NFL Picks from Jersey
| Glad to be back here again. Watched the Red Sox parade this morning - just one more sign that this was destined to be the year: the forecast for today called for rain all day long. Sonehow, it managed to stop about twenty minutes before the "Rolling Rally" started, and has resumed raining just after it finished. Perfect. I'm just quickly going to post this week's NFL picks before going back to bed and catching up on all of the sleep I've lost over the past month... BUFFALO (-3) over Arizona Detroit (+3) over DALLAS TENNESSEE (-3) over Cincinnati Indianapolis (-1) over KANSAS CITY MINNESOTA (-6.5) over New York Giants Baltimore (+7.5) over PHILADELPHIA Green Bay (-1.5) over WASHINGTON Jacksonville (+1) over HOUSTON Carolina (+8.5) over SEATTLE DENVER (-7) over Atlanta New England (-3) over PITTSBURGH SAN DIEGO (-6) over Oakland San Francisco (+2) over CHICAGO NEW YORK JETS (-6) over Miami Next week I'll actually have sonething worthwhile to say... |
2004 World Series - Victory
I'm not dreaming, right? I did just watch the Red Sox win a World Series? Because I just woke up, and it's probably the most perfect October day I've ever seen, and everything that happened in the last 12 hours really just feels like it was a dream. And if that's the case, then I sure hope I put a "Do Not Disturb" sign outside my door.
I'm writing from my friend Jay's apartment in Watertown. He went to work - I slept in, folded up the air mattress, called in, and started writing. Seems about right.
Here's a quick recap of what I remember from last night (not due to excessive drinking, just too much emotion):
Captain Caveman teed off on a pitch in the first. I don't think anybody, not even Mark Bellhorn, has had a turnaround in the playoffs like Damon has had. Not much was expected of Bellhorn. Johnny Damon is the leadoff batter, and is expected to be on base four out of every ten times.
Somewhere around the fourth inning, I started thinking that with a World Series victory, Boston could very well explode. I actually mentioned that I wouldn't be surprised to learn that the celebration in the Hub might register on the Richter Scale.
In the eighth inning I remember telling my friend Don that we were going to have to go through the hearts of the Cardinals order to end this thing in a 3-run game, and that scared the hell out of me. Later in the eighth, I mentioned that the final out really needed to go 6-3 (Cabrera to Mientkiewicz) in order to really close out the season and finalize everything. After Pujols singled in the ninth, Don said "How about Cabrera - Pokey - Mientkiewicz?"
As Keith Foulke squeezed a little dribbler and flipped to first, I don't remember my reaction much. I think I collapsed a little and was more or less held up by my friends. Surprisingly, I think this is the same reaction I had after the 2003 ALCS Game 7. This time, it was tears of joy, and it was perfect.
As we left The White Horse and walked to Kenmore Square, across the Mass Ave bridge and on right through to Central Square, I looked up and just stared at the Lunar Eclipse over my head with a stupid little smile on my face. I still can't comprehend what I just witnessed over the past week. I can't wrap my head around this; it's just not real yet. Maybe tomorrow, or the next day, or sometime between now and March.
I think I need to go back to bed, and just keep on dreaming...
2004 World Series - 3 down...
206 wins and 118 losses. That is the combined regular season records of the two teams against which the Boston Red Sox have just reeled off seven straight postseason wins. I’m sorry, did I say this team was dead just a week ago? That may have been my biggest “Oops” prediction ever, ranking right up there with putting the Redskins in the upcoming Super Bowl and saying that the Red Sox should have traded Pedro back in April. Well, we all make mistakes.
I’m still in shock over the fact that the Red Sox have a chance to clinch a World Series for the first time in 31,091 days (September 11, 1918). What’s more, we might just get a sign from above tonight that “this is the year”, since there is a full lunar eclipse that is supposed to be visible during then middle of the game. What more proof do you need that the Red Sox HAVE to win in 2004?
On to last night’s game. First of all, who says these guys can’t play defense? In the first three innings alone, they turned a 7-2 double-play and a 4-3-5 double-play. C’mon, that’s pretty impressive, even if both were the direct result of poor base running more than stellar defense. I was also pleasantly surprised to see that A) Manny’s bat finally awoke from it’s nine game slumber to CRUSH a first inning fastball over the left field wall (and almost give all of America a free taco…), and B) Pedro was magnificent after settling down in the fourth.
Over the course of the first seven outs, he allowed three hits and two walks, striking out only one. Over the final fourteen outs, he allowed no one to reach base, period, and struck out five. Talk about finding your groove. Hell, he even drew a bases-empty one-out walk in the top of the sixth off Kiko Calero (who would have the best name of the World Series if not for teammate So Taguchi. What’s really amazing is that the spellchecker gives me errors for Kiko Calero, but it’s ok with So Taguchi. Sorry, rambling again).
I’m not really up to writing a ton today, mainly because I’ve written so much over the past two weeks that I think I’ve developed carpal tunnel and will need a trip to the 60-day DL to recover. But also, I’m planning to go to Boston tonight, just in case, because I want the opportunity to revel in my team’s success with 100,000 of my closest friends. And if it doesn’t happen tonight (which it will), then I’ll be there tomorrow, or Saturday, or Sunday, right until the final pitch of the final at-bat. Not to mention the parade through the city, which is expected to attract 5 million or more fans to downtown Boston. And you thought the hub was tough to drive through before…
Anyway, that’s it. Nice short five minute read for you folks today. And if all goes according to plan, I’ll be too hung-over to even think tomorrow, let alone write. I need sleep; this series has to end in four games. That’s it, I’m calling a stop to all this nonsense right now…
Lata.
2004 World Series Game 3 Preview & Poker
Ah, the return to my roots was so sweet last night, for awhile that is. And of course, by “roots”, I mean the 1-2 No Limit poker tables at Foxwoods…
Yep, I spent about two hours at the 1-2 table last night, dividing my time between playing, watching MNF (awful game) and chatting with the people on either side of me about anything but poker. I have a habit of talking a lot after my first hand or two, just rarely about the game. I prefer to speak about baseball, football, world news and current events, anything but poker. It’s probably a tell, because when I decide I’m going to play a hand, I clam up faster than Ben Affleck when you mention the word “Gigli” (by the way, Affleck – really lowering the bar for crappy Christmas films this year. The promos make “Surviving Christmas” look like a bad combination of The Sopranos and “Home Alone II: Lost in New York – only because that one was so much worse than the first. Sorry, I’m rambling…)
Anyway, where was I? Oh, right, poker. So I’m sitting at a table last night, probably the youngest person there (what’s new), although the age range was certainly skewed towards me. 10-person table. Just as I sat down, the rake came in. Foxwoods has a nice neat way of doing this. At a 1-2 table, every half hour each person just gives up $5. Simple. The house takes $50 an hour for the privilege of letting you use their table, chips, cards and dealer. And that’s on a cheap table. So I paid the rake, then was blinded in immediately as the newest member of the table. Got dealt a solid 10-6 suited hearts (real winner there) and decided to stay in the hand for free. Flop came up Q-8-4, 8-4 of hearts. Check around. Then a spade. Check around (only three of us in the hand anyway). Then the deuce of hearts. Checked to me, and I bet $10. Got everyone out of the way, so I won my first hand of the night. Never a good sign…
Over the next two hours, I played maybe 10 hands to the flop, with most being hands I got to see for free or for a discount with the blinds. I played one hand to perfection and one hand about as poorly as I could have played it. Ain’t that always the way?
