have fully a quarter of their remaining games (12 of 49) with Tampa Bay, the worst team in baseball.
Our tendency to panic comes from something decades old and deep inside. Most of it was washed away in the blood of Curt Schilling, but it's all really only ever remission. Buck up, lil campers. The magic number is 45. This is not your father's Red Sox - it's your Papi's.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Yankee Hole
Oh my good... Oh my goodness gracious I can't believe it. Of all the most dramatic things... Roger Clemens was booed off the mound at Yankee Stadium. Roger Clemens gave up eight runs in an inning and two-thirds... Jorge Posada looks shocked, Andy Pettitte thought it might happen... And there you go, I guess now it's time to start wondering who'll take that fifth spot in the rotation... Oh the humanity...
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