Things I've Learned So Far in Prague:
-Sujan needs much more sleep time in the Czech Republic than she does in the States.
-200,000 people were buried in the the small Jewish cemetary in the ghetto because Jews weren't allowed to have more space.
-If you walk around the perimeter of the Jewish cemetary, you might notice that people live in the apartments that surround it.
-If you walk around the perimeter of the cemetary and look in one of the apartments, you might find a naked woman walking in her kitchen and share a chuckle with another tourist who noticed the same thing.
-Weather in Prague in July is quite beautiful. Sunny, high 70's, low humidity during the day. 50's and crisp at night. The San Diego of Europe without the beach?
-Everytime your wife orders water with no gas, you suppress the urge to laugh.
- The police don't really seem to be in a hurry to do anything. Yesterday, a man cried out to an officer that a crime had just been committed and that the officer should hurry to catch the criminal. By the time the officer had leisurely sauntered over to the man, the criminal was long gone.
- Blind men working in the bus station information booth are very rude to people who ask for information.
- Wenceslas Square is not really a square, but rather a long boulevard.
-At night, Wenceslas Square is full of drug dealers, prostitutes, and people who work for the many strip clubs trying to get people to visit their establishments.
-One of the clubs, "Darling Cabaret" is located right next to our hotel. They have a huge white limo parked on the corner of the street advertising their wares. "Up to 200 Go-Go Girls!" Today, I saw a man pose his 7 year old daughter in front of the limo for a picture. Classy!
Last night, we noticed that the limo goes around cruising in the neighborhood to pick up possible customers to bring them back to the "cabaret."
- The preferred come-on of local prostitutes is "Sucky, Sucky?"
_There are many shops selling ridiculous T-shirts. Who wants a "Czech This Out" shirt?
Thursday, July 29, 2004
Monday, July 26, 2004
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
Going to the City Clerk's Office Cuz We're Gonna Get Married
Yesterday morning, SHR and I headed to the City Clerk's Office so we could get our marriage license. I'll spare you the details of the beauracratic silliness. But the woman in charge of our paperwork, Jacqueline Rivers, was a piece of work.
She spent the entire time talking to someone- either people on the phone, to her co-worker next to her who ignored her the entire time, to the security guard who she kept asking the same question over and over without receiving an answer, and lastly, to Sujan and me. She was one of those women who thought she should be a stand-up comic in the mold of Marla Gibbs or Jackee or maybe the entire case of "227."
When we sat down, she was too busy jabbering on at others that she couldn't bother to make eye contact. After a minute or two of looking down, she asked me if I planned on taking my bride's last name. Apparently, I was supposed to fill in the section of what my name was going to be after the wedding with a "NC" for "No Change." This information was not listed anywhere on the form. I was quite confused by the silliness of the question so I replied with a confused "What?" She looked up at me and curtly replied, "The word is 'Excuse me'." Wow.
When she asked me what my mom's maiden name was (even though it was written on the paper) and I replied "Pogoloff" she made a scrunched up face like "What kind of dumb name is that, child?"
When she turned the computer screen around so we could verify the information she had typed in for us, these were some of the mistakes we found with the correct answers in parentheses and her response upon being corrected.
Sujan's Place of Birth
Quens (Queens) "Oh my!"
My Place of Birth
Bronx, Ny (Fairfax, Va) "I saw the x in Fairfax and immediately put down Bronx."
My Date of Birth
2/28/73 (2/23/73)
Sujan's Occupation
Martking (Marketing) "Wow, I need to go back to school."
Come to think of it, I think Mart King would be an excellent name for a convenience store. Maybe Jackie is onto something.
She spent the entire time talking to someone- either people on the phone, to her co-worker next to her who ignored her the entire time, to the security guard who she kept asking the same question over and over without receiving an answer, and lastly, to Sujan and me. She was one of those women who thought she should be a stand-up comic in the mold of Marla Gibbs or Jackee or maybe the entire case of "227."
When we sat down, she was too busy jabbering on at others that she couldn't bother to make eye contact. After a minute or two of looking down, she asked me if I planned on taking my bride's last name. Apparently, I was supposed to fill in the section of what my name was going to be after the wedding with a "NC" for "No Change." This information was not listed anywhere on the form. I was quite confused by the silliness of the question so I replied with a confused "What?" She looked up at me and curtly replied, "The word is 'Excuse me'." Wow.
When she asked me what my mom's maiden name was (even though it was written on the paper) and I replied "Pogoloff" she made a scrunched up face like "What kind of dumb name is that, child?"
When she turned the computer screen around so we could verify the information she had typed in for us, these were some of the mistakes we found with the correct answers in parentheses and her response upon being corrected.
Sujan's Place of Birth
Quens (Queens) "Oh my!"
My Place of Birth
Bronx, Ny (Fairfax, Va) "I saw the x in Fairfax and immediately put down Bronx."
My Date of Birth
2/28/73 (2/23/73)
Sujan's Occupation
Martking (Marketing) "Wow, I need to go back to school."
Come to think of it, I think Mart King would be an excellent name for a convenience store. Maybe Jackie is onto something.
I Miss Memorial Stadium
If anyone needs a reminder of how much better things used to be in Baltimore, check out this article in the Baltimore Sun (quick, free registration). It mentions some of the more colorful characters who have attended O's games over the years. There is an update on Wild Bill Hagy in the article:
In all the years of baseball at 33rd Street and Camden Yards, the most enduring character is Wild Bill Hagy, the Dundalk cab driver with the full beard and jug-band hat who led cheers from the upper deck in the 1970s and '80s, when the Orioles seemed always in the hunt for a pennant.
The Hagy thing developed the way these things should - spontaneously, a natural progression from man sitting with beer and watching his team, to man standing and leading cheers by spelling the name of the team with his pot-bellied body, to man becoming local legend and the face of down-home Baltimore.
Hagy, now 65, retired in January from driving a cab. He subscribes to a 29-game plan with the Orioles, his seat in the first row of Section 312. Once in a while he leads a cheer, but for the most part he keeps a much lower profile at Camden Yards. "I don't think most of the people around me know who I am," Hagy says with a laugh, "and that's OK; I kind of like it that way."
Hagy and his Section 34 gang flourished at Memorial Stadium in a time when such things could develop on their own, without contrivance by marketing managers. His was a genuine outburst of affection in the time of tank tops and Oriole Magic. Before it was over, Hagy had secured iconic stature, and someday there will just have to be a statue.