So I get wires aces in the small blind, which is where I LOVE to see pocket aces. If I raise the pot large enough, people think I’m trying to steal it away and call me (or even re-raise, which is so much better). But if I just call, I give the big blind the chance to steal it away and then I crush him (used this technique online about a month ago to dominate the tournament chip leader’s 8-10 off-suit and cement my top-20 finish). This time, I didn’t get the chance. Before it got around to me, there was a raise to $5 and a re-raise to $10, plus two callers. I made it $20 to go and got two calls total. Flop was 10-4-2 rainbow, meaning I was in good shape. I checked it, the guy next to me (short stacked) bet all-in for $24. The other guy raised to $40, and I re-raised all-in to $75. He actually beat me into the pot with his call, so when I flipped the aces he was, shall we say, less than pleased. He had pocket queens, and the other all-in had K-10 for top pair on the board. Turn and river were blanks, and I took a little over $200 from the pot. I was so stunned at my win that I forgot to tip the dealer, drawing an ugly stare (and no good cards for about a half hour).
I won a couple more small hands before my demise. You see, I went to Foxwoods with my mother, essentially for dinner and then maybe to play as an afterthought. We had planned on leaving by 9PM so as to get home and let the dogs out. Well, I had only bee at the table for 35 minutes by 9PM, and had already won 2 pots, so I told her to make it 9:30. At 9:30, I told her to make it 10, and I gave her the car keys because she wanted to lie down until I was done. So at 9:45, I got dealt QQ and decided to make my final rush.
This time I was the big blind, so I pushed to $15. I probably should have pushed it to $25 or $30, because at $15 I got three callers (wow), making it a $63 pot pre-flop. Flop was 10-J-K with two spades and a club. I made a mistake in checking, and after it had checked to the last seat, he bet $50. I put him on a 10, maybe a jack, and just trying to take the pot with the king on the board. I called immediately – I know, I should have gone all-in over the top to check-raise him and maybe scare him away – everyone else folded. Turn was a four, and he put me all-in. Since I was more or less committed, and I was reading him to a smaller pair than mine, I called without hesitating. I showed my Queens (giving me 10 outs out of about 30 cards in the deck if I was behind – any queen, ace, or nine), and he showed his pocket 10’s, giving him a set off the flop. Oops.
Needless to say, I started to walk to the car after that hand, although the 8 on the river did give me a glimmer of hope for a second when I thought it was a nine.
So I return home, beaten and dejected. I wasn’t wearing my lucky cap, I never once used my shades, I was visibly shaking when I played the Aces (which worked to my advantage, since I looked nervous and appeared to be bluffing). I calmed down after awhile, and played better poker. But like they say – “All-in is a great move when you use it. It works every time, except once.”
That’s all I got so far today. Maybe I’ll have more news later. I don't knwo what it is, but I almost feel compelled to write something everyday now. You've all spoiled me with my readership numbers...
I’m pretty sure I’ll be comatose again by tomorrow, since there is a likely rain-delay for tonight’s Game 3 in St. Louis, meaning that the first pitch will probably end up happening at around 9 or 9:30 tonight. Lovely. Means the game should end at, what, about 3AM?
Week Recap
What a week.
Seriously, I can’t remember a better 7-day stretch in Boston sports during my lifetime.
Not only did the Red Sox pull off the greatest comeback in baseball history, not only did the Patriots defeat the Jets to extend the longest winning streak in NFL history, but every team from New York and/or LA that was still playing crumbled and fell to pieces over the past seven days.
The Yankees are done. They’re home making plans on how much to overpay Carlos Beltran, Pedro Martinez, Nomar Garciaparra, and about twelve more guys. The Jets are no longer counted among the NFL’s elite three undefeated teams, leaving only New England and Philly (my super bowl pick two years running, and should have been this year… damned ‘Skins) at zero losses. The Bills and Giants both lost yesterday, meaning that no team from New York has won since last Sunday’s late Jets’ comeback over San Francisco. Oh how sweet it is.
And, on top of all that, I have some personal good news to pass along. Thanks to a huge boost from employees at the company I work for (who now total 73% of my readership – impressive), I received my highest single-week hit total to this site at almost 250, with a total page view number of over 350 – bringing my monthly numbers up over 550 page views. October is good... I guess this is what happens when you write for what is now eight straight days. Don’t get used to all this material people, because after Halloween, this is probably going to have to go back to a weekly thing rather than a daily. Maybe I’ll keep it at twice a week, but who knows. This can only mean big things for me, I can feel it. Soon, I’ll be alongside the greats like Gordon Edes, Steve Buckley, and Dan Shau… eh, he sucks.
I have to say, thanks to a wacky week and a half of sports, I’ve had plenty to write about. I’m going to keep today’s column short, basically because it’s an off day for the World Series, and no one cares about Bengals/Broncos later tonight. Just some quick-hit thoughts going into game 3, and of course, the return of the “Quote of the Week”, which is actually just the “Quote of the Week(end)”.
- Pedro Martinez vs. Jeff Suppan in Game 3. Isn’t this the same Jeff Suppan who didn’t even make the Red Sox postseason roster last year? How is he this good? I think if Petey gives a 6IP, 2R (probably both unearned), 6H, 2BB, 5K line, it should be enough. Of course, I can’t wait to see him lay down a good sacrifice and teach people like Johnny Damon and Mark Bellhorn how to execute the most fundamental of baseball plays…
- Game 1 was spent in “Who’s On First” once again, returning to the scene of the massacre, as it were. I stood in nearly the same spot that I had been for ALCS Game Three, with a far better result this time around. Well, at least from a baseball standpoint. This time I gout doused in beer and nearly crushed by the only three people in the bar larger than me, each of which had taken up residence either in front of, behind, or alongside me for the better part of the game. There was one big celebration, and I think I lost a rib or two. Too bad FOX didn’t have a camera in there…
- The crowd booing Dale Sveum was perhaps the best crowd-related moment of the weekend. He deserved it, he knew he deserved it, and the sheepish grin he had on his face said as much. Now let’s get past it and get’r’done boys.
