Tyler, I hate you

Football season does some great things, but it also brings about a slew of craptastic commercials that run over and over and over. My least favorite, the AT&T Tyler Hansborough lost dog spot. I'm sorry, but I find it hard to believe that Tyler is capable of operating a cell phone and doing the simply mind boggling things (for him) that he does to find that dog. I don't doubt that Tyler wakes up every morning and continuously walks into his bedroom door because he can't figure out he closed it the night before, so him using a cell phone for something more than opening a walnut just blows my mind. Why do I think Tyler is one step above a coffee table when it comes to his IQ? Because of that look of "Where am I? Who did that? What are you talking about? Where am I again?" he always has on. That's my gripe for today, or at least before I really wake up.

Almost forgot, Sox clinch the wild card... with a Texas lose. "Dear Angels, thank you for doing our dirty work. See you next week when we try to pound your head in. Love, The Red Sox."

Year of Sox: Part Deux

I have no idea how we came up with this ridiculous idea. But who am I to pass on an opportunity to combine Excel spreadsheets and something baseball-related... and perptuate my nerdom...

November. Another season closes. Usually around the time I realize how much time I've wasted on ESPN and Baseball Reference.

December. Hot Stove sizzles. Sox start addressing some needs. Spend money that doesn't belong to me, but still, I needlessly pretend that I have a say in how its spent. The Theo Epstein voodoo doll gets alot of pins in it during December.

January. Nothing happens in January. Except for snow. Sometimes snowballs look like baseballs. Thats the only connection I can make there.

February. Much like how I forget Valentine's Day, in February, I completely forget all the problems the Sox had the previous year. It is the month of unsolicited optimism.

March. My birthday (yup, the entire month), and with it comes a bunch of really boring exhibition Florida baseball. Also, Remy and DO in Floridian clothes.

April. Season starts. Clean slate. 162 games ahead of us to fill our spring and summer nights. The highlight of April is Marathon Monday when Sox baseball starts at around 11am. Bacon and baseball. That's f*cking heaven if you ask me.

May. Sox beat some teams in the division. Expand their division lead to 6 or 7 games. A lead we know that will fizzle down to 2 or 3 at some point soon. ho-hum.

June. Interleague. or as I like to call it "nap time."

July. Midseason. The All-Star game. I've always had a fascination with the All-Star game ever since I was a kid. Cable TV was at its infancy then, and nationally broadcasted games were few and far between, so I think I enjoyed it because I could see all my favorite baseball cards come to life all in the same game. Now the game is full of apathy, despite homefield advantage in the world series. Ok, that's enough nostalgia for one month.

August. Usually some kind of slump and a few big losses to the Yanks in August. While others begin to get more interested and cynical in August, I drift off here. I have the attention span of a retarded cat. 162 games is too much for me. I cross my fingers that the Sox make it to the playoffs, and I tell them I'll meet them there in October.

September. Pennant races tighten, gets really exciting and nerve-racking. But my attention span just can't handle it. Heidi and Kathryn and all the other pretty girls at NESN tell me what happened the morning after. Meanwhile during the downtime, I try to expand myself by taking up new hobbies.... like graphing my interest in the Red Sox.

October. There's a couple meaningless games to close out the season. And thats the signal to remind me that the playoffs start soon, and that I probably missed my wife's birthday on the 3rd. I usually buy her something extremely un-romantic to kick off the playoffs... like a 'Hooray! The Sox won the Wild Card!' sweatshirt. Then playoff baseball. I get really excited, like planning my entire week around where I'll watch the games, what kind of beer I'll drink, what things I'll throw across the room when the Sox screw up. Its a fun month of baseball, that usually results in the loss of alot of sleep and slow, groggy mornings. I stupidly put all my emotions into these games and my mood is solely dependent on how well the Sox did the night before.
And now I'm 12+ paragraphs into this thing and just realizing that I may have a problem...

Year of Sox, in graph form

Steve and I were talking. Our relationship with the Sox waivers throughout the year. Here is how it goes down in handy graph form with a little explanation to boot. I'll go first.

January it's cold out. I think about baseball a lot, but I also get sick of the term "hot stove" and then there's all those owners meetings and crap.

February it starts to get interesting because spring training starts, but then it dips because you forget how boring spring training games are and how sad it is that the Sox/Yanks game is all hyped up and the starters are out after 2 innings.

April, full swing. The fact that baseball is on TV makes me teary eyed. This trend continues through June.

July last year I got married so I had other stuff on my mind. Also the ever looming post all star break Sox slump comes into my mind. Then in August it starts. I get antsy for playoff time and September gets even worse to the point where I stop watching all together and get all my baseball information through Sportscenter and other Sox blogs.

October finally comes around and it's the first team to 11 wins. I'll watch any playoff game on TV and refuse to miss a Sox game unless under my own superstition rules of when I can't watch.

Nov and Dec it's cold, baseball is over. Cue up the Globe running some story about how the Sox are pursuing some guy over Thanksgiving dinner and watch the Yanks sign a huge name.

Repeat year after year, except the wedding thing. One is good.

Let someone else do the heavy lifting

I get where Theo and Tito and Co. are going with this one. Why waste the precious energy of the Red Sox to take home the Wild Card when the Angels are perfectly capable of doing it for them. You brilliant sons of bitches! The last 4 games I thought you guys were just flailing around hopelessly because that's how bad you really are. Now I realize the beatdown in NY was just a clever guise, a preconceived way to collect potential (not kinetic) energy to be stored and used next week when truly needed. Even more kudos for letting the Angels, the team the Sox will need to beat next week, win the WC for them. Beckett out with " back spasms" (aka too many shots of Jager)??? Lester's knee may cause him to miss a start??? F*ck, Tito is a god damn genius. Rest them. Rest them well. However, while this resting persists I refuse to watch the sh*t show they roll out on the field every night. At least until October rolls around.