The people from the past were truly colorful and unique. The recent people mentioned are a guy who dresses up for games (big deal! No wonder Baltimore is terrified of Washington getting a baseball team- the Hogettes will put these clowns to shame) and that idiot lemonade shaking vendor. Granted, the first time I saw him, I was amused, but this is out of control. The guy is a motivational speaker and minor celebrity. You can book him to come to your event dressed in his vendor's uniform and do some shaking. You think he's booked this Saturday night?
Check out his website for some scary almost pornographic photos.
In all the years of baseball at 33rd Street and Camden Yards, the most enduring character is Wild Bill Hagy, the Dundalk cab driver with the full beard and jug-band hat who led cheers from the upper deck in the 1970s and '80s, when the Orioles seemed always in the hunt for a pennant.
The Hagy thing developed the way these things should - spontaneously, a natural progression from man sitting with beer and watching his team, to man standing and leading cheers by spelling the name of the team with his pot-bellied body, to man becoming local legend and the face of down-home Baltimore.
Hagy, now 65, retired in January from driving a cab. He subscribes to a 29-game plan with the Orioles, his seat in the first row of Section 312. Once in a while he leads a cheer, but for the most part he keeps a much lower profile at Camden Yards. "I don't think most of the people around me know who I am," Hagy says with a laugh, "and that's OK; I kind of like it that way."
Hagy and his Section 34 gang flourished at Memorial Stadium in a time when such things could develop on their own, without contrivance by marketing managers. His was a genuine outburst of affection in the time of tank tops and Oriole Magic. Before it was over, Hagy had secured iconic stature, and someday there will just have to be a statue.
The people from the past were truly colorful and unique. The recent people mentioned are a guy who dresses up for games (big deal! No wonder Baltimore is terrified of Washington getting a baseball team- the Hogettes will put these clowns to shame) and that idiot lemonade shaking vendor. Granted, the first time I saw him, I was amused, but this is out of control. The guy is a motivational speaker and minor celebrity. You can book him to come to your event dressed in his vendor's uniform and do some shaking. You think he's booked this Saturday night?
Check out his website for some scary almost pornographic photos.
Monday, July 19, 2004
The Mets Are in Big Trouble
Mike DeJean? Mike DeJean? Why?
Today the Mets traded the expendable Karim Garcia to the Orioles for Mike DeJean, the most useless reliever this side of Billy Taylor, August 1999. DeJean has been terrible for the Orioles this year, but apparently, his ERA is below 5 over the past six weeks. For the year, his ERA is a tad over 6.00 and he has allowed close to two base runners per nine innings. Stellar.
As far as the O's go, I'm super happy they got rid of the awful DeJean, but what is the point of trading for Karim Garcia? Now all the Birds have to do is get rid of Jason Grimsley as well. Maybe for Shane Spencer?
By the way, Denny Bautista, the young stud they traded for Albert Belle's enabler Grimsley is dominating in the minor leagues right now.
I think this might be the first trade these two teams have made since before the 1999 season in which the Mets acquired Armando Benitez and the Orioles received Charles Johnson in a three team trade.
Today the Mets traded the expendable Karim Garcia to the Orioles for Mike DeJean, the most useless reliever this side of Billy Taylor, August 1999. DeJean has been terrible for the Orioles this year, but apparently, his ERA is below 5 over the past six weeks. For the year, his ERA is a tad over 6.00 and he has allowed close to two base runners per nine innings. Stellar.
As far as the O's go, I'm super happy they got rid of the awful DeJean, but what is the point of trading for Karim Garcia? Now all the Birds have to do is get rid of Jason Grimsley as well. Maybe for Shane Spencer?
By the way, Denny Bautista, the young stud they traded for Albert Belle's enabler Grimsley is dominating in the minor leagues right now.
I think this might be the first trade these two teams have made since before the 1999 season in which the Mets acquired Armando Benitez and the Orioles received Charles Johnson in a three team trade.
Saturday, July 17, 2004
Thoughts on what is currently in my Walkman
I've recently been ridiculed by Leisure Time Larry for still using a cassette walkman. If I've said it once I've said it before, I will buy an i-Pod when it has Am capability. Until then, I'll continue to tape CDs and listen to them in cassette form.
So what do I have in my walkman the past few days?
Rooney- Rooney
Leisure Time and Sujan love this adorable band and god damn, they sure are catchy. But they do remind me a lot of Weezer when Weezer is good which I'm sure will get Larry up in arms.
Interpol- Antics
I didn't like their first record but after a few listens, I'm into this record a lot more that that one. Too bad all you suckers can't hear it until September, otherwise I'd ask for your opinion on why I might like this one better than the other one.
Old 97s- Drag It Up (second half- first half was on the Wilco, Magnetic Fields cassette)
Pretty good, but the non Rhett Miller songs just don't do that much for me.
So what do I have in my walkman the past few days?
Rooney- Rooney
Leisure Time and Sujan love this adorable band and god damn, they sure are catchy. But they do remind me a lot of Weezer when Weezer is good which I'm sure will get Larry up in arms.
Interpol- Antics
I didn't like their first record but after a few listens, I'm into this record a lot more that that one. Too bad all you suckers can't hear it until September, otherwise I'd ask for your opinion on why I might like this one better than the other one.
Old 97s- Drag It Up (second half- first half was on the Wilco, Magnetic Fields cassette)
Pretty good, but the non Rhett Miller songs just don't do that much for me.
Friday, July 16, 2004
What if Bad Songwriters Are One of Us?
I heard that hideous song "What if God Were One of Us? at the gym today. It was so ridiculously loud that even when I turned up my walkman quite loudly, I couldn't get Joan Osbourne's crooning out of my head. And then I started thinking about the songwriter- Eric Bazilian, formerly of the Hooters.
I used to love the Hooters. "Nervous Night" was a great album in the life of the 1985 Daniel. That album included the song "All You Zombies" which I never particularly liked at the age of 12. I wanted to rock to jams like "And We Danced", "Day by Day" and "Nervous Night."
Did Bazilian actually think either of these songs were good? Are the lyrics of these songs sent from God to Bazilian so he could torture all of us? The lyrics in both songs are so ultra serious and 9th grade poetry bad. In "All You Zombies" he condemns all the non-believers who didn't listen to Noah, Moses, and the word of God. He writes-
All you zombies show your faces, I know you're out there
All you people in the street, let's see you
All you sittin' in high places
It's all gonna fall on you
In the Joan Osbourne song, his writing gets even worse. The lyrics are so dumb and simplistic that there doesn't really seem to be much of a point other than "Duh, God might be a slob. Heh! Heh!" What the hell is this song about? Even today when I was being forced to listen to this nonsense, I assumed the song was anti-religion. I'm not quite sure why I thought that other than the way Osbourne sneers "Yeah, yeah, God is good." But it turns out that Bazilian isn't anti-religion after all. Or is he? The lyrics are so damn dumb that is is hard to tell. What an abysmal song.