- Actually, the best crowd-related moment was at the end of Pats/Jets yesterday, as whatever remained of the capacity crowd at Gillette Stadium began chanting “Who’s your daddy” to the Jets. Inventive, witty, and well timed. I love being a Boston fan right now.
- The announcers during that football game should be reviewed, if they did in fact openly hope that the Pittsburgh Steelers win next week versus the Patriots, as my buddy Tim says they did. Aren’t national announcers supposed to be un-biased?
- Broncos/Bengals – Broncos, by a lot, and Ruben Droughns goes off. Again.
- Things I said on Friday:
1) “Detroit doesn’t have the offense OR the defense to compete with the G’nts.” Oops.
2) On Atlanta (+3.5) over KC: “This is ludicrous. The Falcons are 5-1, the Chiefs are 1-4. HOW ARE THEY FAVORITES?! I know that Atlanta hasn’t looked impressive in their wins, but wins are wins, and losses are losses. KC still can’t stop anyone, and Atlanta has the single best athlete in the NFL. This makes no sense at all.” Bigger Oops.
3) “The Pats’ defense is solid, although I think Curtis Martin will have another big day. He always plays well against New England…” Not a huge Oops, since Curtis did got 20 rushes for 70 yards and 2 catches for 0 yards. Actually, yeah, that’s a lousy day.
- I can’t believe I’m relying on the Broncos to cover tonight –6 against the Bengals in order to salvage a winning week (6-6-1 so far). In even worse news, I’m 7-6 so far in the office pool, and guaranteed to drop 2 games to the player in first place, and possibly fall into fourth place. Ugh.
- My stomach and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms this morning. Although, considering the mass quantities and odd combinations of alcohol, fast food, junk snack food and Dunkin’ Donuts coffee that I’ve forced into my digestive system, I really can’t blame my stomach for holding a grudge.
- Planning a Vegas trip in March, probably around Spring Break… Who’s in?
Quotes(s) of the Week(end):
Both from my boy Tim. I spent Game 1 in Boston with him and about 10 other friends from home. In case you missed it, the Red Sox chose to introduce every person in the organization before the game started. I was fully expecting Wally to get a standing ovation, but alas… Anyway, during the introductions, Tim and I had this exchange screaming over the speakers:
Me: “Damn, I just got my voice back on Thursday!”
Tim: “Are you kidding? I just lost mine cheering for the groundskeeper!”
And then last night, during a pivotal moment in Game two (spent with about 10 people at Tim's apartment), his cell phone rang, playing the ever-popular “Knight Rider” theme song (way too much back story to explain that one). Tim jumps up and blurts out “This had better be the bloody Pope calling at this time!” and storms out of the room to try and get reception.
I don’t know, both of these just made me laugh for awhile.
That’s all I got for right now. I’ll see you all later this week, probably Wednesday after the Sox go up 3-0. And as we all know, in baseball when a team goes up 3-0 in a seven-game series, that’s it, the season’s over, don’t even play the rest of the games… uh, right?
God it’s nice to be a Boston fan right now. Have I mentioned that yet?
2004 World Series Preview
So, that’s that. The Cardinals and Red Sox will meet for the 2004 World Series starting tomorrow, in Fenway.
That still doesn’t sound right. I keep waiting to hear that George Steinbrenner has hired a lawyer to contest Roger Clemens’ Houston contract, using some logic like “He said he was retiring as a Yankee, but I saw him pitch last night, and since the Yankees obviously weren’t playing last night, he must have lied! The entire season should be replayed, with Clemens in either a Yankee uniform or no uniform at all…” or something like that. Or perhaps that, due to the rainout of Game 3, the Red Sox should forfeit because their owners did not want to go the extra mile for their fans and build a retractable roof stadium, thereby causing the Yankees to lose an extra day and wear their pitching staff down to the point of being useless.
I’m a bit more able to put words together and actually form a thought, or maybe, if you’re lucky, a full sentence. But let’s not push it.
It’s amazing, today’s the off day, the workout day, the rest day, so naturally everyone is using the time to talk about… The Yankees? Or more accurately, whom George Steinbrenner will axe first. Even Boston talk-radio seems fixated on who gets canned first. Personally, I don’t think anyone gets canned – maybe he “lets” Willie Randolph go coach the Mets and that will be enough of a sign. But he can’t get rid of Cashman, and if George fires Torre then the Boss come out looking bad in the deal. Mel Stottlemyre? If Mel goes, Joe goes, and George can’t have that.
So Steinbrenner is left to acquire every bit of talent available this year (Imagine, if you will, an infield of A-Rod, Jeter, Delgado, and either Soriano or Nomar at second, with an outfield of Matsui, Beltran and Sheffield. Hell, he might pick up Sammy Sosa as a bat off the bench in case Jason Giambi’s “parasites” come back…), meaning that just about anyone in baseball without a contract or in contract limbo (Sosa, Randy Johnson) is fair game for the Yanks.
But I’m not here to worry about next year. I’m here to give you one man’s insights into the LCS’ (let’s be honest, I only really watched one), and the upcoming World Series.
Imagine, if you will, that you are a Red Sox fan (please don’t start rioting in Kenmore or complaining incessantly just yet…). Imagine that after Game 3 of the ALCS, you swore off baseball. You refused to watch games or highlights, and every time someone came to you and started talking about the Sox you just covered your ears and walked away. Or maybe you even went into the woods for the next four days to get away from it all. Imagine now that you’re walking in your office on Thursday morning and overhear that the impossible has happened. That the Red Sox came back to complete the greatest 4-game turnaround in history. Would this immediately throw you into therapy for the rest of your life? I vote yes. I’m contemplating therapy just for watching this entire thing.
I had planned to visit friends in New Jersey for the Halloween weekend, plans that were made before the playoffs even started. Now, I’m hoping the series is over in four or five - otherwise I’m going to have to cancel and go another time. No way in hell I’m NOT in Boston if there’s a game six or seven. Of course, the last three Sox playoff games that I’ve been in Boston for (Games 3 & 7 of the ’03 ALCS and game 3 of the ’04 ALCS) didn’t end up so good for Boston. Good God, can you even imagine a World Series Game 7 in Fenway Park, on HALLOWEEN? The only way that script is better is if the Astros had won rather than the Cards, because we would have probably gotten Clemens vs. either Pedro or Schilling. Now THAT would have been apocalyptic…
I still haven’t finished reading the IM that I got from my boy Tex at some point after the Cardinals won last night. Tex and I had a long conversation yesterday about who he should cheer for if it was Astros / Red Sox. His decision was difficult only in that even though he’s from Texas, he was never a baseball fan until he started college in Boston and met the rabid Sox fans in the area (i.e. ME). Then he started cheering for the Astros. Guess that decision is made a bit easier now. Anyway, he sent me about a 40 line IM today, the highlight of which (or at least of the parts that I read) was his line bemoaning the fact that we now have a Communist World Series – Red Sox vs. Red birds. Nice work Tex.