Consolation prizes

As Jonny stated, it was a horrible weekend for sure. Sox getting swept, Sox letting the Yanks hit the vaunted 100-win plateau, and of course, the Sox letting the Yanks take the East crown in front of their eyes in their $1 billion fancy-pants stadium. I mean the only thing that would have made it worse is if C.C. and Texiera sprinted across the diamond and sprayed champagne in the Sox dugout.

But here at the Cheese, we'd rather light a candle than curse your darkness. There were many positive things that we can take from this weekend. I mean the Sox have all but sealed the envelope on the Wild Card. And when Bud Selig and his cronies invented the Wild Card in 1994, they gave a playoff key to many teams that would otherwise be dusting off the golf clubs in October. And some of those teams have actually taken home the trophy, notably that little-known 2004 team. So as you sit here on a brisk Monday soaking in your tears from a disappointing weekend of baseball, I ask you to take a brief look at the glorious history of consolation prizes...
















Michael Jordan - Drafted third to Sam Bowie and Hakeem Olajuwon in 1984. Bulls didn't complain.















Saved by the Bell - Sure Kelly was the most beautiful and popular, but if you can't get her, you take your chances with Lisa or Jessie.














Ms.Hooters Contest - Even if you don't get elected Ms.Hooters, apparently the 2nd place prize is free Hooters hot wings for life. So while that only leads to getting further away from the title as they pack on the hot wing weight, lets face it, who wouldn't want an unlimited supply of Hooters wings? I mean thats why everyone goes there, right?


















Strongman Competition - We've talked about Magnus Ver Magnusson here before. But despite all his successes, he hasn't always pulled the cart of cement blocks the furthest. In fact, back in '98, he lost in the final event (throwing the giant boulder over a 40 foot wall) to Hans Brubaker. 2nd place for Magnusson. Luckily the consolation prize was a gift certificate to Big & Tall. Now he's the sharpest looking guy who can dead lift a Buick.

That's some scary sh*t

Freddy. Jason. Mike Myers. Pinhead. All those dudes above. Those are nightmares to most people. Mine, which I probably jinxed a million times by now, was getting swept by the Yanks this weekend in NY. With the sweep, The Yankees not only clinch a playoff spot but they reach the 100 win mark, ALL WITH OUR SOX WATCHING. I feel beaten right now. I'm trying to take solace in the fact that the Sox are still playoff bound and a match-up in the ALDS against the Angels is a good thing, but right now it doesn't seem to be lifting my spirits too much. Tomorrow is another day, next week is another week and there is some serious motivation now for October.

How to beat a team when they're down.

1. Take out their best starter with a liner during the first game of the series.
2. Pound away on the bullpen for the remainder of that game while letting the team get just close enough to think they can come back.
3. The next day, have your #1 fat guy mow down the other team for 2 1/2 hours, but don't score too many runs just to keep it interesting.

Yup. That's what this weekend has been about so far. Not fun to watch. The nightmare of letting the Yanks get #100 in NY against the Sox lay solely in the hands of one Paul Byrd tonight. This is a must win. If not for the whole 100 thing, just for the non sweep and to go into this last week with a shred of dignity. Do it tonight. Do. It. Tonight.

Friday is no longer my fun-day.

Well, that couldn't have gone any worse. I'd rather not mull over the Lester thing until he says how he's feeling over the next few days. Right now he's saying he's ok, so Boston breathes a collective sign of relief. So instead, I'll concentrate my anger upon Tek. Usually Drew is the Cheese punching bag but today it's the Cap. 7 stolen bases against him. Are you f*cking kidding me? It wasn't Wake hucking the 70 MPH knuckler either, it was just Captain Noodle Arm being old. Hmm, that didn't feel good bashing Tek, but it had to be done.

No pictures today people. That's a mojo thing. Less pictures, more mojo.

I know that, Jerry Gallo is dead.

I'm Jerry Callo. With a "C". Sorry, topic came up yesterday and neither Steve nor I could deny the greatness of that movie.

Sox win again. Buchs looked good. Ortiz went bridge and now they all roll into New York 5.5 GB. Lester vs Bulldog Chamberlain tonight. Don't stare directly at that picture. Joba's mom will eat your soul and gnaw on the cartilage in your knee caps til you smack her on her nose and tell her 'down'. The goal this weekend: Don't let the Yanks take all 3. They're at 97 wins. They're going to get 100, just don't let it be against the Sox. That's what I'm watching for. Well that and maybe another Jessica Biel and Eliza Dushku siting at the same game near each other again. I know, that was at Fenway but it just goes to show you how much better Fenway is than NY.

Not-so-Fun Friday Fact: I haven't been to a Sox game this year. First year ever since I can remember. I will be attending a Rockies game next week in Colorado, but it's not the same.