Bazilian writes-
What if god was one of us
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
Just trying to make his way home
Like a holy rolling stone
Back up to heaven all alone
Just trying to make his way home
Nobody calling on the phone
Except for the pope maybe in rome
I'd never really listened to the song before and I'm not sure I should have looked up the lyrics after all. All I know is that once the song seeps into your psyche for the day, you are in trouble.
Oh yeah, Bazilian also wrote the Cyndi Lauper song "Time after Time."
I used to love the Hooters. "Nervous Night" was a great album in the life of the 1985 Daniel. That album included the song "All You Zombies" which I never particularly liked at the age of 12. I wanted to rock to jams like "And We Danced", "Day by Day" and "Nervous Night."
Did Bazilian actually think either of these songs were good? Are the lyrics of these songs sent from God to Bazilian so he could torture all of us? The lyrics in both songs are so ultra serious and 9th grade poetry bad. In "All You Zombies" he condemns all the non-believers who didn't listen to Noah, Moses, and the word of God. He writes-
All you zombies show your faces, I know you're out there
All you people in the street, let's see you
All you sittin' in high places
It's all gonna fall on you
In the Joan Osbourne song, his writing gets even worse. The lyrics are so dumb and simplistic that there doesn't really seem to be much of a point other than "Duh, God might be a slob. Heh! Heh!" What the hell is this song about? Even today when I was being forced to listen to this nonsense, I assumed the song was anti-religion. I'm not quite sure why I thought that other than the way Osbourne sneers "Yeah, yeah, God is good." But it turns out that Bazilian isn't anti-religion after all. Or is he? The lyrics are so damn dumb that is is hard to tell. What an abysmal song.
Bazilian writes-
What if god was one of us
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
Just trying to make his way home
Like a holy rolling stone
Back up to heaven all alone
Just trying to make his way home
Nobody calling on the phone
Except for the pope maybe in rome
I'd never really listened to the song before and I'm not sure I should have looked up the lyrics after all. All I know is that once the song seeps into your psyche for the day, you are in trouble.
Oh yeah, Bazilian also wrote the Cyndi Lauper song "Time after Time."
Things I Learned on the 2:26 am B63 bus This Morning
1. There is usually only one person or less on that bus at any given time.
2. The bus driver likes it that way.
3. The bus driver on this route likes to make a pit stop at the bagel store between President and Carroll Streets.
4. The bus driver will offer to pick something up for you at the bagel store while you sit on the bus.
5. If you drive the late shift, you get paid more than the day shift- 30 dollars an hour.
6. Brooklyn bus drivers get paid more than Manhattan bus drivers for less aggravation.
2. The bus driver likes it that way.
3. The bus driver on this route likes to make a pit stop at the bagel store between President and Carroll Streets.
4. The bus driver will offer to pick something up for you at the bagel store while you sit on the bus.
5. If you drive the late shift, you get paid more than the day shift- 30 dollars an hour.
6. Brooklyn bus drivers get paid more than Manhattan bus drivers for less aggravation.
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
Sniffing Glue
Due to rain, tonight's Old 97's show was in the Stuyvesant High School auditorium. I had never seen them before and they put on a fine show. But, does Rhett Miller actually think he looks good with his ridiculous nerdy Elvis dance moves?
Favorite part of the show: The guitarist's family was sitting in front of me. During a song where Rhett sang something about sniffing glue by the Hudson, his mom looked over at her 12 year old daughter or niece to see if she had noticed the line. Luckily for Ma Old 97, the girl was too busy playing games on her cell phone to notice.
Favorite part of the show: The guitarist's family was sitting in front of me. During a song where Rhett sang something about sniffing glue by the Hudson, his mom looked over at her 12 year old daughter or niece to see if she had noticed the line. Luckily for Ma Old 97, the girl was too busy playing games on her cell phone to notice.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Baseball Trip 2004
This year's baseball trip might or might not happen. We'll see. But if I can't make it this year, I'll have to keep myself entertained by reading the exploits of others. There is an amazing article in one of today's Seattle papers about a couple who has just completed a three year mission to visit all the major and minor league ballparks in the U.S.
The only park where they didn't root for the home team- Yankee Stadium. Nice!
Also, their website documents their trip. I wish I had known about it before. I would have definitely kept tabs on them over the past few years.
The only park where they didn't root for the home team- Yankee Stadium. Nice!
Also, their website documents their trip. I wish I had known about it before. I would have definitely kept tabs on them over the past few years.
Saturday, July 10, 2004
Clueless, Absolutely Clueless
I'm not sure if I'm getting completely old and completely out of it culturally or if I've always been oblivious.
The other night, I was coming home and I saw a number of 12-14 year olds congregating at the park. There were some hilarious mating ritual type stuff going on (one of the girls who couldn't have been older than twelve years old was wearing a super short mini-skirt and smoking a cigarette. Is it a good or bad thing that this didn't bother me? I guess I'd be a little more upset and a little less amused if that was my daughter) amongst the 8 boys and the 3 girls who were watching the boys perform their rollerblade tricks. The boys were taking turns jumping up on the handrail leading down to the park and riding it down on their rollerblades. I was completely impressed and wished that I had my camera to take some pictures for my fotolog. I imagined the kids loving the attention and posing for pictures.
When I got home I told SHR about it and how impressed I was. She stared at me for a moment before dryly saying, "Yeah, that's what the skateboarding kids do." Um, wow, I feel out of it. I've seen skateboarders do their stuff- I mean c'mon I saw "Dogtown" but I'd never seen kids do those kinds of stunts on rollerblades. My fantasy of the kids welcoming my request to take pictures was shattered. I realized they would have just made fun of me and thought I was a dumb old guy. I really am out of it. This is what happens when a person doesn't read Entertainment Weekly in a number of years, I guess.
The other night, I was coming home and I saw a number of 12-14 year olds congregating at the park. There were some hilarious mating ritual type stuff going on (one of the girls who couldn't have been older than twelve years old was wearing a super short mini-skirt and smoking a cigarette. Is it a good or bad thing that this didn't bother me? I guess I'd be a little more upset and a little less amused if that was my daughter) amongst the 8 boys and the 3 girls who were watching the boys perform their rollerblade tricks. The boys were taking turns jumping up on the handrail leading down to the park and riding it down on their rollerblades. I was completely impressed and wished that I had my camera to take some pictures for my fotolog. I imagined the kids loving the attention and posing for pictures.
