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

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

One Step Forward, One Step Back

(photo from Boston.com)

I feel like we're all friends here. Like I can level with you people. Like I can tell you that after A-Rod hit that 3-run homer last night (again, way to go, Mr. Clutch), I might've flipped over to free Comcast karaoke to try my hand at some singing.

Now, before you click out of this page in disgust, let me explain. There's a reason for this. Three reasons, actually. Reason the first is that when the Red Sox are losing to the Yankees, it makes me sad and it's not good for my blood pressure to watch A-Rod trot around the bases like a show pony. Reason the second is that after watching that idiot who will likely become our next American Idol before fading into obscurity in the easy listening bins with his Michael McDonald impersonation that he so richly deserves, I wanted to screech my own vocal stylings at the television. And reason the third is...well, margaritas.

I blame Amy entirely. It is all her fault. Do not let her make you a drink. Especially if you've not eaten for some time. I'm just sayin', could be dangerous.

The stuffed blue football I mentioned yesterday got a bit of a workout last night, mostly tossed in the general direction of all things Yankee and particularly Damon. I might have also let fly with a rude comment about Dougie's "robust .163 batting average." I didn't mean it. I was speaking from a place of anger. And also tequila.

All in all, it was just a supremely frustrating game. Especially when Manny launched that bomb to bring us within two only to let it get away at the end there. Though I'd venture a guess that no one is more frustrated at this point than Wakefield. Poor guy. I just want to give him a juice box and a hug and tell him to take a nice, long nap.

So tonight it's back at it. Matty vs. the decimated corpse of Randy Johnson. Marianne and I will be in the bleachers, doing our best to avoid getting arrested. I make no promises as this time, I won't have "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" in the style of Poison via Comcast to distract me.