The world continues to turn

I thought the world would just come to a halt if the Sox lost 3 in a row to the Royals. Kind of like how Superman could run so fast he could run around the world the opposite way of its natural rotation and all of a sudden time would freeze or go in reverse. Luckily the Sox have Josh Beckett to keep such things from happening, or at least to shut down the Royals for a few innings. Last night was what the other 2 nights should have been and tonight should be more of the same. It's the F*cking Roayls and it's late September. It's almost like the schedule makers got together and said "Alright, we know the Yanks will come back in the second half like they always do, so let's set the Sox up with 7 in a row against Baltimore and KC so they can have a showdown in NY. Oh, and just to make sure it all happens right, let's throw the Yanks out to LAA so they at least don't win the series and spoil everything." Oh curse you schedule makers and your lack of proper future seeing.

Buchs tonight. Lock up your laptops.

Also, from the music vault. If you haven't done so, check out Green Day's new CD and more specifically the B-sides with their cover of "Like a Rolling Stone". Gotta love Ipods when they shuffle just right in the morning.

You just got Greink'd!!!

I hate the whole "Well, they're dangerous, they're not playing for anything right now..." argument. Personally, if I'm playing for nothing, I usually give up and go have a beer, but for some reason all baseball persons think a team like the Royals is dangerous because they are out of the playoff race (were in June) and just playing to prove something to themselves. Eff that. If I'm a team in playoff contention, I'm f*cking playing to make it into the playoffs and pick up my big, fat, stinky bonus world series check waiting for me at the end of October. If that "loving the game of baseball" thing doesn't get your juices flowing, well give a sh*t for the sake of the almighty buck. God, I hate getting Greink'd.

Abraham Youkilis

Abraham Youkilis.

you're welcome.

V-Mart

Hello all. I'm Victor Martinez, star catcher for the Boston Red Sox and proud owner of the Vmart chain of discount department stores. Vmart is proud to offer you a wide-range of wonderful products. Among the many things you'll see at our stores...

- We sell only things that begin with the letter 'V', like: vans, vegetables, and vacuums
- Instead of TVs, we sell VVs. Same thing, twice the 'V'.
- Mondays are our 'blue light' specials. Everything costs 55 cents (5=roman numeral V)
- At our in-house butcher shop, you'll find nothing but delicious venison.
- We've got a travel agency, where you can book vacations to Venezuela (my homeland).
-We've got used Volkswagens and Volvos that go "Vvvvvvvrooom".
- Check out our wonderful mattress section and catch up on a few 'Vvv's'
-You like Elvis? We've got 'Viva Las Vegas' playing on a loop.
- All our employees wear V-necks, including Frank Viola.
- We've got valet parking!

If you need me, I'll be in the 'Horrible Jokes' department.

Respectfully Yours,
-Victor

Blowpen

Against the Royals? Really? With the Yanks losing and all that 'taking the division' talk that has been going on? F*cking really?? Against the Royals? Christ. What a sh*tshow. More so what a missed opportunity. The Delcarmen/Bard connection was on last night for 6 runs in one inning. Gotta love seeing the pen explode 2 weeks before the playoffs against a team that has more losses per year than season ticket holders. That's rough, but when you put a fountain in your stadium you leave your team open to criticism. If it wasn't for both of my fantasy football teams making crazy comebacks during MNF I'd be pissed, but because my fortunes have turned right, I'll just say eff it and call it even.

7

It's really not that lucky of a number. Think gambling. In poker a 7 is one half of the "worst hand" you can have, 2-7. Craps, sure 7 is great on the first roll, but after that 7's (which has the highest probability of coming up on a 2 die roll) bust you up like the bookie you owe money to. Why do you owe money to him, because he gives out 7 point spreads because. The movie Se7en, that didn't work out well for anyone (What's in the boooooox?). Then there's all that freaky stuff like 7 wonders of the world, 7 continents (don't know how that's freaky, but it is), 7 spots on a lady bug. It goes on and on. Now though, 7 is magic. It's the number the Sox need to sure up their spot in the playoffs. Sure it's the wild card, but I've harped on plenty about how the WC is going to work out just fine.

Pats lost. Steve is going to be mad. I think I'm going to avoid him all day. Of course putting this up will not help things.

The Jets are funny.

I absolutely despise the Jets. Almost on a Yankee-level. And its not an easy 'hate' because they are one of the most sorry franchises in professional sport. Anyways, anybody who knows me knows that I also like making celebrity look-alike comparisons. But the one pictured above isn't a look-alike. The Jets were fooled... they actually did hire comedian Ron 'tater-salad' White to coach their football team. So while Jets fans will expect a team ready to conquer the Pats today, they'll get nothing more than wisecrack jokes about toilets and scotch whisky.

Elsewhere in jock news...

Sox won. Yankees won. Rangers won.

For those of you who still have playoff doubts or goals set on the division, you may want to run your eyes across this before you start betting the family's nest egg. Sox odds: 4.6% to win the division, 95.2% for the wild card, 99.8% to make it to the playoffs.

Time to dust off the count-down board, people. We're into single digits, the magic number is 9.

Jon Lester vs Orioles = Win

10-0 vs the O's. For those of you non-baseball nerds, that's a constant nut kicking. I had to re-check the stat sheet to see that, umm, Brian Anderson and Josh Reddick both hit home runs last night. For them to even get in the lineup takes an injury or an over aggressive lap dance to a regular starter, so when those guys start going bridge something is going right.

I can tell the playoffs are getting close because when I woke up this morning it was 51 degrees n the house downstairs. That means I forgot to shut the windows, and that October is nearly upon us. Down side, this is the time of the year that everyone forgets about baseball and puts the Pats first which is fine, but just remember folks, totally blocking out the Sox will strip them of their mojo. Just ask Dr. Evil.