When I got home I told SHR about it and how impressed I was. She stared at me for a moment before dryly saying, "Yeah, that's what the skateboarding kids do." Um, wow, I feel out of it. I've seen skateboarders do their stuff- I mean c'mon I saw "Dogtown" but I'd never seen kids do those kinds of stunts on rollerblades. My fantasy of the kids welcoming my request to take pictures was shattered. I realized they would have just made fun of me and thought I was a dumb old guy. I really am out of it. This is what happens when a person doesn't read Entertainment Weekly in a number of years, I guess.
Thursday, July 08, 2004
Too Bad Decoursy Doesn't Read My Blog
I'm not sure I agree with every thing in here but you've got to check out this hilarious article in the New York Sports Express on the Mets and Yankees.
What does CJ Sullivan have to say about Mr. Jeter? Read on-
After last Thursday's dramatic win over Boston, I thought the Yankees had morphed into the Airborne Rangers and Derek Jeter was like a Captain in the military and not of some capitalistic baseball team. I thought the Mets would be fired upon by the brave Captain Jeter.
Look, I like Derek Jeter. Who doesn't? Heck of a player. Got a lot of heart and class. But he dove into the stands for a baseball. He caught it and got cut and bruised up. That is it. The clucking sportswriters of New York–and you know who you are–made like Jeter was the bravest athlete since Pat Tillman was killed by friendly fire in Afghanistan. Hell, I fell into plenty of chairs in my time in the Bronx and got banged up and no one thought I was brave. Or sober.
Jeter gets paid plenty to go after that ball and that he did. Good. He did his job. As did you that day. That is what he is supposed to do. Going into the Mets series opener it was like GI Jeter had come down from the mountains and was going to take his squad out to Queens to take care of the insurgent Mets. "The Catch"—and it wasn't all that great—became "the Story," as did the "amazing" fact that after all poor Derek went through, he was actually going to play against the Mets on Friday. Could it be that he just wanted to pad his already juicy HR numbers against Steve Trachsel? The writers instead went on with how great it was that Jeter would "bravely" go out on a baseball diamond after smashing his up his pretty-boy face. Please. If Jeter cleared a mosque in Kabul I would be impressed. All Derek Jeter did against Boston was catch a foul ball. End of story.
Who is Sullivan kidding? Jeter full of class? Tell that to Ken Huckaby. Journeyman catcher Huckaby injured Jeter on Opening Day '03 making a hard nosed play full of "heart." Huckaby tried to call and apologize to Jeter. Jeter's response, "He doesn't have my cell phone number." Jeter refused to give him the time of day. I guess you are only allowed to go all out if you are Derek Jeter. What an asshole.
What does CJ Sullivan have to say about Mr. Jeter? Read on-
After last Thursday's dramatic win over Boston, I thought the Yankees had morphed into the Airborne Rangers and Derek Jeter was like a Captain in the military and not of some capitalistic baseball team. I thought the Mets would be fired upon by the brave Captain Jeter.
Look, I like Derek Jeter. Who doesn't? Heck of a player. Got a lot of heart and class. But he dove into the stands for a baseball. He caught it and got cut and bruised up. That is it. The clucking sportswriters of New York–and you know who you are–made like Jeter was the bravest athlete since Pat Tillman was killed by friendly fire in Afghanistan. Hell, I fell into plenty of chairs in my time in the Bronx and got banged up and no one thought I was brave. Or sober.
Jeter gets paid plenty to go after that ball and that he did. Good. He did his job. As did you that day. That is what he is supposed to do. Going into the Mets series opener it was like GI Jeter had come down from the mountains and was going to take his squad out to Queens to take care of the insurgent Mets. "The Catch"—and it wasn't all that great—became "the Story," as did the "amazing" fact that after all poor Derek went through, he was actually going to play against the Mets on Friday. Could it be that he just wanted to pad his already juicy HR numbers against Steve Trachsel? The writers instead went on with how great it was that Jeter would "bravely" go out on a baseball diamond after smashing his up his pretty-boy face. Please. If Jeter cleared a mosque in Kabul I would be impressed. All Derek Jeter did against Boston was catch a foul ball. End of story.
Who is Sullivan kidding? Jeter full of class? Tell that to Ken Huckaby. Journeyman catcher Huckaby injured Jeter on Opening Day '03 making a hard nosed play full of "heart." Huckaby tried to call and apologize to Jeter. Jeter's response, "He doesn't have my cell phone number." Jeter refused to give him the time of day. I guess you are only allowed to go all out if you are Derek Jeter. What an asshole.
Me and My Fears
It is hot in my apartment. We have a nice air conditioner in the living room, but it doesn't quite make it all the way to the bedroom. We can't put an air conditioner in the bedroom because the only window leads out to the fire escape. Apparently, it is illegal to block a fire escape with an air conditioner in the window. This makes sense. At first, Sujan and I were thinking of breaking the law and installing it anyway, but we decided against it.
And I'm glad. Not because it wouldn't be nicer with an AC, but because I'm a big baby. There is a gate covering the window left over from the previous tenants who have two children. We could have the gate removed, but it makes me feel secure. I have enough anxieties already so why not feel secure in my bedroom? If we took that gate off and installed an air conditioner, that would make it that much easier for a bad man to climb into my bedroom while I sleep. I'm not crazy! In fact, I know of a person who was in her apartment in Baltimore when a robber/ crackhead tried to break into her apartment from the fire escape. No thanks.
Am I afraid of things because I've seen so many scary films or do I enjoy scary films because they really touch a nerve? As afraid of airplane crashes as I am, I can't get enough of that first scence in "Final Destination" or the plane crash in "Alive."
I'm much better than I used to be. When I was a little kid (4 or 5 years old), I had so many fears that I insisted that my parents stay in the guest room right next to my room until I feel asleep. If they tried to sneak downstairs when I was still awake, I'd become quite angry. I was probably 7 or 8 before I was comfortable enough to turn off the lights when I went to bed.
Things got a little better, but I remember there were two movies I saw around third grade that freaked the shit out of me to the point where I completely regressed- "American Werewolf in London" and "The Island." "Werewolf" has a dream sequence where a nice suburban family answers the doorbell and gets decimated by armed intruders with machine guns. In "The Island" a psycho sticks needles into children's eyes for some reason that I can not remember. Both of these films really tapped into my fears. I was terrified of being murdered by crazy intruders in my house.