I was cheering for the 'Stros too, mostly because I had predicted Sox/Astros back in February, but also because I liked the matchup more and I would have enjoyed Clemens in Fenway one last time. And yes, that was the same article in which I predicted the Royals would win the AL Central and that the Cubs, Giants and Phillies would be the other three NL playoff teams. At least I got the Sox over the Angels in the ALDS right…
So into the matchups we go, quickly, before I pick the NFL games for the week (Sunday is gonna be fun. Pats extend the streak, Sox go up 2-0 in the Series, I don’t move from my couch for 12 straight hours).
Pitching:
Boston:
Starters: Wakefield, Schilling, Pedro, Lowe
Bullpen: Arroyo, Timlin, Embree, Mendoza, Myers, Leskanic, Foulke
St. Louis:
Starters: Williams, Marquis, Morris, Suppan
Bullpen: Calero, Haren, Tavarez, King, Isringhausen
Edge: Boston
Boston has a major edge in starters, even with Schilling’s gimpy ankle and the unpredictability of Derek Lowe and Tim Wakefield’s knuckleball. The Cardinals’ starting rotation is made of up four guys who between them had one 20-win season ever (Morris, 22-8 in ’01). Their best pitcher, Chris Carpenter, isn’t available. By contrast, the Red Sox are throwing out two guys who are in the Cy Young debate this year, along with a third who was in the conversation two years ago and another who would have been the '03 ALCS MVP if not for some guy named Boone. Their starters have six 20-win seasons (1 for Lowe, 2 for Petey, 3 for Schill). And the Red Sox bullpen has been lights out for four straight games. Boston gets the nod.
Lineup:
Boston: Damon, Bellhorn, Manny, Papi, Millar, Varitek, Nixon, Mueller, Cabrera
St. Louis: Renteria, Walker, Pujols, Rolen, Edmonds, Sanders, Womack, Matheny, (pitcher or
Cedeno at DH)
Edge: Push
The Sox scored almost 100 more runs than St. Louis in the regular season, but that means NOTHING once David Ortiz gets put at first and the pitchers have to hit. Don’t forget, Wake, Schilling and Petey all played in the NL to start their careers, so they have some experience handling the bat. But there is nothing that scares me more than the thought of Albert Pujols and the thunderstick he carries around that he calls a “bat”, flicking knuckleball lightning bolts around Fenway Park or, even worse, through the Green Monster. I really can’t imagine Manny playing The Wall with Pujols (or Rolen, Edmonds, Walker, Sanders or Renteria for that matter) batting and shooting seeds his way. That will be ugly.
Result:
Boston in 6. The city explodes, there are roughly 15,000 arrests in and around Kenmore Square, hopefully no one will be killed this time (that girl was from the college I graduated from… Scary – I almost went into town…), and there is much joy, jubilation, and drinking to be had at Boston University, Northeastern, MIT, Harvard, Emerson, Suffolk, Emmanuel, etc, etc, etc. Boston College isn’t quite sure why everyone is so happy, but they never really need an excuse to drink, so they join the celebration.
So that’s that. Let’s move on to football and get me away from baseball before I write another 10,000-word column. I did well last week, 11-3, making me a respectable 50-36-2 for the year. I also found a way to win my office pool, again, at 11-3. I won a double tiebreaker with the high-scoring Monday Night game (Thank you Adam Archuleta). Almost ridiculously now, I’ve won 4 of 6 weeks outright, and I’m still in 3rd place overall, 2 games out. The player in first has won only one week, while the guy second place has yet to win a week, finishing second for the first time last week. See, this is why I hate math…
DOLPHINS (+6) over Rams: St. Louis is lucky to be coming into this game off of a win. Tampa Bay played them tough all night long and the Rams needed a 93-yard fumble recovery TD to get past the lowly Bucs. Miami has an even tougher defense, and as the Patriots proved in 2001, the way to beat the Rams is to hit them, HARD. Besides, St. Louis will be a bit preoccupied with bigger things… like the Patriots in 2 weeks after the bye.
VIKINGS (-6.5) over Titans: With Randy Moss, this game is a blowout. I’m talking like a 38-13 blowout, like a game that Daunte puts up 480 and 5TD’s, and the Titans leave Minnesota like just about every other team has this year, thinking about “How is Culpepper not called the best in the game?” But without Randy Moss, it’s just another garden-variety 28-17 Vikings win, where Daunte only puts up 330 and 3TD’s.
GIANTS (-6.5) over Lions: Detroit doesn’t have the offense (32nd, last in the league) OR the defense (29th, pretty bad too) to compete with the G’nts (7th and 16th, respectively). Look out for Kurt Warner, and DEFINITELY look out for Tiki Barber. If I didn’t have two better matchups, I’d be starting Amani Toomer in a fantasy league, but my other receivers are facing 2 of the only 3 defenses worse than Detroit (Jerry Porter vs. NO and Drew Bennett vs. MINN).
Bears (+7) over BUCS: How bad do you have to be for the 1-5 Buccaneers to be favorites against you? This is another game where one team (TB) is rated higher in overall offense and defense, but the Bears have a higher points-scored average and a lower points-against. Just weird, that’s all I’m saying.
Chargers (+3) over PANTHERS: Wow, just six week ago this pick would have been a joke. Now, Carolina is 1-4, 0-2 at home, and the Chargers are putting up points on EVERYBODY. Something’s gotta give, and I’m betting it’s not the offense.
Bills (-5.5) over RAVENS: This could EASILY end up as a 3-0 final score. The 27th and 30th ranked offenses in football right now battle the 8th and 6th defenses. It’s almost not fair. And as if Baltimore’s 30th ranked offense wasn’t in enough trouble, they don’t have Jamal Lewis for he next two weeks. No one is watching this.
