Friday, September 16, 2005
The Sox game happened while I was in class today, so I didn't get to see it. Happily, the Tigers are on the west coast so I did manage to catch most of their rare victory (over Swollen Colon, no less). It was a very nice victory, with an inside-the-park homerun (Granderson), a beautiful leaping catch to rob one of them Molinas of a homerun (Granderson), and the silencing of a lot of rally-monkey-toting fans.
So I was cruising, what with the interminable day (9 am to 10:30 pm! very nearly straight through! hooray for college!) finally over and the weekend in sight (minus woodshop tomorrow), and the Tigers having beaten the bacon grease out of Bartolo's curly mop, and the insane babbling email my friend Jenna had left in my inbox that boiled down to The Farns' 13th save of the season, and all that. Then I remembered, ah, you know what, if they didn't get rained out the Sox just might have got their game in. I ought to check the score.
Cruising, remember. Tigers win, Farns does well, survived approximately 12 hours of classes, didn't slice anything off in wood, good football to look forward to, did I mention Tigers win? But, hey, gotta see what the Sox did.
Like a pedestrian going up onto the hood of a speeding vehicle with no regard for crosswalks.
At least Johnny was back, and hitting, even if I hear tell he was a bit tender on some of his throws. I guess that's about it for positives, especially when you factor in the leg-twisterification on poor Gabe Kapler last night. I am all in favor of heading down to the BirdDome or whatever they're calling it these days and just ripping up all their turf and throwing it up on top of the roof so that when they retracted it the clods could come raining down, rock-hard from prolonged exposure and ready to take out some players. Seriously. That fucking turf could have just cost Kapler his entire career. If there's a Hell for flooring products, I hope it goes and suffers an eternity of hellfire and heavily staining cat vomit.
Bad games are bad games, and everyone has a stretch of them, but I'd be much calmer about this if the nicest, smartest, prettiest (excepting Mr. Mueller, who really is a category all his own) guy on the team hadn't just gone down for no good reason at all, and if the Yanks weren't now only 1.5 games back. 1.5 games. This is not a lead we can count on, not with the Yanks playing to win these days and the Sox, apparently, playing to lose.
I'll try to watch the game tomorrow, I guess, but I can't promise I won't flip over to Smoltz/Pedro if the knuckler isn't knuckling. Once again, I'm just hoping for football this weekend. Because the battle of the Large Predatory Mammals (Lions/Bears) is a big one, and if Michigan loses to Eastern, I'm joining those suicidal kids in the row behind us and hurling myself down the stadium stairs.
In a futile attempt to bring some smiles to RSN's dark and joyless life right now, I bring you some Rod Allenisms from tonight's Tigers game. I've attempted to recreate his verbal emphasis, but if you haven't heard him before I'm afraid you may be missing out.
Rod on Orlando Cabrera's batting helmet: Well he played in Boston last year, you KNOW all those cats have NASty stuff on their hats.
Rod after a foul ball nearly popped into their booth: Oh you got to look ALIVE up here!
Mario Impemba, his broadcasting partner: Shoulda brought my glove. You bring your glove?
Rod: No. *beat* I got you covered tonight. I got you covered.
Mario: As usual, heh, I'm countin' on you.
Rod: I got you covered. I got you covered. (waaaay too sincere, if you were trying to figure out what was funny here)
Rod upon seeing the replay of Curtis Granderson rounding the bases in the wake of his in-the-park homerun: He's smellin' it now! Now he's smellin it! And Sammy [third base coach Juan Samuel] is like, let's go!
Rod on Granderon's defensive play to steal a Molina homerun: Man that's pretty. That. Is. Pretty.
Rod on the Tigers' huge top of the 5th: Oh they beatin' on Colon like he STOLE somthin!
I feel like there was something else to say, but I can't for the life of me do so right now. Too tired. Too much Woe.