It got worse in fifth grade. I was old enough to come home alone after school and not have to go to daycare or to a babysitter's house. I was so happy because now I could come home and watch "GI Joe" and "He-Man" in peace. But over half the time, I would hear some phantom noise and become convinced that there was a crazy person hiding upstairs who was about to come kill me. Many times (come rain, shine, or sleet) I would go outside with my homework, sit in the front yard, and wait for one of my parents to get home. The neighbors started asking questions and I would explain that I was locked out. Locked out twice a week?
My mom thought that I could be cured with some therapy. So off I went. It was fine for awhile, but the thing that I best remember from these sessions is that the therapist lent me a sharp letter opener to keep under my bed to ward off an attacker if I needed it. This really made me feel better. I put it alongside the baseball bat that I already had at the ready.
Other than the few months that "Psycho" set me back, I did get gradually better as the years went on. I grew up and I guess enough times of thinking that I was about to get murdered didn't pan out so I relaxed. I don't know.
But my fears flare up occasionally in odd ways. However, in the past few years it tends to usually be more based in the fear of the supernatural or other strangeness. There are a few instances off the top of my head and they all involve me in a semi-conscious state.
In Thailand, a few years ago, as I slept in a wood cabin on the floor in the middle of nowhere I thought I was being attacked by spirits.
And my favorite- a few years ago, I thought Marc's pager (which kept going off in the vibrate mode on his dresser which made for a super strange noise damnit!) was an alien or some shit like that. Someone must have been paging him over and over (Balgavy, we need that print of "Chocolat" to LA by tomorrow at 9 am!) and I thought the apt. was being attacked a la "V".
I did what any sensible person would do, I garnered the courage to leave the safety of my room (I'm not sure what I had in my hand to use for a weapon, my Cal Ripken autographed ball perhaps?) and check it out. In this scenario, is it better to be really quiet and hope to sneak up on the alien life form/ armed intruder or is it better to jump out quickly to scare it/him? I chose the surprise attack. Whew, no one there.
I went straight to the phone to page Marc. I'm not sure why, other than to perhaps ask him when he was going to be home so he could protect me? When his pager went off again, I probably jumped three feet in the air. I was terrified for about four seconds until I realized what the strange noise was. How fucking foolish could I be?
So other than my fear of people coming in through fire escapes, my daily fear of a catastrophic terroist attack, being absolutely convinced every time I get in a car as a passenger that my face is destined for the windshield, and my extreme paranoia of dying in a plane crash, I think I'm fairly well balanced these days. Right? How the hell have I made it this far?
And I'm glad. Not because it wouldn't be nicer with an AC, but because I'm a big baby. There is a gate covering the window left over from the previous tenants who have two children. We could have the gate removed, but it makes me feel secure. I have enough anxieties already so why not feel secure in my bedroom? If we took that gate off and installed an air conditioner, that would make it that much easier for a bad man to climb into my bedroom while I sleep. I'm not crazy! In fact, I know of a person who was in her apartment in Baltimore when a robber/ crackhead tried to break into her apartment from the fire escape. No thanks.
Am I afraid of things because I've seen so many scary films or do I enjoy scary films because they really touch a nerve? As afraid of airplane crashes as I am, I can't get enough of that first scence in "Final Destination" or the plane crash in "Alive."
I'm much better than I used to be. When I was a little kid (4 or 5 years old), I had so many fears that I insisted that my parents stay in the guest room right next to my room until I feel asleep. If they tried to sneak downstairs when I was still awake, I'd become quite angry. I was probably 7 or 8 before I was comfortable enough to turn off the lights when I went to bed.
Things got a little better, but I remember there were two movies I saw around third grade that freaked the shit out of me to the point where I completely regressed- "American Werewolf in London" and "The Island." "Werewolf" has a dream sequence where a nice suburban family answers the doorbell and gets decimated by armed intruders with machine guns. In "The Island" a psycho sticks needles into children's eyes for some reason that I can not remember. Both of these films really tapped into my fears. I was terrified of being murdered by crazy intruders in my house.
It got worse in fifth grade. I was old enough to come home alone after school and not have to go to daycare or to a babysitter's house. I was so happy because now I could come home and watch "GI Joe" and "He-Man" in peace. But over half the time, I would hear some phantom noise and become convinced that there was a crazy person hiding upstairs who was about to come kill me. Many times (come rain, shine, or sleet) I would go outside with my homework, sit in the front yard, and wait for one of my parents to get home. The neighbors started asking questions and I would explain that I was locked out. Locked out twice a week?
My mom thought that I could be cured with some therapy. So off I went. It was fine for awhile, but the thing that I best remember from these sessions is that the therapist lent me a sharp letter opener to keep under my bed to ward off an attacker if I needed it. This really made me feel better. I put it alongside the baseball bat that I already had at the ready.
Other than the few months that "Psycho" set me back, I did get gradually better as the years went on. I grew up and I guess enough times of thinking that I was about to get murdered didn't pan out so I relaxed. I don't know.
But my fears flare up occasionally in odd ways. However, in the past few years it tends to usually be more based in the fear of the supernatural or other strangeness. There are a few instances off the top of my head and they all involve me in a semi-conscious state.
In Thailand, a few years ago, as I slept in a wood cabin on the floor in the middle of nowhere I thought I was being attacked by spirits.
And my favorite- a few years ago, I thought Marc's pager (which kept going off in the vibrate mode on his dresser which made for a super strange noise damnit!) was an alien or some shit like that. Someone must have been paging him over and over (Balgavy, we need that print of "Chocolat" to LA by tomorrow at 9 am!) and I thought the apt. was being attacked a la "V".
I did what any sensible person would do, I garnered the courage to leave the safety of my room (I'm not sure what I had in my hand to use for a weapon, my Cal Ripken autographed ball perhaps?) and check it out. In this scenario, is it better to be really quiet and hope to sneak up on the alien life form/ armed intruder or is it better to jump out quickly to scare it/him? I chose the surprise attack. Whew, no one there.
I went straight to the phone to page Marc. I'm not sure why, other than to perhaps ask him when he was going to be home so he could protect me? When his pager went off again, I probably jumped three feet in the air. I was terrified for about four seconds until I realized what the strange noise was. How fucking foolish could I be?
So other than my fear of people coming in through fire escapes, my daily fear of a catastrophic terroist attack, being absolutely convinced every time I get in a car as a passenger that my face is destined for the windshield, and my extreme paranoia of dying in a plane crash, I think I'm fairly well balanced these days. Right? How the hell have I made it this far?
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
It Must Be Nice to Have Such An Inflated View of Yourself
In yesterday's Yankees- Tigers game, Ivan Rodriguez was hit by a pitch in possible retaliation for the the plunking of Alex Rodriguez the night before. Tiger Bobby Higginson said, "No question. He's our best player. Alex is their best player. That's baseball. I just know. I've been here nine years, and I'm usually the one that has to get hit."
