"Hell may have no fury like a woman scorned but heaven hath no sweetness like a sports fan vindicated." - Samcat

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Red Sox Catcher Blood Feud Update

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(The answer is, what Dougie hits)

This is getting out of hand. Everyone under the sun seems to know that the second Dougie's grand slam landed in the Comerica outfield stands, my brother would be calling me. He did not disappoint.

Me: Dougie!
Kev: I believe that's worth four runs.
Me: That was most excellent.
Kev: I broke out the jersey today. For good luck. The mojo's working.
Me: No wonder he's been sucking wind this season, no jersey mojo.
Kev: He's DHing. That's awesome.
Me: Terry's a goddamned genius. I've been saying he should DH Dougie forever.
Kev: Sure you have.
Me: Dougie!
Kev: He's the man.

But for real, I've been saying for ages that Terry should either DH or pinch hit Dougie in the late innings. Admittedly, DHing is hard since that's Papi's job and damned if you want to fight that man for anything. And you don't want to run out of catchers in a pinch because - and I'm not certain of this - but I believe Millar is our third string catcher. *peers through covered eyes* Amusingly, Papi pinch hit for Dougie in the late innings. In and amongst Don O and RemDawg's assertions that Dougie must be pissed, I had the following conversation with Amy.

Me: How you gonna pinch hit for Dougie? Dougie gone be pissed. He gone be all, "Brother, please. You gonna pinch hit for my grand slamma ramma jamma? Pshaw."
Amy: You took the words right out of my mouth.

The game? Oh yeah, we won. Of note, Trot dropped his suspension appeal and started serving his two games tonight. Makes sense with two lefties coming up. So we got to see Jay Payton whom I grow to love more and more every day. According to Katherine, he is her favorite baseball player because he looks like Jerome Bettis, her favorite football player. You think? You be the judge:

He ain't no Dave Roberts, but he'll do. (Psst, Katherine is a Steelers fan. Let's all make fun of her).

Speaking of Dave Roberts, I have found a new apartment and will be moving June 1st! (Bear with me here, I'll get to Dave Roberts). I'll be living with Colleen in Brookline and it will be greatness. Now, I just need to convince her to allow me to get a cat. Because I can have one per the landlord. I've decided that I need to get two cats. A fast one that I will name Dave Roberts and a fat one to be christened Rich Garces. What do we think? This conversation originated around 2am last Friday morning in a cab from the South End to Brookline so you'll forgive me if it's not completely coherent. But I think the idea is spectacular.

But Dave Roberts had nothing to do with tonight's game. And if you ask me, the game was the poorer for it. But let's focus on who did do well. Mr. John Halama, you get a cookie and a tall glass of milk. Nice work. Glad to see that your Eyebrows of Doom were a fearsome enough presence to keep the Tigers in check.



As I was saying, good show, boys. This is what I like to see. Loading the bases and not pussyfooting around, nibbling, perhaps getting one run, but maybe, you know, actually no, none is fine too. But instead having our backup catcher stride to the plate, gansta style sans batting gloves, Soul Patch of Doom at the ready, and smacking that bitch of a baseball into the left center stands. Hell yeah, we'll take all four runs. AND YOU WILL GIVE THEM TO US WITH A SMILE!

Wake goes tomorrow which puts Dougie right back in the lineup. I heard a disturbing bit about Wake twisting his ankle and having it taped yesterday* but I choose to adhere to the "If I don't know about it, it's not happening" school of philosophy on that one. Because I cannot handle that. At all.

Also, the sight of Papi in a Parka never ceases to bring the happy.

At the risk of Sam's head exploding with dual love for both teams, let's keep it going tomorrow boys. Keep it rollin'.

*Apparently, he's fine. Apparently.