Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Six-pack of that swill I was served last night when I ordered a Pabst! At least the pizza only cost $2.

Why is it I expect the Boston Herald to have a headline reading: Widescale Panic Grips the Hub. The Red Sox lost a couple games. Well, darn, with Manny out (yeah, that was a great trade I made in fantasy baseball to get him from Chazer. It ranks up there with my desperation deal I made when I had six position players on the DL, no one available on waivers, and I unloaded Ichiro for Kelly Johnson, Jeff Francoeur, some relief pitcher, and a ham sandwich. I was obviously either drinking too little or too much at the time.), Youk still hurt, Coco with a bad back, Pedroia slowed, and even Ellsbury sporting some boo-boos (to say nothing about Varitek taking his usual September trip to the outhouse) and Oki-Doki worn out like (nope, just going to stop there before I write something about Britney Spears that is totally inappropriate).

The Patriots broke the rules. Yup, and I damned proud that they did. Anyone who remembers 1982 (heck, 1991 for that matter) absolves the entire organization of any and all media backlash. I have already made clear my opinions about the jealous writers both locally and nationally taking vindictive pot shots at Bill Belichick (and the real sleazy ones going after Bob Kraft), but everyone wants that coach that does whatever it takes to atone for that stinker in the rain against the Jets last year. Yes, he was wrong to flout the rule and more than paid the price, but who is going to convince me that this was not a lesson imparted by the Big Tuna way back when?

The Celtics season is over. Greg Oden is out for the year and…what? We never drafted him? We traded some jamoke at number five for Ray Allen who subsequently convinced his buddy Kevin Garnett to come to Boston after Danny Ainge traded Big Al and a bucket of fish to Minnesota? No, seriously, like that would ever happen.

Rumor has it that there is a hockey team that plays at the Garden when the Celtics are not there. I know, that is about as believable as Boston ever getting a damned arena football team. I remember my Dad talking about hockey in Boston, but it seemed like a fairy tale.

Brazil versus Mexico? How the heck did I not end up with tickets? Or are pasty white guys who loudly shout about the dominance of English soccer in that kind of environment (You, Gallagher, and me, Brigs) banned from Gillette Stadium in those circumstances for their own stadium?

The Revs are still going, baby. Injuries are nothing to this team. Suspend the coach? Who cares? This team is the REAL pride of New England!

HUB OF THE UNIVERSE

Well, for one night at least Boston lived up to its lofty and pretentious title as the entire sports world focused on the Patriots-Chargers AFC Divisional Playoff match-up and the rubber game in Fenway between the Yankees and Red Sox as the GreyBeards battled on the mound.

As the national press continued to take their shots at Bill Belichick as he stood in the middle of the ring like a boxer with no defense, the Patriots players came out and made a statement about who they were and will be this season as they treated a 2006 playoff team like a doormat for the second week in a row.

After exposing the ManGenius as a fraud in the Meadowlands last week, Tom Brady and the offensive supporting cast dominated another top ranked defense. Norv Turner and his crew tried to make headway against the Patriots vaunted defense (this defense is dying for a nickname--but somehow I draw a blank thinking of something witty to make-up for them).
After a first half where the Patriots played with the vaunted Bolts defense like a cat with a mouse (well, not like my cat. Slim Mimit probably would run and hide under the blankets if a mouse got into the house), the Chargers mounted a comeback of sorts in the second half, scoring on both 3rd quarter drives.

Unfortunately, in between them the Patriots methodically marched down the gridiron for another score. After a gift from Ellis Hobbs after the second touchdown where Mr. Dynamite fumbled the kickoff return, the defense came to life. With the ball at the Patriots 31, did offensive genius Norv Turner call in the battering ram and run the fresh legs of Michael Turner down the Patriots throats? No, he called back-to-back passes which resulted in two sacks and the Chargers back on their side of the field facing a third and thirty. From there, it was time to switch to the Sox game.

In the match-up of the once and future Sox, Roger Clemens (aka the Texas Con Man) and Curt Schilling (aka the Big Schill) matched-up for six scintillating innings. After the Sox wasted a lead-off double by Eric Hinske off Joba Chamberlain in the seventh, the Yankees struck for three when the accursed Derek Jeter launched a three-run homer off a hanging slider and put the Yankers up 4-1. Mikie Lowell got one back in the eighth by crushing the myth of Joba by
launching a bomb over the monster. In the bottom nine the Sox had a perfect scenario: down by one, bases loaded, and Big Papi up to face the greatest relief pitcher ever, Mariano Rivera. Alas, it was not to be as the Big Guy popped to Jeter and the game was over.

Not to impinge on Ken Tremendous and the crew at FireJoeMorgan.com, but I nearly launched an empty beer bottle through the television when Joe "The Idiot from the Big Red Machine, not the Magic Walpole Joe" Morgan said as the Yankees had runners on second and third and one out and actually uttered: "I don't understand why the Red Sox infield is playing in instead of back for a possible double-play."

Hmmm, Joe. I don't know? Maybe because without the force-out there is no freaking double-play! You stupid idiot, go read a book and get off the air. Harold Reynolds gets jobbed from ESPN for allegedly grabbing ass (if guilty, yes he deserved to go) and this idiot insults the intelligence of the audience on a weekly basis and they still keep trotting him out with the excellent Jon Miller. How Miller has restrained from strangling the idiot is beyond me.

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