Delonte "long arm of the" west

Police said a handgun was found in West's pocket, another in his pant leg and a shotgun in a guitar case strapped to his back. A shotgun in a guitar case strapped to his back? That is f*cking awesome. Was he going to duel Uma Thurman from Kill Bill or something? I didn't even know he played the guitar.

In baseball news, the Sox beat the O's. Not much has changed all season in that department. Why am I up so early on a Saturday morning? Oh yes, the Delonte West nightmares. Now I remember.

The magic, she is a gone

Well, all things in life aren't bad. Always Sunny made its season debut last night and judging by talking to all my friends, or just seeing their status thing-ees on Facebook, just about everyone in the world was watching. It was actually timed perfectly because right after the Sox lost you had just enough time to wrap your head around Youk being left in the on deck circle last night and trying to find Tek a bigger glove so you could tune right in to Sunny without missing a beat.

The Sox would have had to go on a Colorado-esque 2007 streak to finish the season to catch the Yanks this year, and even though I knew it was the pipiest of pipe dreams, somewhere in the back of my mind the thought still lingered for some unknown asking-for-punishment reason. Now it's gone. That's ok though, because the next 7 games are against Baltimore and Kansas City. That's 7 games that should let the boys build up plenty of steam before rolling into da Bronx and trying to keep the Yanks from winning number 100 against the boys. Right now, that should be the mission. Don't give the Yanks win #100. When you can't win, bring down everyone else around you.

Claisuke

Ladies and gentleman, I'd like to introduce you to Claisuke. He is the genetic product of combining Clay Buchholz and Daisuke Matsuzaka. We thought we would take it upon ourselves to solve the debate on who the Sox will try to line up as their 3rd starter heading into the playoffs (insert playoff jinx disclaimer here). We brought their respective DNA samples (google image search) into our Educated Cheese labs (Microsoft Paint) and created a Clay-Dice hybrid. The result?... a naturally gifted athlete who frustrates everybody with walk after walk, but never lets a run score, has an abnormally long neck, and dates a 'Deal or No Deal' suitcase model.
Now that we've settled that, the Cheese Science Department will start on an outfielder slugger for next year.

Caption Contest!

"I farted. so what?"

"I have no idea why I'm a major league manager. I look like you, an umpire."

"Hey, you seen my neck?"

Start the playoffs NOW!!!

The Sox will not play better baseball this year, next year, or any year that I'm alive. The Angels know damn well they very well could be facing these guys again in 3 weeks and they have to be sh*tting themselves in horror. There is no good, all-around baseball team that strikes LESS fear in my heart than the Halos. They pushed the Sox to the limit last night only to get b*tched slapped at the end by Nick Green and Alex Gonzalez, the least feared of all the Gonzalezesesses. Add last night to the past Angel performances in the playoffs and they become about as threatening as a fat kid in a foot race.

You see that guy up there? He pitches tonight. It's not a question of how he pitches, it's a question of how many Angels players ears he rips off and wears around his neck because right now, that's what the Sox do. Well, that's always what Beckett does, but I would have sworn I saw an ear-lace around Bay's neck the other day. The boys take this one tonight and then go steam rolling through Baltimore and I'm writing a letter to Selig convincing him to have the playoffs start next Monday, and perhaps mentioning the where abouts of his dog.

Kid throws foul ball away...

And yet another post from me today. Check out this video from last night's Phillies game...
http://mlb.mlb.com/media/video.jsp?content_id=6663629

That dad deserves a "Father of the Year" award for restraining from yelling at his kid. We could have monster seats and my dad would throw me over the edge without thinking if I pulled a stunt like that.

He lost a foul ball, but you know that guy is going to use tape of that incident when she gets older...
Girl: "Dad, I need to take your car to the party tonight. Everyone is going."
Dad: "You? Take my car? Hmm, let's go to the video tape..."

A Good Old-Fashioned Ugly Contest

Don Mossi or John Lackey.

Vote for the ugliest guy in the comments section. Winner gets a paper bag to hide their mug.

Wednesday Food Talk

I figure Wednesday is as good of a day as any to talk about food.

We'll start with an open letter to Chipolte...

Dear Chipolte,
On a warm September day, I came home to find a coupon for a free Chipolte burrito in my mailbox . The coupon basically said "Hey Steve, come to Chipolte and get fat on us." And I'm not turning that offer down. Despite your past affiliation with the land of Big Macs, your burritos are delicious and addictive. I would not be surprised to find out that you wrap nicotine in those tortillas. And now as I sit here with a stomach full of black beans, rice, and mysterious Mexican sauces, I feel all the more unhealthy, tired, and generally unmotivated to do anything for the rest of the day. Your burrito wins.

Sincerely,
Educated Steve
_________
So anyways, on the topic of baseball (which I think is the theme of this blog), the Yanks and Jays brawled last night. The Blue Jays decided to ignite a fight because beating up guys in pajamas is way more fun than playing mediocre baseball, and I couldn't agree more. Though I don't know if I start a fight with the Yankees for the simple fact that C.C. could mistake you for a couch and decide to sit on you at any time. Back in Boston though, Frasier takes the hill.

No "Dice-Pun" here.

It is not 1925, therefore, puns are no longer considered the pinnacle of comedic genius, unless of course you're talking to my mother. Anyways, I probably wouldn't know what such a high level of comedic genius looked like if it walked up to me, introduced itself, put on a name tag and beat the bag out of me with a comedic genius stick. However, this means no "Dice-Dice-Baby" title today, sorry "Dice way to start off the series", and "Sox Rolling the Dice". It's just not happening.

