Following the finding of the lost Book of Judas, I have decided to publish the following text I found in a lost Biblical scroll that I translate from Aramaic:
On the fifth day, the Captain of the troops will rest and the other from the West shall receive in his Wake.
Who am I to tempt fate and deny the return of Doug Mirabelli to spell Jason Varitek every fifth day and catch Tim Wakefield? While the contrived argument of the Dennis & Callahan show (which, let us face it, is only worth listening to hear what Jon Meterparel has to say since he is only one not handed a script apparently) was the State Police detail assigned to Doug Mirabelli. Sure, I would have loved to see him enter the game in the third inning, but, harkening back to my days in Babe Ruth League (yeah, we are talking the Dark Ages here, like the late 1980s) when we would pile out of the car for an all-star game on the Cape in full uniform right before the game started, it was still pretty dramatic to have Tom Caron and the NESN crew on full Dougie Watch.
Back to celebrity for Mirabelli, although I guess he is safe for a while from Carson from the Queer Eye show sniffing his jockstrap and following him around like a lovesick puppy. While I admire Mirabelli for his ability to handle Wakefield, no one is going to tell me it was a bad trade to unload him for Mark Loretta. Although I must admit I get the horrible vision of Billy Preston singing Get Back in Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band movie, which, yes, was the movie I subjected the family to this weekend, whenever I hear the announcers mention Loretta. Get Back, Loretta!
Not to get off on a tangent, but regarding the Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band movie starring the Bee Gees and Peter Frampton back in the late seventies: Oh my God. George Burns rapping, Steve Martin incomprehensible, Aerosmith rocking, Frampton coming alive, and the Bee Gees all in one fantastic movie where they crank out classic Beatles tunes? It is almost too much to comprehend. Cameos and guest spots abound, literally a roll call of the Studio 54 days. I think Hal the Fourth, all of four years old, summed up the movie perfectly: Dad, he said, they are singing these Beatles songs all wrong!
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Of course, the next night is a rain-out. Sox Sweep Yankees in One-Game Series! I tried to sneak in another horrible movie: Anaconda, which starred a pre-fame/pre-plastic surgery J.Lo, Ice What the F#$& and I Doing in this Movie Cube, Eric In Every Movie in the Early Eighties Stoll or Stroll or Stohl or something like that, and Mr. I am the Dad of Angelina Jolie. Why the Formerly Boston Sports Guy has not written numerous articles about this movie and its even funnier (at least unintentionally) sequel is beyond me. Those two movies are just beyond shlock. Of course, my kinder spirit prevailed and I let Kat switch to something bearable to watch.
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