Eagles (-7) over BROWNS: “Why is that line so low?” I was asked the other day. Simple, Cleveland hasn’t lost at home. The Dawg Pound is back in full effect, and this week is actually going to be a challenge for Philly. Stunningly, Cleveland’s defense is ranked higher than the Eagles’ (13th to 17th), but the offenses, well there’s no comparison (6th to 23rd). Philly, but maybe not by double-digits…
COLTS (-9) over Jaguars: The Jags’ win last week was heroic for Byron Leftwich. This week, he won’t have any trouble hitting open receivers. Too bad Peyton Manning won’t either. And yes, I’m starting Fred Taylor in one league, and Leftwich vs. Colts over Hasselbeck vs. Arizona.
Falcons (+3.5) over CHIEFS: This is ludicrous. The Falcons are 5-1, the Chiefs are 1-4. HOW ARE THEY FAVORITES?! I know that Atlanta hasn’t looked impressive in their wins, but wins are wins, and losses are losses. KC still can’t stop anyone, and Atlanta has the single best athlete in the NFL. This makes no sense at all.
PATRIOTS (-6) over J-e-t-s: Ahh, here it is. My game of the week. This is going to take awhile. First, a fun little number for you. The Red Sox Game 7 win drew a bigger television rating in the Boston area (50.6, that’s asinine) than either of the Patriots’ Super Bowl victories in the same viewing area. Wow. And a better fact for you. The last time the Patriots lost at home was to these Jets on December 22nd… 2002 - 12 regular season (1 in ’02, 8 in ’03, and 3 this year) and two playoff games ago. Now THAT’S a number. Anyway, for this game: The Pats’ defense is solid, although I think Curtis Martin will have another big day. He always plays well against New England (let’s face it – he plays well against everyone. The guy’s a Hall-of-Famer, and the Pats made a serious mistake letting him go). New England will try to force Chad Pennington to beat them, which might be a mistake. The Jets’ D-line is good, but not great against the run, so I think Corey Dillon might go big. Essentially, the defenses are going to force one player to beat them – Brady and Pennington. Sorry Jets fans, but I’m taking Tom in that matchup every time.
Cardinals (+3.5) over SEAHAWKS: Jerry Rice for a conditional 7th round pick. Jerry Rice for a conditional 7th round pick. Jerry Rice for a conditional 7th round pick. Jerry Rice for a conditional 7th round pick? How did this happen?! The greatest receiver ever to play in the NFL, and he’s traded for a conditional 7th round pick? I know he’s 42, but you’ve gotta think the Raiders could’ve gotten at least a solid 3rd or 4th-rounder out of this. He’s Jerry Freakin’ Rice! Seahawks can't win this game, it would violate everything that is good and fair.
PACKERS (-3.5) over Cowboys: Yes, Green Bay does have the 3rd rated offense, behind Minnesota and Dallas. But Green Bay actually has a defense to go with that offense, albeit a middle-of-the-pack defense (21st). Bill Parcells can’t rely on Vinny Testaverde much longer, although I think Vinny goes off against this G-Bay secondary. He’s going to have to press Drew Henson into action and let this season go. In the NFC East, he’s already more or less done.
Saints (+3) over RAIDERS: Jerry Rice for a cond – sorry, still not over that. This is just a classic “bad karma” game. No way in hell the Raiders pull this one off, not after dumping Rice. Plus, the Saints have been embarrassed for a couple of weeks now – they need some redemption, and what better place than the Black Hole?
Broncos (-6) over BENGALS: Think when ABC bought this game for MNF they were expecting to get a matchup of the 5th best offense and the BEST defense (Denver) versus the 25th best offense and the 26th best D? Me either.
Recap: DOLPHINS / VIKINGS / GIANTS / Bears / Chargers / Bills / Eagles / COLTS / Falcons / PATRIOTS / Seahawks / PACKERS / Saints / Broncos
One last thing. Driving home from work yesterday, I caught a song on the radio that I hadn’t heard in awhile. I was a big Smashing Pumpkins fan back in the day (1995ish, you know, ancient history). Anyway, on the radio, they played “Tonight, Tonight”, and I listened to the lyrics in a whole different way. Keep in mind, I was still floating over the Sox yesterday… Well, I’m officially nominating this song as my theme song for the 2004 Sox (with all due respect to the Dropkicks and “Tessie”). Some of the lyrics don’t apply, but I mean, wow…
"Tonight, Tonight"
Time is never time at all
You can never ever leave without leaving a piece of youth
And our lives are forever changed
We will never be the same
The more you change the less you feel
Believe, believe in me, believe
That life can change, that you're not stuck in vain
We're not the same, we're different tonight
Tonight, so bright
Tonight
And you know you're never sure
But you’re sure you could be right
If you held yourself up to the light
And the embers never fade in your city by the lake
The place where you were born
Believe, believe in me, believe
In the resolute urgency of now
And if you believe there's not a chance tonight
Tonight, so bright
Tonight
We'll crucify the insincere tonight
We'll make things right, we'll feel it all tonight
We'll find a way to offer up the night tonight
The indescribable moments of your life tonight
The impossible is possible tonight
Believe in me as I believe in you, tonight
Until next week (or maybe after the first couple games of the Series)…
Lata.
"One Step Short of Comatose..."
“One Step Short Of Comatose…”
I have no words for what I have just witnessed. Seriously - Validation, Emotion, Vindication, Passion, none of these seem to cover what I’m feeling. It’s about 12:30 AM on October 21st, 2004, and I am so unbelievably happy, (no wait, not happy, so unbelievably content,) that you could probably stick a six-foot cactus in my living room and I would high-five it and give it a bear hug. My away message on AIM right now features seven different “smileys” for seven different emotions over seven games, and the words “I don’t have any words right now. I’m speaking in emoticons. Seriously, I just need to go to bed.”
I haven’t seen my dogs for probably about three hours. After I screamed at the TV when Dale Sveum and his helicopter arm got Johnny Damon gunned at the plate (he was safe, by the way), the dogs cowered in fear. When Papi came up and, inevitably, hit a 2-run homerun instead of a 3-run shot, they left the room. When Damon redeemed himself in the 2nd inning with a lazy four-run fly ball, they went downstairs. And when he did it again in the 4th, this time with an absolutely mammoth blast, I had to put them outside. I guess my dogs aren’t too fond of witnessing a man laying in his bed, then suddenly jumping to his feet and screeching “He did it AGAIN!!!”
