Formerly Felines for Anarchistic Green Democracies

A Bostonian at the University of Michigan.


There will also be discussion of the New England Patriots, Miami Dolphins, and Michigan Wolverines. Probably in that order.

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Spelling rant
Yankee Star Wars
A Tigers Comedy of Errors
How bad is Keith Foulke really?
Harry Potter and the Boston Red Sox
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Joey Harrington blogs a baseball game
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Thursday, October 21, 2004  
NO COHERENCY. NO COHERENCY. OH MY GOD WE'RE GOING TO THE WORLD SERIES. OH MY GOD WE BEAT THE YANKEES. OH MY GOD IT WAS GAME 7. OH MY GOD IT WAS IN THE BRONX. OH MY GOD IT WAS DEREK LOWE PITCHING. OH MY GOD JOHNNY DAMON GRAND SLAM. OH MY GOD DAVID ORTIZ. OH MY GOD MARK BELLHORN. OH MY GOD CURT SCHILLING.

No, you know what? Lemme just do this now. I. Love. This. Team.

Bronson Arroyo: Everyone's been saying you've got balls the size of Saturn. I refuse to speculate on this, but you were great for us in the regular season, and you kicked butt in an inning here or there when we needed you now. You wear your cornrows with a bizarre sort of pride, and you're standing tall among the veterans and holding your own. Dude. Thank you.

Mark Bellhorn: Do I even need to say it? You slumped like an invertebrate, tantalizing us with thoughts that you were done for the season. Then you go and get some dinky hits that revive us a little. Then you hit a three-run homer in what was the most important game of the season at that point. Then you ring one off the pole tonight, and crack something that looked suspiciously like a smile when you got back to the bench. Dude. Thank you.


This doesn't really need a caption, does it?


Orlando Cabrera: You crazy little man. It seemed like a trillion balls were hit your way tonight, and you just made play after play after play. It was beautiful to see. I don't think there's anyone in Boston right now who would want Nomar over you. You have a special dance with Pokey, you are one of us. Welcome to the Boston Red Sox, hope you enjoy the ride! Dude. Thank you.

Johnny Damon: Um. Yeah. Shut down by Yankee pitching for the whole frikking series? Did it matter? You're Johnny Damon! The Mountain Man! Jesus in the Outfield! 'Sexy Beast', according to my RA, with whom I so rarely agree about baseball. I guess you were saving it all for Game 7. Grand slam... then a home run. Dude. Thank you.

Alan Embree: Seeing you up there on that mound at the end of the Game 7, the gum or whatever it is bulging out your cheek and making you look for all the world like an anthropomorphic chipmunk... man. You know what? It made me feel good. In my mind I was saying, "Oh, look, it's Embree. We'll be alright now." That's how big you've been lately out of our 'pen (note my mind selectively forgetting that 19-8 game). Dude. Thank you.

Keith Foulke: Wow. You closed one game. Then... you closed another. And another. You just kept going, kept pitching, night after night. When you got that last, torturous out in Game 6, I think I died and was reborn. In a totally non-Jesus kind of way, that's Johnny's department. I just realized that could be a newspaper headline: Jesus Reborn, with a picture of Damon hitting the grand slam. Bets on whether the Herald uses it or not? Ah, this is about Foulke. You stuck it to 'em, buddy, and I can't believe you pitched as many balls as you did. Dude. Thank you.

Gabe Kapler: I know you haven't been playing a lot this series, but that is immaterial. You've been pretty good when you were in, you're swallowing your pride in place of team pride. This is what makes a great Red Sox player. You've also been unanimously declared the Hottest Jewish Sports Figure Ever, if that's something you'd like to contemplate. Dude. Thank you.

Curtis Leskanic: I admit, I had Doubts. But you ultimately put those to rest, pitching your probably quite tired heart out a couple of games ago, slogging through those long games and those extra innings with solid pitching that we would not have won without. You've fully embraced the hair and the beard of the modern-day Red Sox, and it warms my heart, it does. Dude. Thank you.