Now that the formalities are out of the way, Matsuzaka did pitch a pretty damn good game. Hell, the guy should be beyond well rested right now, seeing as he hasn't really played since March or whenever the WBC was. It will take more than one good outing before I jump back on the Dice-K wagon, but taking a game against a team you very well might see in 3 weeks again is a nice start.

Patrick Swayze died

Patrick Swayze died. As you may remember, he was an award-winning horse that won two Kentucky Derbies and claimed the Triple Crown in 1979. Wait, oh...its the guy ON the horse who died. Sorry about that. The horse is fine.

Tom Brady and the Patriot Football people won!!

I'll admit it, I'm not a huge Pats fan. Sure I've more or less jumped on the wagon the last 7 years with all the fun times like winning Super Bowls and such, but if it wasn't for my crippling fantasy football addiction (down to only 2 teams this year) I wouldn't be nearly as interested. It's impossible NOT to be a Pats fan around here, but in my opinion football season doesn't really start til the end of October, or on off years whenever the Red Sox season ends. I've put 8 solid months into this years Sox team and I'm not giving it up til it's over.

That being said, the 3 game taint-handing of the Rays should be signs of things to come for the next month or so. The Sox know that the Pats have started and are trying to steal the sports attention thunder in Boston and they are not happy about it. So unhappy infact that they trot Dice-K out to mound tonight against John Lackey. I was at the game last year that Lackey nearly no-hit the Sox until Beardy knocked one over the monster. Dice should be fresh to say the least, so let's get it on!!

Daily dose of d*uche

Alas, the football season is upon us. And while the Red Sox cross the T's and dot the lowercase J's on the wild card for the next couple weeks, we hope to be distracted by an endless stream of Patriot touchdowns. In just a few short hours the lights turn on at Gillette, and so begins the Brady show.... again... hopefully. I'm excited.

Anyways, on the topic of football, you may be familiar with Cris Collinsworth, announcer for NBC's Sunday Night football, and d*uchebag extraordinaire. Cris added to his d*uche resume this week when this incriminating You Tube video surfaced. Its a young Cris, during his playing days, describing his dating philosophies (you can spare yourself the 80's commercials by fast forwarding to the 42-second mark...)
_________
"I'm not gonna deny it, I walk around with hundred dollar bills hanging out of my pocket...I like girls that aren't too bright because you can trick 'em a little bit...high school girls love me. Fourteen to eighteen, I'm a big star with them. As soon as they mature, after they turn 18 years old, they start to figure it out."

_________

Nice work, Cris. Couldn't have said it better myself. Trick 'em. Cris Collinsworth: Master Magician.

(Also, is there any better medium to destroy reputations than YouTube? I mean they might as well buy the rights to www.Black-Mail.com.)

Two a days

I never played football, so the term "two a day" doesn't make me cringe like it might make some ex-football players do. To me, it just means doing something twice in one day, like eating 2 cheese burgers instead of one, or drinking two beers per NFL game yesterday (admittedly that turns into more of a 12 a day, but after 3 games you stop counting). In baseball terms, it means putting the new country music sensation "Clay and Jon" on the hill for a Sunday double header and reminding the Rays that 2007 was indeed a fluke. The Sox outscored the Rays 16-2 this weekend. In short, they handed Sir Spits-a-lot and Big Game James their respective taints, and their 11th loss in a row, and are now enjoying a well deserved Monday off.

Of course an off day means we'll come up with something stupid that we find funny, and a lot of you find stupid. If you aren't used that yet, please check out some older posts and get re-acquainted with our funny.

A win is a win

A 6 inning win is a 6 inning win too. Beckett looked ready to beat down the Rays all night but the mighty rain Gods only let it go 6. To make things even better, the deadly M's took care of the Rangers which makes the Sox 3 up in the honorable wild card race.

Is it just me, or does the wild card feel dirty? Obviously it worked some magic in 04, but after taking the division in '07 the WC feels, well, like 2nd best, which I guess it is. I know I shouldn't be complaining, but apparently I am. It was easier to accept the Rays taking the division, but now with the Yanks approaching a 100 win season (which the Sox haven't had since Teddy Ballgame) it just further drives home the point that the Sox are the 2nd best team out there and there's a good margin between the 2.

What would help me is 2 wins today and a tighter grab around the nuts of the WC. Yup, that will do alright by me.

Thanks rain

I had nothing going on last night but a 99 cent pizza, a few beers and a date with NESN but the rain felt like ruining my chance at the perfect night. Now we wait. Sunday is a double header and today is another rain filled day that already effed up my tee time this morning so we'll see what happens with tonight's game.

However, Dunkin Donuts is open and Field of Dreams is on. And they serve beer at golf courses at 7:30 AM. Might not be the worst day ever.

Also...

...while on the topic of names, this is awesome.
Magnus Ver Magnusson!

Memo to future parents

Look, I'm no bully. Never have been. And barring a career change to a professional wrestler, I never will be. But when you come across somebody with a hilarious name, instinct tells you to make fun of them. And there's no reason to fight this instinct. Why? Because people with unfortunate and ridiculous names are not victims of disease, and they don't deserve your pity... they're victims of human error and stupidity, which I like to consider a form of child neglect. So when you happen across funny names, under Educated Cheese by-laws, you are allowed to make fun of them at will.

Case in point, Roy Halladay.
Except his given name isn't Roy. It's Harry. Harry Leroy Halladay.

Take a moment. Say it out loud to yourself.