Last year, after Aaron Boone deposited a ball somewhere between sections 114 and 124 of The Stadium, I just froze. I turned away from the screen and walked out of the bar, silently. There was absolutely no reaction on my face, no emotion at all. I was so drained that it actually took a day or two for me to regain any feeling. That was the kind of sporting event that makes you question a lot of things. For me, it actually made me think, “Maybe I’m on the wrong side here. Maybe good doesn’t beat evil. Maybe I should just give it up. (And of course the reason you’re all here – Maybe I should start writing again…)”
That’s why this season’s “Theme” rang so true to me – Keep The Faith. I can’t even begin to explain to you how many Boston fans just couldn’t do that, either after the ’03 ALCS, or after the lousy start to this year, after the Nomar trade, and especially after falling to 0-3 against the Yankees in this ALCS. Most fans would have quit on this team months ago. I have to admit that after 0-3, I was ready to. About a week ago, after 0-2, I more or less wrote this team’s obituary. I wasn’t quite ready to call it quits, but I also wasn’t expecting anything out of this team. Maybe one win to save face and avoid a sweep.
Sometime during Game 4, it started to click with The Nation:
Hey, if they win this one, Petey goes tomorrow on almost full rest at home - that’s not so bad. And if he survives, we might get Schilling back for one more chance to do what he said he would. Then it’s into seven, and it’s all bets off.
How they did it, I’ll never know.
Anyway, back to my point. In my short time on Earth, I’ve only gotten emotional at two sporting events. When Ray Bourque got his Stanley Cup, and when The Patriots won the Super Bowl in 2001 (I was more in shock than emotional). Tonight, when Ruben Sierra dribbled a little nubber to Pokey Reese, I was standing in the middle of my bedroom. When Mientkiewicz squeezed the final out, I’m not sorry to admit, I totally crumbled. My legs were frozen in place, but the rest of me was numb. My hands covered my head, and I doubled over onto the floor. Even when the Pats took down the Rams, I wasn’t crying, I was stone-faced, staring at the screen, with tears welling in my eyes. Tonight, I just let it all go. And I don’t think I was alone.
I had to lie down almost immediately afterward (although I stayed alert enough to see the Nike commercial for the 2004 Sox – that was GREAT). I checked my phone to find I had missed seven calls during the game and had five new voice mails. Most of them were just checking to make sure I hadn’t gone catatonic. I’d love to share all of them with you, but I can’t. What I will do is share a message I got about a week ago.
Many of you know I had a bunch of college buddies from NY/NJ. Most (not all, but most) of them are Yankees fans. For four years I had to watch them celebrate; listen to the arrogance, the sense of entitlement that comes with 26 Championship rings (Although last I checked, none of my friends were actually wearing any of those rings). After Game 2 of this ALCS, I got one drunken phone call shared between two Yankee fan friends, Frank and Knob, extolling the virtues of being a Yankee fan, and reminding me why I choose to cheer for the Sox. After the last four nights, I’m sure they had hoped that I deleted the call, but something inside told me to save it, just in case. Boy am I glad I did. The following is a (edited) bit of that message:
Frank: “Hey, Big D! How does it feel, another year of being a (expletive) loser? Following that (expletive) team once again – we’re gonna dominate you. Hey, hold on, someone else wants to talk…”
Knob: “Hey, Big D, why don’t you write a (expletive) column about how the (expletive) Red Sox (long series of expletives and suggestions about Boston’s collective sexuality). Huh? What do you think about that, you (really bad expletive)? Huh, you (really bad expletive)…how about Pedro, that (expletive, racial expletive) piece of (yeah, take a guess)? I’m gonna break his (expletive) legs and throw him in the (expletive) river, I’m gonna kill him.”
Frank: Well D, that’s a synopsis, but basically what I’m trying to say is that the Red Sox are the most embarrassing (expletive) organization in baseball, and year after year, they find a way to lose…
I would like to thank Frank and Knob for typifying all that is wrong with baseball and all that I hate about the Yankees and their fans, and for doing it in a nice recordable format so that I could listen to it over, and over, and over again last night. Especially as I watched one Yankee after another make an ass out of himself at the plate during the game. It made for a nice soundtrack to my night, and that last line of the message, well I think that sums it up.
Right now, the Yankees are the most embarrassing organization in all of baseball, finding a way to lose. And I couldn’t be hap-, uh, more content.
Well, it’s almost 2AM now, and I’m exhausted, and I have to work tomorrow. I’m going to hold off on posting this until I get to work so that I can re-read it and make sure I didn’t ramble too much, although I’m sure I did. It’s amazing how this feels right now. I just hope my body and my mind can survive another week of this. Bring on whoever is next.
Good night.
2004 ALCS Thoughts - Game 6
“I literally can't handle this. I'm about 3/4 of the way into a nervous breakdown.
If you're reading this, please do me a favor. Regardless of the outcome of Game 7, please don't call me, and give me a few minutes after it's over before trying to contact me. I'll probably be in the fetal position for most of the game anyway.”
That is my away message at home right now (Well, with a few spelling errors, I was half asleep when I put it up), and it has been since the final strike to Tony Clark in Game 6 of last night’s ALCS.
I have to admit, I haven’t formed a coherent thought in roughly nine and a half hours now, so this might be a bit disjointed. There has yet to be a moment, waking or sleeping, in which the ALCS wasn’t in my head. I'm not even going to attempt to describe my reaction after Strike Three to Tony Clark. I actually yelled at my dogs this morning for jumping up to lick my face and blocking the television while I was trying to watch the highlights of a game I’d seen just seven hours earlier. (Don’t worry, I apologized and gave them each a cookie. Now get the MSPCA off my back…)
Speaking of cookies, I knew something good was going to happen last night somewhere around 1PM. We ordered Thai food for lunch in my office to celebrate a birthday, and when I opened my fortune cookie, I smiled, then grinned, then tucked the fortune into my wallet for luck. Not for the fortune - that was totally irrelevant – but the back of the cookie had it’s own little message. In the “Learn Chinese” portion of the fortune, one word was written – Bang-qiu. Translated to English, it means “Baseball”. Go ahead, try to tell me that wasn’t a sign from above, I dare you…
Anyway, back to last night. Curt Schilling’s bloody red sock immediately gets its own place in the Red Sox Hall of Fame in Fenway, if not in Cooperstown itself. Yesterday, I asked for a line of 6IP, 5H, 2R, 2ER, 1BB, 8K. What I got was even better - 7IP, 4H, 1R, 1ER, 0BB, 4K. Considering the magnitude of the game, and the injury situation, that line is ludicrous. It's something out of a comic book, not a Major League Baseball game.
On a historical level, the Red Sox have already won. In fact, no matter what the outcome tonight, I can’t feel bad about this team. They’ve done the unthinkable, they’ve risen up to meet the empire, and they now stand toe to toe on a ledge so precarious that after tonight, only one team will still be on its feet, while the other tumbles to the rocky floor below.