Um, excuse me? This is coming from a guy who has averaged 13 homers, 62 rbis, and a .262 batting avg. over the past three years. The best player on the team? I think not. The most overpaid? Definitely.
Um, excuse me? This is coming from a guy who has averaged 13 homers, 62 rbis, and a .262 batting avg. over the past three years. The best player on the team? I think not. The most overpaid? Definitely.
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
Stuff Like This Makes Me Mad
In today's NY Times, there is a short article in the Science section about a study that tries to connect the dots between children who see R-rated movies and children who smoke. Guess what? There is a link. Wow.
From the article:
Of the 399 children in the survey with nonsmoking parents who were not allowed to see R-rated movies, 3, or less than 1 percent, tried smoking. By contrast, 10 percent of the children of nonsmokers who saw R-rated movies more than occasionally tried smoking.
Dr. Sargent said the gap suggested that the on-screen example had a bigger effect in nonsmoking households. But smoking by parents, he added, also set a powerful bad example that was worsened by R-rated movies; 17 percent of the children of smokers who often saw such movies tried smoking.
Many people I know get very angry at things like traffic or politics or sports. I get steamed at this sort of study. I can't believe money is actually being spent on this nonsense. I guess we better not let anyone under the age of 17 watch "Casablanca" or "Citizen Kane"- there's an awful lot of cigarette smoking in those socially dangerous films.
From the article:
Of the 399 children in the survey with nonsmoking parents who were not allowed to see R-rated movies, 3, or less than 1 percent, tried smoking. By contrast, 10 percent of the children of nonsmokers who saw R-rated movies more than occasionally tried smoking.
Dr. Sargent said the gap suggested that the on-screen example had a bigger effect in nonsmoking households. But smoking by parents, he added, also set a powerful bad example that was worsened by R-rated movies; 17 percent of the children of smokers who often saw such movies tried smoking.
Many people I know get very angry at things like traffic or politics or sports. I get steamed at this sort of study. I can't believe money is actually being spent on this nonsense. I guess we better not let anyone under the age of 17 watch "Casablanca" or "Citizen Kane"- there's an awful lot of cigarette smoking in those socially dangerous films.
Summer Dan Becomes Testosterone Dan For A Day
This past Saturday, me and my New York Posse headed south to the City of Brotherly Love where we hooked up with our Philly crew and our Maryland squad for an evening of baseball, booze, and meat consumption.
The New York crew headed down in a badass big black SUV. We were riding in style and we were riding higher than all the other suckers in their low riding Camrys and Lancers. We could have fucking crushed any bastards on the road that got in our way. U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A!
We all convened at the statue of head commando Steve Carlton. I wanted to do some paramilitary exercises after just a few moments next to Mr. Carlton’s likeness.
At the game, there were some Abercrombie and Fitch type jokers in front of us. 19-year-old chumps who wouldn’t know class if it bit them on their Marlton, New Jersey assess. They thought they were flying high because some how a couple of these clowns ended up with beer.
In the top of the 9th, my lady cried out “Phillies Suck!” to counterbalance the “Let’s Go Phillies” chants. My lady is full of spark, being a New York girl, and is used to responding to chants of “Let’s Go Yankees” with chants of “Yankees Suck!” But I guess these jokers couldn’t take it.
One of them flipped my lady the bird behind his back! The chump didn’t even have the decency to give her the finger to her face. She gave this classless bastard a taste of his own medicine and that was that. Or it was until pinch hitter Javy Lopez struck out to end the game. They turned around and started giving my woman the finger and mocking us.
You don’t do that to me, my lady, or any of my New York crew (except for maybe Balgavy who deserved it, that guy was definitely not representing for Brooklyn on this evening) and get away with that. I stepped up to defend my woman’s honor. And if it weren’t for my auntie, my sweet little sister, and my dear ol’ pops there, I would have busted some heads. The assholes sauntered home to their moms and my crew went out to party.
After cruising the Philly strip for a spell, we headed home. As I drifted off to sleep close to 5 a.m., I noticed that new Russian Wimbledon champion and I thought to myself, “Damn, that is one fine honey.”
For Sujan's take on the night events, read this.
The New York crew headed down in a badass big black SUV. We were riding in style and we were riding higher than all the other suckers in their low riding Camrys and Lancers. We could have fucking crushed any bastards on the road that got in our way. U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A!
We all convened at the statue of head commando Steve Carlton. I wanted to do some paramilitary exercises after just a few moments next to Mr. Carlton’s likeness.
At the game, there were some Abercrombie and Fitch type jokers in front of us. 19-year-old chumps who wouldn’t know class if it bit them on their Marlton, New Jersey assess. They thought they were flying high because some how a couple of these clowns ended up with beer.
In the top of the 9th, my lady cried out “Phillies Suck!” to counterbalance the “Let’s Go Phillies” chants. My lady is full of spark, being a New York girl, and is used to responding to chants of “Let’s Go Yankees” with chants of “Yankees Suck!” But I guess these jokers couldn’t take it.
One of them flipped my lady the bird behind his back! The chump didn’t even have the decency to give her the finger to her face. She gave this classless bastard a taste of his own medicine and that was that. Or it was until pinch hitter Javy Lopez struck out to end the game. They turned around and started giving my woman the finger and mocking us.
You don’t do that to me, my lady, or any of my New York crew (except for maybe Balgavy who deserved it, that guy was definitely not representing for Brooklyn on this evening) and get away with that. I stepped up to defend my woman’s honor. And if it weren’t for my auntie, my sweet little sister, and my dear ol’ pops there, I would have busted some heads. The assholes sauntered home to their moms and my crew went out to party.
After cruising the Philly strip for a spell, we headed home. As I drifted off to sleep close to 5 a.m., I noticed that new Russian Wimbledon champion and I thought to myself, “Damn, that is one fine honey.”
For Sujan's take on the night events, read this.
Friday, July 02, 2004
Nine-Teen-Eight-Teen
So I went to that Yankees- Red Sox game last night. It almost didn't happen.
I bought the tickets back in April for Jamie and me. However, he had decided not to go to Yankee Stadium this year so no Jamie.
Luckily, Alex B. decided he would like to go to the biggest game of his young baseball fandom. We met for a movie at Film Forum ("The Corporation") that I found quite appropriate considering we were about to go see the most corporate team imaginable. After the movie, we almost decided not to go to the game.
