Monday, September 12, 2005
That, most unfortunately, was the Wizened Unit we all feared the Yankees were getting at the start of the year. The enormously tall and irritable left-hander, whose rage at the loss of his precious mullet is matched only by his hatred of Jorge Posada, giving him a curious and unexpected point of similarity to Pedro Martinez, yes, the very same, but this time around with the fastball to call to mind his old, fully mulleted glory days of yore.
Ugh. Bad enough to run up against that, bad enough to have it pitching for the Yankees. But to have Wake match him point for point, right down to the personal catcher (although not because Wake has any particular vendetta against Varitek; also without the unfortunate past hairstyle choices; and quite a few inches; and their personalities; and their pitching styles and you know what, they're nothing alike. SHUT UP!)... to have Wake give up 1 run on 3 hits with 12 strikeouts (12! 12! Roger fucking Clemens considers 10 a good day!) and still have this one go down in the books as a loss... ugh. Ugh.
I officially vomit upon this game.
I mean, I love Youks and all but, batting him third? He hits tolerably well against lefties, but, still. Third? Of course he was one of the only guys on the night to actually get a hit, so what the hell do I know.
I really don't want to talk about this anymore, it's too depressing, and I start thinking about the Fruitbat and how good he is and that depresses me, and then I start thinking about being depressed and that makes me start thinking about Chad Henne staring unseeingly down the field and chucking the ball to a nice bit of turf with no one on it and my eyes start to get all twitchy and then I accidentally break the pen I've got clenched in my teeth. You know how it goes.
If it's baseball stuff you want, I suggest you check out Rebecca and Jere (Parts 1, 2, and 3) for some amazing stories of Red Sox stalking and many, many glorious photos. I'm not jealous at all, honest. I also have to say that Keith Foulke rose somewhat in my estimation. Like with Curtis Granderson, I can't help but like the guys who are good with the fans.
And because I'm absolutely shameless, I demand you all go read Alan Trammell and the Grim, if only because I giggled while writing it, so it should be worth at least an eye-roll or two to you folks.
On to happier things. Like the image at the top of this posts suggests.
I will be wanting to post this every Sunday from now on, but for now, the first of the season.
Forward down the field!
A charging team that will not yield!
When the Blue and Silver wave,
Stand and cheer the brave!
Rah! Rah! Rah!
Go hard, win the game!
With honor you will keep your fame!
Down the field and gain
A Lions Victory!
Oh hells yeah. Hey, hey Brett Favre! You're OLD and you're BROKEN-DOWN and you HAVE NO EYEBROWS. You may have Ahman Green(bay) but we've got Kevin Jones! You may have, I don't even know, some dudes that are receivers, but we have like 12 more dudes that are receivers! Marcus Pollard whut whut! Mike Williams gets his first professional reception and it's for a touchdown! JOEY HARRINGTON THROWS THE BALL DOWNFIELD REALLY WELL AND LOOKS REALLY COMFORTABLE IN THE POCKET AND NO INTERCEPTIONS AND GENERALLY LOOKS HOT AND ALSO LIKE A QUARTERBACK WHO CAN ACTUALLY QUARTERBACK IF THAT WAS A VERB WHICH IT ISN'T BUT PERHAPS IT OUGHT TO BE! I'm sorry but I'm REALLY EXCITED!
The best bit? The one thing I was so fucking sure was going to kill us, our defense, the one thing we didn't go out and draft for and shore up right away... what did they do? They only went out and HELD THE BIG STINKY CHEESE TO THREE POINTS, THE FIRST TIME IN 5 SEASONS THAT THE CHEESE HAD NOT SCORED A TOUCHDOWN.
Penalties absolutely murdered Green Bay. I have a sneaking suspicion that we're going to have quite a few games like that, but luckily today was not one of them.
Charles Rogers fell down on his shoulder and DID NOT BREAK HIS COLLARBONE. It is, like, a first. He made it through one game. The possibilities for the future are endless.
There were only two downsides to this game. One was the fact that Jason Hanson tweaked a hamstring or something. He came in to kick two extra points just fine (the last one, especially, was fine... straight down the middle), but I'm not sure if it's something that will tighten up overnight and keep him out in future games, or if he can kick long field goals anymore, or what. If he can't do so, and if it's really hurting him, we are, to put it delicately, screwed up the bum. We haven't go anyone else who can step in, and Hanson is one of the better kickers in football right now; we lose him and we lose a nice reliable source of points, something that can never ever ever be underestimated on a team like the Lions.
The other downside was that they were wearing the black jerseys. So aesthetically unfortunate.
Now I desperately need to sleep. If you need soothing after that Sox loss, just repeat after me:
Manny and Oritz will hit when it counts, Jason Varitek can lead even when he can't hit, someone will step up in the rotation when we need them to, and in Theo We Trust. There's a time for panic, but we're still on top. Not yet, kids. Not yet.