Yes, I’m speaking in metaphors. And yes, I understand that much of it may not make sense. Please note the disclaimer in the second paragraph about not having a coherent thought in awhile. But none of that matters. What matters is that the Red Sox have done something that no team in the 100+ year history of the Major League Baseball playoff system has ever done. They’ve climbed completely out of the shallow grave that the Yankees had dug for them after Game 3. And they’ve brought the spirits of an entire region, wait, no, that’s not right. They’ve brought the spirits of an entire nation right along with them.
These aren’t the things that happen to the Red Sox, these are the things that happen to the Yankees. Any other year, and the ball that Posada crushed in the first inning isn’t left floating in mid-air by Jorge, it’s left floating by Jason Varitek, twisting back to earth and landing squarely in the glove tucked to the left side of Gary Sheffield’s waist rather than the glove just above Trot Nixon's right shoulder. The Bellhorn homerun is not a homerun, but a ball that is caught by a leaping Hideki Matsui, or even worse, a foul ball resulting in another pitch and a called third-strike. In any other year, the umpires don’t get together to get two game-altering (and life-altering) calls correct, they stubbornly tell Terry Francona to shove it because they got the call right the first time and they know it. In years past, it’s a Red Sox player who deliberately tries to interfere with the game in order to get on first because he’s suddenly fallen into a horrible slump. These things just DON’T happen to the Red Sox…
Alex Rodriguez made an ass of himself in a way that only a $25-million-a-year arrogant prick could do, and he disgraced the game he plays. I wrote earlier that although I hate the Yankees, I respect each of them. Well, my respect for A-Rod went out the window somewhere around the bottom of the eighth inning last night. Not only is that a dirty, sneaky, cheating play, but it’s a play on which he easily could have broken Arroyo’s arm. He should be fined, suspended, and not allowed to play for the rest of the playoffs. Plenty of first basemen have injured their glove hands reaching out to make tags on runners barreling down the line (Cliff Floyd’s gruesome broken wrist comes to mind), but for Rodriguez to INTENTIONALLY go after Bronson is just iniquitous, and he needs to pay for it. If Wakefield starts tonight, the first relief pitcher buzzes A-rod. If anyone else starts tonight, Alex takes one the first time he bats with no one on.
I’ve got to admit, Mark Bellhorn saved this team last night. And I’ll take a full mea culpa for being one of the millions of people screaming at Tito to put in Pokey during the first four games when the Great Horned Strikeout Machine pulled a disappearing act, going 1-14 with 8 K’s in Games 1-4. But in Games 5 & 6, he’s 3-9 with 2 K’s, a walk, and that out-of-nowhere opposite field shot last night. Not stellar, but I’ll certainly take it.
No matter what happens tonight, I’m cheering my team on. I’m sitting in a corner, ignoring any and all attempts to contact me, and cheering my team on. Do they have it in them? I have no idea. Do we, as fans, have it in us? Well, I can’t speak for you, or really even for myself at this point, but I think so.
Personally, I need a couple of Xanax to calm my nerves. Hell, screw that. I need a bottle of Xanax, and a case of beers, and a nice, looooooooooooooooooong nap.
Damn, I love bang-qui.
2004 ALCS Thoughts - Game 5
That’s it. It’s official. The Red Sox have driven me insane. Or, to quote Pink Floyd, I have become comfortably numb.
Nothing could happen over the next three weeks that could wake me from this trance-like state I’ve been in since mid-way through Game 3. I need to call the people I hung out with that night to ask them if I fell down and hit my head – it kinda feels like I’ve got a concussion. I don’t even know how to explain this. I just walk around my house and my office in a daze, talking to people about random things, for no apparent reason. Cutting conversations off at the strangest times. I’ve totally lost it.
After the 14th inning of last night’s ALCS Game 5, I couldn’t stop giggling. Seriously. I lay in my bed, exhausted, giggling like a six year old kid who just ripped off a “SBD” in his classroom and is waiting for the rest of the kids to get the good news. I stared blankly at the post-game commentary on NESN, flipping only momentarily in time to catch the last two innings of the Astros/Cardinals NLCS Game 5 (Such an unbelievable series by the way. If it weren’t for Sox/Yanks, this would be an insta-classic NLCS…). Can anyone else comprehend that the Astros game, which started THREE HOURS AFTER the Red Sox, ended not even FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER?!?!
When I got to work this morning, I actually sent out the following e-mail:
The Red Sox have officially driven me insane. I'm just giving you all fair warning, that if this series goes to seven games, regardless of the outcome, I'll probably lose it completely and be forced to spend the next three days recuperating at a spa or something, just to calm my nerves. Depending on the outcome, when I do come in to work the next day, I'll either be very happy, or I’ll tackle and pummel the first person to say the wrong thing to me. I could go either way here.
I’m thinking the last statement might end up getting me fired, or at least thrown in prison for a very long time as pre-meditation. Of course, so could that sentence.
This is how desperate I’ve become. I’m actually torn between hoping for a rain-out just so I can get some sleep, and hoping that the game is played tonight, just because the Yankees’ bullpen would be totally useless. I can’t imagine any scenario under which Joe Torre would trot out Mariano Rivera and/or Tom Gordon if Game 6 actually gets played tonight. None whatsoever. Hell, I think even Tanyon Sturtze, Paul Quantrill and Felix Heredia are off-limits (although I think Heredia has been more or less off-limits for a month now).
I can’t believe I’m allowing the ‘Olde Town Team to suck me back in again. I can only equate this in devastation to being waaaaay ahead in a hand of poker (like flopping a full house to someone with a pocket pair who tries to buy a pot by moving all-in), only to lose on the river by two runners (say, to make four of a kind) and still get dealt wired Aces the next hand. There’s nothing you can do but keep playing, even though you know you should walk away and get out while you’ve still got something left to offer.
That’s what’s going on right now. I can’t get away from this team, and although I would never wish that they would lose, I don’t know if I could handle it, emotionally, if they took this to seven and then coughed it up. Or, worse, made it to the Series only to give it up then. It’s all or nothing right now.
That being said, there’s no pressure on these guys right now. They’ve given every Red Sox fan more than could have ever been expected after the Game 3 debacle. All the pressure in the world now falls squarely on the Yankees and the right arm of Jon Lieber. Remember, Lieber had never pitched in the postseason before this year, and although he’s looked great so far, he hasn’t had to pith with the weight of the Steinbrenner-fearing world (or at least the weight of David Ortiz) on his back.
Curt Schilling, on the other hand – he’s been here before. Maybe not in this physical condition, but I would not be surprised to see him put up a line of something like: 6IP, 5H, 2R, 2ER, 1BB, 8K. Hell, if that was what he put up, I’d take it and say thank you, and oh by the way, you’re our #1 next year, Pedro be damned.