Upon arriving in the Bronx, we almost decided to sell our tickets. Instead we went to McDonald's (my second time since seeing "Super Size Me") and bought some food to bring to the game.
It was a mess outside the stadium. Half the fans were wearing "1918" shirts or "Babe, Bucky, Boone" shirts or "Red Sux" shirts. Nice. I deliberately didn't bring a bag to the game because I was so sick of the ridiculous request to empty all my stuff into a clear plastic bag. I couldn't imagine that I was going to be asked to put my McDonald's into a clear bag, but I was. Unbelievable.
The father and young son in front of me weren't allowed into the park (counterfeit tickets?) and the guy to my left wearing a "Red Sox Sucks" shirt was told he had to turn his shirt inside out because of the profanity on his shirt? What? Are we in Tampa?
Alex and I had great seats right behind home plate in the first row of the cheap seats. The third batter for the Yankees, Gary Sheffield, stepped out with a 2-2 count right before Pedro could throw. I thought, "Pedro is definitely going to hit him with the next pitch." Sure enough, bam, right in the back. The fans went nuts and Alex commented that it felt like a big English football match, more so than any other game he'd ever been into. I started fantasizing about a great fight where Derek Jeter would get his pretty face all messed up- but that would have to wait for later.
Pedro settled down, but the Yankees didn't. Two homeruns in the first five innings gave them a 3-0 lead. Boston came back to tie it in the 6th and 7th.
Then things started to get really crazy. Both teams kept wasting opportunities to take the lead from the 8th through the 12th innings. In the 11th, the Red Sox loaded the bases with no outs and I thought, "Here comes a triple play." And sure enough, it seemed for a second that the Yankees had turned a triple play on an amazing grab by Alex Rodriguez who touched third to force Manny, threw home for the 2nd out, and then received the throw from home to tag out the third out, who was also the first out. Huh? Everyone was so amazed at the play that they hadn't noticed that the runner that Rodriguez had tagged out for the last out was Manny Ramirez who was the runner he had forced out for the first out and was simply heading back to the dugout.
In the top of the 12th, Derek Jeter made a pretty amazing catch to end the inning as he catapulted into the stands, bloodying his pretty face in the act. It is pretty telling that Jeter will kill himself for a play like that while Mia Hamm's boy Nomar sat on the bench all night.
In the bottom of the 12th, the Yankees had a runner on 3rd with no outs and the Red Sox employed the old seven man infield play that never seems to work. Kevin Millar kept shifting between the left side and right sides of the infield, and the outfield- each time needing a new glove. It was a funny sight to see him and another Red Sox (I can't remember who it was) keep running to the line to get a new glove tossed at him from a coach. At one point, the glove that the player threw collided in mid-air with the glove the coach threw. That drew a cheer and broke the unbelievable tension for a spell.
With no outs, pinch hitter Giambi had no chance against Leskanic or the parasites eating away at his already toxic insides. As an aside, I hope for the best for Mr. Giambi and also his lovely teammate Kevin Brown who has also been diagnosed with parasites. Do you think he has it written in his contract that his parasites get an extra private jet ride too?
With one out, Leskanic hit Sheffield which incensed Torre, but not Sheffield. He was quoted as saying that Leskanic's brother "put in my pool at my house, so there's a friendship there." Then for the intentional walk to A-Rod, Millar headed back to the outfield and had to get a new glove to do it. Then after the intentional walk, he came back to the infield, again changing gloves. What? Was it really necessary to change gloves for an intentional walk? Somehow the Red Sox got out of the inning intact.
After the 12th, Alex left for the evening. There was no way I was going to take off with a game like this going on. And when Manny hit his second homer of the game in the 13th to give the Red Sox a 4-3 lead, I was so damn happy, but still quite uneasy. Also, in the 13th, Alex Rodriguez got to play short for the first time as a Yankee and Gary Sheffield played third for the first time since he looked like this.
In the bottom of the 13th, with Ruben Sierra at first, and Miguel Cairo (Miguel Cairo?!) at the plate with two strikes and two outs, Curtis Leskanic could not put him away. He doubled past Millar and Sierra came all the way home from first base.
Next up, John Flaherty (John Flaherty?!) pinch hitting for the pitcher Tanyon Sturtze (don't ask) who, of course, drove in Cairo with a smash past Manny Ramirez. I couldn't believe it, but, of course, I could. It was the Yankees beating the Red Sox, it was all so preordained.
I headed to the subway drunk on baseball glory and Yankee agony. The many Boston fans in the crowd seemed too stunned to be upset. I consoled a couple of them, but there was nothing to say other than, "Yeah, I hate the Yankees too."
When I got back to Brooklyn, I checked my messages and there was one from Alex. He said that he heard the roar of the crowd when Manny hit his homerun in the 13th and was sad that he hadn't stayed another twenty minutes. A wonderful moment in time captured on my voicemail, before the inevitable fall. He's British, he doesn't know you shouldn't count the Yankees out against the Red Sox with only a one run lead.
For a great recap of the game check out this great article from The Hardball Times.
File this one away as "Don't need to read this when Dan posts it in his year end review, Part II."
On another note, I'm so sick of writers and "experts" badmouthing Bill James, Billy Beane, and Theo Epstein. Last year, everyone badmouthed the Red Sox for their ill-fated attempt to have a closer by committee. It didn't work, not because the idea was flawed, but because they simply didn't have good relievers at the beginning of the year. If I recall correctly, the early 90's Pirates had a closer by committee situation led by the inscrutable Bill Landrum that worked well.
Last night, Terry Francona brought in his closer Keith Foulke in a 3-3 game in the 8th. This made sense. But, many managers might have saved their best reliever until they had a lead so they could protect it. All that Epstein was saying last year was that he didn't want his team to be hamstrung by the doctrine created by Tony Larussa that you only bring in your closer to start the 9th inning while protecting a lead. All Epstein is espousing is a return to the way bullpens were used in the 70's through the late 80's before Larussa ruined baseball.
In today's Times, Murray Chass talks about how the Red Sox are ill conceived because they have deliberately not signed good defensive players because the Red Sox are against good defense. What? What was the signing of Pokey Reese? Know what the hell you are talking about before you write it, Murray! Gary Sheffield and Jason Giambi are terrible defensively. Kenny Lofton can't throw and Jorge Posada is afraid to block the plate. And I don't care about that catch last night; the best defensive shortstop in baseball should not be playing at third. Sigh.
I bought the tickets back in April for Jamie and me. However, he had decided not to go to Yankee Stadium this year so no Jamie.