Harry Halladay.

What the f*ck were his parents thinking? Was he sired by Dr.Suess? Harry Halladay. Sounds like a clumsy magician who never quite perfected Houdini's methods. I mean, credit to Roy here for tricking people to name him Roy and Doc instead of Harry. He could have been known by his goofy cartoonish persona, Harry Halladay, and been yet another sad victim of poor parenting. But instead he's Roy, a dominant major league pitcher with a Cy Young award to his credit.

So what's my point? Well, I guess I don't really have one. But I can assure you, if that a$$hole is wearing pinstripes this time next year, his name is f*cking Harry.

Quick Question

Q: How loud can you listen to AC/DC while driving to work on a Friday morning?

A: Louder than you are.

Sure, it's kind of a trick question, but it's true. There are no limits on music volume on a Friday morning which includes "Thunderstruck". Short week, Friday is here already, the Sox are at home facing the Rays instead of stuck in that hollowed out grapefruit down in Florida AND the Rays are headed in a downward motion faster than half the patrons at an A-rod slumber party. Great time to get some space in that wild card lead and give the home town crowd something to cheer about in the 2nd to last regular season homestand. Gimme a few W's this weekend, maybe the Rangers run into some tough luck and the boys can start thinking October.

Hollywood, hear our call!

Not to be a jerk or nothing, but Hollywood needs The Cheese. There is no doubt we love baseball movies. I've seen "The Rookie" 18 times, and I'm referring to the Charlie Sheen cop movie, not the Dennis Quaid baseball movie. I watch it just in case those fat cats over at TBS decide to switch things up in the middle and give me some Jimmy Morris like I asked for. As proven movie aficionados, here are some ideas of how to spruce up your regular baseball movies, and give the movie-loving public something they deserve...

Summer Catch & Release - Starring Freddie "fast pitch noise" Prinze and Jessica Biel. Freddie quickly throws his arm out in the majors (it was pretty clear seeing as Griffey hit one out off him in the movie) and Freddie is now destined to return to the Cape and become a fisherman. Thing is, he's a horrible fisherman because everything he catches, he throws back into the ocean. Hence the "release" part of the movie. We figure putting Freddie back on the Cape and on a boat gives Jessica Biel plenty of time to be in a bikini and eventually find out her true love is a jerkass blogger located in southern NH.

Diehard: The Fan - Bruce Willis reprises his role as John McClane. The movie opens with McClane slumped over his tattered recliner in his living room and once the camera pans towards the front of him we see a Mets hat and jersey. McClane is not happy, his Mets are cellar-dwellers again, and he's determined to get revenge. Our hero goes on a tear, charges into Omar Minaya's office (he's a cop, he can do that) only to find out that Omar is dead and the Mets are being run by terrorists. 2 hours and 18 explosions later, the Mets still suck.

A League of Their Own 2: Back to the Kitchen - In a blatantly sexist spin on the original movie, Dottie Henson and her friends from the ballfield return back to the domestic grind of a 1950's post-war household. In an ironic twist, Madonna pumps out 9 of her own kids who start the first all-infant baseball team. (Thanks to Cheese-reader John for this suggestion)

Rookie of the Fear - This will be the first movie in what expects to be dozens of baseball/horror movies coming out in the next year. Henry Rowengardner breaks his arm but then a bone chips off and clogs some artery in his arm or something and he dies. Rather than die easy, he haunts the Cubs (as if they needed more help) by living in the ivy and continues to haunt Cubs fans until they stop throwing stuff at visiting outfielders. Steve Bartman also has a small role in the movie as a baseball.

And some quickies...

Mr.3000 : The Sequel – Can’t cast Bernie Mac for obvious reasons, so instead they completely change the plot of the movie, instead of hits… 3000 walks. Bring your pillow.

The Unnatural – Roy Hobbs. On steroids. Except the only person who knows he’s juicing is his coach. Who’s also his supplier. All goes to hell when the league does an investigation and releases the Hobbs Report.

Little Big Horn League – First war/ baseball movie ever. You thought getting on base was tough, try getting to second base with a bunch of raging Indians in your way. John Kruk plays General Custer.

The Sandy Lot - a group of kids who play pick up baseball while parking cars at a beach down the Cape.

Field of Wet Dreams - Its like field of dreams but with WAAAAY more nudity. If you build it, they will "come." (Thanks to Cheese-reader Steve K. for this suggestion)

Damn Yankees - a documentary of Steve and I watching a Sox/Yanks game and swearing for 3.5 hours straight.

There's Something About Larry- Along the lines of "There's something About Mary", except that its a documentary about Larry Bird co-starring Jessica Biel who plays a reformed stripper/model/hot chick who eventually finds out that her true love is a jerkass blogger located in southern NH.

Back to the Ventura - Robin Ventura makes a time machine out of one of the old bullpen cars then travels back in time to prevent the 2009 Red Sox from ever signing John Smoltz. Feel good movie of the year.

Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim California Burbank Compton Rodeo Drive Hollywood in the Outfield – Kids try to decide on a new name for the Angels.

Hell's Angels in the Outfield - Tony Danza tries playing baseball but gets violently beaten by an unruly motorcycle gang. (Thanks to Cheese-reader Steve K. for this suggestion)

Good News Bears - A baseball team that preaches the followings of the Lord. Billy Bob Thorton makes a cameo as the devil.