And that brings me to Petey. Pedro’s last start of this ALCS, and possibly ever in a Sox’ uniform, was masterful. At least until pitch number… (yep, you guessed it) …100. How he could have ever drilled Miguel Cairo to bring Jeter up, I don’t know. There’s no reason to even pitch Cairo inside in that situation – it’s not like he’s a fearsome hitter in the clutch. Derek Jeter is. There was no doubt in my mind that Jeter would come through (and go to right field, by the way) in the clutch last night and push the Sox to the edge. What was worse, (although it worked out OK in the end) was Terry Francona’s decision to let Pedro stay in against Matsui in that same inning. Apparently, Tito had his head in the sand during last year’s ALCS, because that was certainly a Grady-like miscue that, had it not resulted in a very hard hit line-out to right field, probably costs Tito his job after the season. Or at least gives the Sox’ brass some serious pause.
I don’t know. I’ve got nothing left here. I don’t think I can be of much use to society at this point, what with my brain being a squishy pile of goop just floating along inside my skull right now. I’m pretty sure that the Red Sox are going to give me a stroke at some point in my life, and I’d really like to know ahead of time so I can make the proper plans.
After all, who should get my collection of Phil Plantier rookie cards after I pass…?
2004 ALCS Thoughts - Games 3 & 4
Six hours. That’s how much sleep I got, combined, between Saturday and Sunday night. These are the things that I do for my team. Sacrificing my own health and sanity, I watch every game, every out, every pitch. Sometimes it hurts.
Saturday, it hurt. Sunday, for the first 8+ innings, it hurt. But then, well…
Saturday night, I happened to be just north of Boston for a contract job that ran for most of the day. Friends from home had planned to be in town for the game that night, so we decided to meet up at “Who’s on First”. I’m not sure how I’d never been to this bar before, since it is directly across Yawkey Way from Fenway Park, but I hadn’t. I parked my car in Brighton (a function of the fact that every Red Sox fan in greater New England ventured into Boston on Saturday night, tickets be damned), and caught a bus to Kenmore Square.
The Cask & Flagon had a line that, no word of a lie, stretched over the Mass Pike bridge (about 2 Boston blocks, for those not familiar with the area). After reaching the bar, I met my friends, and the game, and the drinking, commenced.
Somewhere around the top of the third inning (or the 16th beer, if you wish to measure time in the only really meaningful way), I realized that the Sox weren’t winning this game. Yes, Boston tied the score in the bottom of the third, but that was only for show. No way in hell would the Sox hold game 3. Personally, I turned my back and focused on standing up straight for the next couple of hours, an area that really needed my full attention if I was going to drive home 4+ hours later (don’t worry, I was fine by that time. Water and an upset stomach made sure of that…)
We left in the 7th inning, rather abruptly I might add, only to walk the two miles to the car, then to a pizza joint for a bite and to watch the last inning or so. Driving to my friend Jay’s apartment, it suddenly dawned on me that these Red Sox had lost their carefree, happy-go-lucky, “just a bunch of idiots playin’ ball” mentality. They were beaten, physically and mentally, and I didn’t think they had what it took to avoid potentially the most devastating sweep in Boston sports history.
Then came Sunday. Ah, glorious Sunday. Is it any coincidence that the first day of a new week offered a look at what might have been for this team? A series reborn with the new intensity of a fresh seven-day stretch full of endless possibilities.
If I’m babbling, excuse me. These are the things that happen when you sleep for three hours Saturday night, wake up, drive an hour home, watch football for eight hours, then stay up until 2:00 AM watching baseball and post-game coverage, only to get back up at 5AM for work on Monday morning. Hell, I even got to work EARLY today so I could leave early and catch Game 5. That’s what yesterday’s game has done to this entire area. The Nation is in a frenzy, and we’re still down 3-1! Hell, my friend Tim is ecstatic that the Sox are now 7-0 in home games he attends (I recommended he scalp tickets to tonight’s game, just to be safe).
I love being a Red Sox fan. I love knowing that no matter what happens – 3-0 deficits, Cy Young candidates tearing tendons, reliance on a manager who sits in a dugout reenacting scenes of “Rainman” – this team is just never finished until that last out hits the glove. I love watching a game, and honestly not having any CLUE as to what is going to happen with the next pitch.
With some teams, their games are so predictable that it’s almost like they’re playing from a script. But this Sox team – I mean the only thing that we expect, or predict, is that they don’t just roll over and play dead. They fight back, they keep grinding, and they do all the little things that make teams winners rather than the “also-rans” in a sweep. (Again, I apologize – I realize I’m speaking entirely in sports cliché, it’ll get better by Thursday).
Twenty-five teams have gone down 3-0 in an LCS, before yesterday, 3 had forced game five, 2 had played six, and none had gotten to 7, let alone won.
There’s a first time for everything. Let’s just hope this is the first time.
Quick Fantasy Football update: Once again, a far superior team EMBARRASSED The Kids Table. Demo Team, the Table’s opponents this week, had averaged 100 points a week, while the Table had yet to reach a high of better than 87. So naturally, the Table hung a solid 63-point outburst, while Demo set what I think is a new Ashford FFL single-game record of 138 points.
The Table immediately claimed a moral victory, citing that not every player on the Demo Team scored in double digits – Andre Johnson managed only 6 while Donald Driver and his 23 sat on the bench. Of course, the Table had David Carr starting, so it might have helped had Johnson had a better game. No way we were winning this week, but in the overall standings, a few more points would have helped.
Next year, along with the standard baseball and football leagues, I am proposing that we have “reverse leagues” – points leagues based on how poorly everyday players perform. For example, you would gain points for a fumble, but lose points for a TD. Or in baseball, if your players struck out, that’d be good. But if they score runs, that’s bad (Imagine how useful Mark Bellhorn would become then…).
And for those of you reading this who are not in that league, well, um, yeah, I apologize.
Before I close this article, I need to pass along a little something from a friend’s AIM profile. As you will shortly see, he’s not a big fan of the Yankees:
"Of all the American Teams you could have chosen to put on your Baseball Cap, you chose NY... May god have mercy on your ignorant soul"
-T. Resmini '01 St. Johns College of Oxford, Oxford UK
"I'd sooner support the Cuban National team, than that NY Squadron"
-T. Resmini 03' BSC speech class, Bridgewater MA
"Yeah nice hat. You may as well wear one with a Swastika on it if you are going to Cheer on the NY team"
-T. Resmini 04' Stardust Gaming Room Las Vegas NV.
Picking fights with strangers... Dangerous
Bringing up the 3rd Reich... Blasphemous
Hating the Yankees in several Time Zones...Priceless
Game 5 just started, so I'll see you again later this week...