Luckily, Alex B. decided he would like to go to the biggest game of his young baseball fandom. We met for a movie at Film Forum ("The Corporation") that I found quite appropriate considering we were about to go see the most corporate team imaginable. After the movie, we almost decided not to go to the game.
Upon arriving in the Bronx, we almost decided to sell our tickets. Instead we went to McDonald's (my second time since seeing "Super Size Me") and bought some food to bring to the game.
It was a mess outside the stadium. Half the fans were wearing "1918" shirts or "Babe, Bucky, Boone" shirts or "Red Sux" shirts. Nice. I deliberately didn't bring a bag to the game because I was so sick of the ridiculous request to empty all my stuff into a clear plastic bag. I couldn't imagine that I was going to be asked to put my McDonald's into a clear bag, but I was. Unbelievable.
The father and young son in front of me weren't allowed into the park (counterfeit tickets?) and the guy to my left wearing a "Red Sox Sucks" shirt was told he had to turn his shirt inside out because of the profanity on his shirt? What? Are we in Tampa?
Alex and I had great seats right behind home plate in the first row of the cheap seats. The third batter for the Yankees, Gary Sheffield, stepped out with a 2-2 count right before Pedro could throw. I thought, "Pedro is definitely going to hit him with the next pitch." Sure enough, bam, right in the back. The fans went nuts and Alex commented that it felt like a big English football match, more so than any other game he'd ever been into. I started fantasizing about a great fight where Derek Jeter would get his pretty face all messed up- but that would have to wait for later.
Pedro settled down, but the Yankees didn't. Two homeruns in the first five innings gave them a 3-0 lead. Boston came back to tie it in the 6th and 7th.
Then things started to get really crazy. Both teams kept wasting opportunities to take the lead from the 8th through the 12th innings. In the 11th, the Red Sox loaded the bases with no outs and I thought, "Here comes a triple play." And sure enough, it seemed for a second that the Yankees had turned a triple play on an amazing grab by Alex Rodriguez who touched third to force Manny, threw home for the 2nd out, and then received the throw from home to tag out the third out, who was also the first out. Huh? Everyone was so amazed at the play that they hadn't noticed that the runner that Rodriguez had tagged out for the last out was Manny Ramirez who was the runner he had forced out for the first out and was simply heading back to the dugout.
In the top of the 12th, Derek Jeter made a pretty amazing catch to end the inning as he catapulted into the stands, bloodying his pretty face in the act. It is pretty telling that Jeter will kill himself for a play like that while Mia Hamm's boy Nomar sat on the bench all night.
In the bottom of the 12th, the Yankees had a runner on 3rd with no outs and the Red Sox employed the old seven man infield play that never seems to work. Kevin Millar kept shifting between the left side and right sides of the infield, and the outfield- each time needing a new glove. It was a funny sight to see him and another Red Sox (I can't remember who it was) keep running to the line to get a new glove tossed at him from a coach. At one point, the glove that the player threw collided in mid-air with the glove the coach threw. That drew a cheer and broke the unbelievable tension for a spell.
With no outs, pinch hitter Giambi had no chance against Leskanic or the parasites eating away at his already toxic insides. As an aside, I hope for the best for Mr. Giambi and also his lovely teammate Kevin Brown who has also been diagnosed with parasites. Do you think he has it written in his contract that his parasites get an extra private jet ride too?
With one out, Leskanic hit Sheffield which incensed Torre, but not Sheffield. He was quoted as saying that Leskanic's brother "put in my pool at my house, so there's a friendship there." Then for the intentional walk to A-Rod, Millar headed back to the outfield and had to get a new glove to do it. Then after the intentional walk, he came back to the infield, again changing gloves. What? Was it really necessary to change gloves for an intentional walk? Somehow the Red Sox got out of the inning intact.
After the 12th, Alex left for the evening. There was no way I was going to take off with a game like this going on. And when Manny hit his second homer of the game in the 13th to give the Red Sox a 4-3 lead, I was so damn happy, but still quite uneasy. Also, in the 13th, Alex Rodriguez got to play short for the first time as a Yankee and Gary Sheffield played third for the first time since he looked like this.
In the bottom of the 13th, with Ruben Sierra at first, and Miguel Cairo (Miguel Cairo?!) at the plate with two strikes and two outs, Curtis Leskanic could not put him away. He doubled past Millar and Sierra came all the way home from first base.
Next up, John Flaherty (John Flaherty?!) pinch hitting for the pitcher Tanyon Sturtze (don't ask) who, of course, drove in Cairo with a smash past Manny Ramirez. I couldn't believe it, but, of course, I could. It was the Yankees beating the Red Sox, it was all so preordained.
I headed to the subway drunk on baseball glory and Yankee agony. The many Boston fans in the crowd seemed too stunned to be upset. I consoled a couple of them, but there was nothing to say other than, "Yeah, I hate the Yankees too."
When I got back to Brooklyn, I checked my messages and there was one from Alex. He said that he heard the roar of the crowd when Manny hit his homerun in the 13th and was sad that he hadn't stayed another twenty minutes. A wonderful moment in time captured on my voicemail, before the inevitable fall. He's British, he doesn't know you shouldn't count the Yankees out against the Red Sox with only a one run lead.
For a great recap of the game check out this great article from The Hardball Times.
File this one away as "Don't need to read this when Dan posts it in his year end review, Part II."
On another note, I'm so sick of writers and "experts" badmouthing Bill James, Billy Beane, and Theo Epstein. Last year, everyone badmouthed the Red Sox for their ill-fated attempt to have a closer by committee. It didn't work, not because the idea was flawed, but because they simply didn't have good relievers at the beginning of the year. If I recall correctly, the early 90's Pirates had a closer by committee situation led by the inscrutable Bill Landrum that worked well.
Last night, Terry Francona brought in his closer Keith Foulke in a 3-3 game in the 8th. This made sense. But, many managers might have saved their best reliever until they had a lead so they could protect it. All that Epstein was saying last year was that he didn't want his team to be hamstrung by the doctrine created by Tony Larussa that you only bring in your closer to start the 9th inning while protecting a lead. All Epstein is espousing is a return to the way bullpens were used in the 70's through the late 80's before Larussa ruined baseball.
In today's Times, Murray Chass talks about how the Red Sox are ill conceived because they have deliberately not signed good defensive players because the Red Sox are against good defense. What? What was the signing of Pokey Reese? Know what the hell you are talking about before you write it, Murray! Gary Sheffield and Jason Giambi are terrible defensively. Kenny Lofton can't throw and Jorge Posada is afraid to block the plate. And I don't care about that catch last night; the best defensive shortstop in baseball should not be playing at third. Sigh.
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