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

Tuesday, June 26, 2007


I don't want to talk about the game. Not because the occasional Tavarez meltdown is so difficult to handle - I mean, dude's a fifth starter, we knew what we were getting - but because the morphing of Mike Timlin into batting practice machine is just heartbreaking. And by "heartbreaking" I mean, actually kind of terrifying because if anyone is gonna snap after giving up a home run and tackle the hitter 2/3 of the way through his home run trot and hogtie him on the bases and threaten to remove his toenails with pliers, I'm pretty sure it's Mike Timlin. And I'm not sure that Theo practiced that kind of law at Yale.

In related news; I'm still on drugs.

Drugs which are leading me to have fevered dreams, I'm afraid. Dreams in which Josh Beckett and Jonathan Papelbon have epic video game tournaments, constantly besting each other at old school Duck Hunt (Papelbon's specialty) and Mario Kart (Beckett holds the high score.) I think these two have missed a team bus more than once because they've been so caught up in their video game duels. They probably refer to each other on the field as like "Luigi" and "Koopa" or something. Except for when Beckett needs Papelbon to save a game for him. Then Paps calls Beckett, "Princess Peach" because of that whiny princess that always needed to be rescued.

Yes, I did a Wikipedia search for "Super Mario Bros." Why do you ask?

So I think the next time a game looks to be getting out of hand, instead of forcing us all to watch the Timlin meltdown turned episode of Dog the Bounty Hunter (I have watched a lot of bad TV these past few days, people), we are instead treated to the latest installment of Video Game Wars, starring Jonathan Papelbon and Josh Beckett. Wouldn't we all prefer to see that? I thought so.

So...more drugs?