Derek Lowe: Holy shit. I'm supposed to be able to say something brief for Lowe? You FUCKING ROCKED. You know you're probably not going to be here next year (although now we kind of want you, heh), you know you weren't even supposed to be the starter in any game this series. You didn't care. You pitched a solid game before this to get us here, and you pitched a spectacular game tonight. Adversity leapt early and you buckled down to keep the Yanks down. You did what no one ever thought you would or could do. Dude. Thank you.


Watching Game 4 with the crew from Tufts. We saw Derek Lowe throw his first gusty game of the series, and what a game it was.


Pedro Martinez: The year certainly would have been a lot duller without you around, huh? Midgets, jheri curls, giving the Yankees a new and ultimately futile chant... ups and downs in your record following the ups and downs of your pitching arm. If this does indeed turn out to be your last season in Boston... well, we'll miss you. A lot. We're glad to have had you this year. Dude. Thank you.

Ramiro Mendoza: You were brought onto the playoffs roster because someone had a premonition that we'd need more pitching, and boy are we glad you ended up on there. If we'd had one less pitcher this series, we might not have won it. You may not have been the most sterling pitcher out there, and I may indeed have lambasted you mere entries ago, but tonight the world is beautiful and you were the extra arm that got us time to warm or rest the other arms that we needed to use. Dude. Thank you.

Doug Mientkiewicz: Doug, you are so frelling good in the field, it takes my breath away. I am inutterably glad that you did end up getting playing time in this series. I know you like to play, and I know you're used to playing, so seeing your graceful willingness to sit on the bench, seeing your selflessness and your intense desire to just see this team win, even when you didn't start the year with the Sox... we cannot thank you enough. Dude. Thank you.

Kevin Millar: You madly haired man, what would this team have been without you? Who would have rallied the troops? Who would run around hugging everyone within reach? Who would bring the Amish shovel beard back into style? Who would embrace and coddle and nurture this team's collective personality, bringing to light a style of play and cranial attire that has truly captured the essence of the team? Who would have dared to frost their tips? Dude. Thank you.

Doug Mirabelli: You are a freaking good catcher. This needs to be said. It's not everyone who can catch a knuckler. Any other team in Major League Baseball would love to have you. Even though you don't get top billing or constant playing time, you're on the Red Sox. We always know we can go to you if we have to. You have no idea how comforting that thought is to fans. Dude. Thank you.

Bill Mueller: How do you consistently put in such solid hitting? It seems like we can always count on you to get us a hit when we need it. They didn't name you a batting champ for nothing. And your play at third is so consistently good that we've almost started taking those laser throws across the infield for granted. Also, you're wicked hot. Just so you know. Dude. Thank you.

Mike Myers: Has there ever been such a bizarre pitcher for the Sox? And I mean that fondly. The fact that you make it possible for us to pitch situationally is still something I'm trying to wrap my brain around. I mean.. situational pitching? That's so weird for the Sox. And you make it all possible, with that crazy delivery of yours that always makes my eyes bulge. Dude. Thank you.

Trot Nixon: Thank the heavens for you in right field. Yeah. You've made numerous killer grabs in this series and before, diving all over the place and generally driving the collective heart rate of Red Sox Nation through the roof. I don't understand how you get all the white stuff on your hat, but if you keep fielding like you have been it could be cocaine for all I care. Keep up the hitting, too. Dude. Thank you.

David Ortiz: Um, yeah. Yeah, do I really have to say it? You are the Yankees' Daddy. You are our Big Papi. This team and this fanbase has nothing but respect and awe for you. You are amazing. Game after game after game after game, you keep us breathing and hoping and winning. Congrats on the MVP, I can't and won't say that you're the only one who deserved it on this team, but you TOTALLY deserved it in and of yourself. You fucking rock. Dude. Thank you.


This goes here because Ryan, my RA (the guy all the way on the right), is our big reverse mojo man. He comes in, bashes the Sox, gets us all riled up, and then the Sox make a beautiful play, usually a la Ortiz. This is right after we won the ALCS tonight. I am just a little bit crazed. Bobby is sweaty but it does not matter, because we won! And Ashley is only a sort-of fan, but no one can ignore these sorts of game.