Eight Men Out of the Closet - The inspiring tale of the first openly gay baseball team, the 2004 New York Yankees.(Thanks to Cheese-reader John for this suggestion)

Dirty Work - Starring Dustin Pedroia and Norm MacDonald. Norm does his normal thing while Dustin just slides around everywhere getting dirty and yelling at people.

(we'll be adding more Hollywood ideas as we go along, so be sure to stay updated by clicking Henry's face on the right side bar. And if you're a Hollywood producer looking to turn our ideas into a real movie, you probably shouldn't be a Hollywood producer.)

One shot one kill

That shot of V-mart doesn't look very dangerous, but the guy's a freakin menace. He came in last night, bases juiced, game in limbo and delivered a 3 RBI double on the first pitch he saw that put the Sox ahead of a somewhat pesky O's team. I also refuse to even talk about B-Wags in case my world famous jinx works its' magic.

And why the hell can't the Rangers or Yankees lose? If you're still looking at the AL East, well then sir/madam you are a better person than I, or at least have done a lot more mind altering drugs in the last 2 months, but that Wild Card thing needs to happen and the Rangers are constantly giving out beatings to every team that crosses their paths. I don't know what happened to my vow to not watch baseball for a while.

Misery loves company

As we head down the stretch run of MLB's pennant/ wild card race, we will inevitably be subjected to overwhelming criticism of the local nine. Media folk, the jerk co-worker by the water cooler, that strange in-law at a family BBQ who's name you completely forgot. Bill? Harry? Enrique? the hell is that guy's name? Everybody has an opinion on the Sox, and they will share it with you whether you like it or not, likely full of obvious nuggets of absurdity. Sox aren't lighting things on fire and threaten to cough up the lead to those dipsh*ts in Texas? SCREW THOSE GUYS!!! Lester throws a gem? HEY, THE SOX GOT A CHANCE AGAINST ANYBODY!!! Fairweatherness: the cornerstone of New England sports fandom. Night in, night out, I assure you, this is how the next 4-8 weeks of baseball will go. But I'm not telling you anything new. This is the same sh*t people do every year. Its what makes it fun for us fans: blind speculation and mindless armchair analysis.

Anyways, I can only take so much scrutiny this year. The economy is down, football doesn't arrive until Monday, and cold weather is peaking its head into September. I need something positive. Something uplifting. Some perspective. So I can't think of anybody better to deliver good news than former Celtics coach, and recently deemed sleazeball, Mr. Rick Pitino. Rick, the floor is yours...

Rick: "Thanks, Steve. Hello all, nice to be back here in Boston."

Media guy#1: "Mr.Pitino, the Sox are rolling into September in a state of mediocrity. Whats your take?"

Rick: "Hey, anonymous media guy, Roger Clemens is not walking through that door. Ellis Burks is not walking through that door. Darren Bragg is not walking through that door. And if you expect them to walk through that door, they're going to be gray and old."

Media guy #1: "Darren Bragg?"

Rick: "Yeah, Darren friggin' Bragg. You want to fight me?"

Media guy #2: "Coach, the Sox starting rotation appears to flounder against seemingly inferior opponents, especially Josh Beckett. Can we expect this to continue into October?"

Rick: "You know what... all the negativity in this town, it sucks!!! It just plain sucks."

Media guy #3: "Rick, you're a college basketball coach.... from Louisville. What in the world are you doing here in Boston answering questions about baseball?"

Rick: "I think I'm the pawn in a dead-end Educated Cheese post."

Bombs away

Two nights ago Prince hit a walk off HR in extras. The Brewers celebrated. See photo. When Princey got to home plate and jumped on it, all his teammates fell down like a bomb went off. Ignoring the disrespect factor that a lot of old farts are trying to bring up surrounding Da Bomb (patent pending), I thought it was frigging awesome. Baseball is the game of old rules and even older traditions that hasn't seen anything new for years (excuse me instant replay) and this was kind of cool. Do I want to see this every time someone hits a walk off? Hell no. Is it cool to see once by a 300 lb guy that wears what has to be a custom Brewers sheet mended into a shirt? Hell yes. Since most MLB players are probably reading this right now, here are some other ideas for some walk off hi jinx. Use at your own discretion though gentlemen as we walk a very thin line with Dictator Selig and the anti-fun brigade.

The Slalom: Line up a dozen or so guys behind the plate and once the guy who hit the jack gets there, he can rip through those guys like Bode Miller. Then get drunk, just like Bode Miller.

Leapfrog: Maybe 5 or 6 at the most, we don't want to anger anyone.

Any more ideas? Leave em in the comments.

Also, the duplicity of the title comes to life because the Sox were hitting bombs like it was Yankee Stadium last night. A total beat down of the O's in a game where Ortiz AND Drew go bridge in the same game. Wow. At this point I expect A-Gon to go yard (which he did) more than Ortiz. That's right David, that right there is motivation. Prove me wrong, Papi.

I liked Waterworld

Ha, like hell I did. Dirt being worth something, how cinematic. Kostner should stick to either baseball or golf movies and that's it. Yesterday some channel (maybe up in the #800's I forget) showed Tin Cup and Bull Durham back to back. I didn't stick around long enough to see if Field of Dreams or For Love of the Game were on afterwards, but some old classic Kosty (not Kotsay) made for a decent lazy Monday off. If I had one question to ask one actor it would probably be how many times Kostner has pulled a Tin Cup in a pro-am and done the "snap" and "give me another one, Romes" line just to get a huge larf (not laugh) out of the crowd. I do it all the time just to get myself going. Some people are so easy to amuse.