Manny Ramirez: Man, Manny, where have you been these series? A dink hit here and there, a botched run or fielding play... ah, you know I'm just kidding. You're Manny. You're our Manny. There is not a chance in heaven or hell or morning studio classes (worse than hell, often) that we would have gotten to the postseason without your sturdy bat in the regular season. We simply would not be here without you. Dude. Thank you.

Pokey Reese: Pokey! Pokey! Pokey! You know the crowd loves you, and you know that the crowd are the fans. Need we say more? You totally stepped it up for us this year, coming in to play exactly when we needed you to do so. You caper about with Cabby, you leap acrobatically at 2nd, you get the fans a-chanting. Dude. Thank you.

Dave Roberts: I know I've said this a million times in here, but... I love watching you run. You are just so freaking fast and so good at stealing, and this is so very something that the Sox have not been able to do in the past and I'm just generally in awe. You come in when we need you, you do exactly what we need you to do, you twist and turn and race down the baselines and score us the runs when we desperately need the runs. Dude. Thank you.

Curt Schilling: Heh. Yeah. You. You just... you pitched. With your ankle literally stitched together to stabilize it, suffering what must be immense pain and risking your entire future career to get this team to a Game 7. You had 7 innings with one run and not one single walk. You... you... you beautiful pitching radio host bashing fan website following huge hearted man. We love you. More than words can accurately convey. Dude. Thank you.

Mike Timlin: Man, how much have you pitched recently? A whole frikking lot, I'd say. All those long games, all those innings... innings upon innings, games following right on the heels of previous games... and you were just one great big heart in our bullpen, giving us what we needed to get these things won. Seeing you wildly cheer on your teammates from the bullpen was a lovely moment. Dude. Thank you.

Jason Varitek: Please please please come back next year. You are a great catcher. You are an amazingly clutch batter. You have all that power to get the ball way out, and even if you don't you have the unexpected but immense speed to hustle the bases. You are the proud owner of one of the few unequivocably hot facial hair constructions on this team (Mueller has another one). You beat up A-Rod. Tek. You beat up A-Rod. Dude. Thank you.

Tim Wakefield: You've been on this team how long? 10 years? You have seen this team through thick and thin, you have pitched your heart out for us again and again over the long years. You provide us with a scary wildcard of a pitcher in our lineup, and when you're on watching that knuckler dance all over the plate is truly a beautiful sight. I hope we win it this year so you can finally be rewarded for all the blood, sweat, tears, and years that you've given to this team, this city, these fans. Dude. Thank you.

Everyone else on the team who's not currently on the playoffs roster... especially Youkilis, who was on it for the ALDS and was removed for the ALCS so that we could put on an extra pitcher: you guys also rock. We wouldn't be here without any of you. Enjoy the Series, because I certainly hope I'll be able to!

And I know it's not nearly as exciting as all the mass rioting going on in Boston right now, but here are the hardcore Boston fans who've been dealing with me all season thus far, amusing themselves by watching my madness and occasionally partaking of it themselves. I love the world right now, and I love my little enclave of Red Sox Nation version Midwest especially.


Me and Jun. He's not from Boston but he's a die-hard fan, and he knows all about the team and baseball in general, so it's great watching games with him. WE HAVE JUST WON THE ALCS so we're maybe a bit excited here. Maybe.


Brad, Beth, me, and George. Gingerly reassuring me when I was sobbing my sorry little heart out, carefully talking me down when I made as though I was going to rip my own head off, humoring me and dealing with my screaming and hugs when we finally won this thing. I LOVE YOU ALL. I LOVE THE WORLD. THE WORLD IS A LOVELY PLACE TODAY.


Yeah, I've got a midterm tomorrow. Guess I should go to sleep, but this needed to be done. It is not every day that the Feline Anarchist is filled with an all-consuming love. Today is that day. Today the Boston Red Sox beat the New York Yankees in Game 7 of the ALCS in Yankee Stadium. The score was 10-3. History was made, dreams were fulfilled, heroes were made, and legends were born. We're going to the World Series, I can wax lyrical if I wish.

And on that happy, happy note, I bid you all good night.

1:17 AM

 
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