Why no post game wrap up? No analysis? I don't want to talk about it. I've officially gone into the part of the season where I strongly believe the less you pay attention and the less you care, the better the Sox will do. It's part "cutting ties" in case they totally eat it then I'm that much further away from the flaming wreckage and it's part superstition. Of course I'll also run out of interesting movie quotes and the other quirky material I sometimes provide pretty quickly, so chances are I'll be back on baseball pretty soon.

Jon Lester is the new Jon Lester

And I like that Jon Lester. He does what needs to be done and it's great to see one of the top guys showing up in September. That other top guy, Beckett, he gets a chance to show that he means business tonight and I think he's going to do just that. You can not possibly keep that guy down for this long. I don't listen to all this crap about how people think something is wrong with his mechanics or his velocity is down. Those people think too much and when you start thinking, things go wrong. He's gotta go out there and just let it rip because that's what Josh Beckett does. In the words of the great Tin Cup, "Let the big dog eat."

I think I broke my Kotsay

Karma. Mark Kotsay (wife featured here, here and here) going bridge twice in 2 games against his old team. I wish the Sox weren't his latest "old team". However last night was the Gavin Floyd show for most of the evening. I don't really see the karma in that, but the first example works much better.

I guess my whole "getting your ass kicked one night and bringing the pain the next" was just a little too much to ask. Speaking of two much to ask, Steve and I constantly berate JD Drew via emails, phone messages and primitive Mayan drawings (aka Sox Toons using MS paint) but I think it's time we move on to Ortiz. He had that week in August with a Papi-like 5 HRs and more RBIs than we could all count (13) but since then it's been back to the 09 version of Ortiz we all don't really know. This is the call-out. Senor Ortiz, it's time to step it up. I'm not asking for an 06 swat fest, I'm not even asking for some kind of amazing comeback to what we call "Papi-form", I'm just looking for getting that average up around the .240 mark and delivering a hit or two when needed. If our Drew lashings have taught us anything, THIS will work. Expect big things people.

THANK YOU SIR MAY I HAVE ANOTHER

Not even a rousing game of "10 degrees of Bacon" can heal the wounds of last night. At least now we know how Junky Tazawa will be used for the rest of the season. A butt whooping loss like that can only anger the troops to the point of where tonight has the potential to be a spark for the rest of the series. It also has the potential for Youk to go barreling into the White Sox dugout and smack Ozzie Guillen right in his pie-hole for some of his comments. While there was nothing that crazy said last night, at least not on the Ozzie-Meter, there's always the chance he gives us something cool to write about. So for tonight, I say a taint handing to the pale Sox and some good Ozzie quotes about how he hates Wake's knuckler and his team is a bunch of fairies.

Baseball + Marine life = Crazy

Nice work by the good guys last night to finish off those jerks from the Sunshine State. But as a person with minimal attention span, I quickly became distracted when the NESN cameras reminded us of one of the many eye sores at Tropicana Field... the tank of devil rays in centerfield. Really? You need to put an aquarium of the team mascot in the stadium? Look, if its the Tampa Bay Pissed-off Great White Sharks, I'm on board... put a tank of those suckers beyond the outfield wall, throw a few dolphins in there for food, and I'm buying front row seats, er, maybe 10th row. But a tank of mild-mannered sting rays? Kids pet these things at Sea World. And despite having a stinger, as near as I can tell, only one crazy a$$hole in the history of mankind was capable of aggravting them enough to use it. So I ask you, loyal Cheese readers, is the Ray tank an obnoxious gimmick that mocks the old thyme sanctity of baseball? Or is it a clever educational novelty? Maybe it'll spark a new trend, who knows...

_________

Red Sox - In an attempt to boost ticket revenues among kids under age 12, Sox management puts a giant 'Sock Drawer' next to the visitor bullpen. All goes well, until it becomes known that they're Kevin Youkilis' used socks.

Phillies - The Phillies' recent acquistion of Pedro Martinez wasn't intended to have him pitch, but rather help construct the world's largest mound of cream cheese.

Pirates - The Pirates don't draw much these days, and the crowds only got thinner after an incident involving real pirates forcing fans to walk the plank off the outfield wall.

Orioles - In a scene right out of Hitchcock's "Birds", thousands of orioles descend upon Camden Yards, giving the stadium the nickname "The Aviary". No injuries. Lots of bird poop.

Diamondbacks - Snakes. everywhere. Sam Jackson is nowhere to be found.

Indians - nevermind. too violent.

Cubs - Oh yeah, you think they're cute. Little known fact about bear cubs though, eating ivy that grows on walls makes them go crazy.

Rockies - During the 4th inning of every game, boulders randomly flood the stands. Dangerous yes, but just think about all the geology the kids can learn.

Brewers - Nevermind the tank of Rays, the Brew Crew ups the ante, by filling their entire stadium with beer. Fans rejoice.

Sox Toons, Episode 1

Sox-Yanks, September game, critical moment, Tek makes his way to the mound...

“Ok, Wake, I think we go with another knuckleball here. A-Rod will never suspect it.”


“Whaddya think for dinner? Italian or Japanese? Theres that new joint in Downtown Crossing.”

“Huh?”

“Food, Tek. This game is over.”

“Its bases loaded in the 5th and we’re up by 1, that’s why I came out to the mound. This game is far from over.”

“Aren't you hungry though? We have to get here at 4pm for every 7pm game, we never have time for dinner.”

“But its 6-5, A-Rod is up and hes already taken you deep. Oh, Matsui is on deck.”


“You’re right, lets get Japanese.”