Friday, January 20, 2006
We've been down this road before.
It's like when a beautiful, intricate snowflake lands on your sleeve, and you want to look at it closer to see it in its full natural glory, but you can't because you know that if you lean down to look at it your breath will warm it and it'll melt. Or Dan Shaughnessy will come along, grab your arm, and slobber all over it, thus obliterating the snowflake while disgusting and infuriating you at the same. Also, ruining your coat.
So I almost don't want to say anything about this, just in case.
(I just have to add, I have the Michigan/Bowling Green hockey game on, and the crowd just did the infamous Yost Ice Arena chant that ends with a long and enthusiastic string of curse words [we's wicked classy, yo!]. The camera happened to be on the BG coach just as the crowd was finishing it up. He had his mouth slightly open and his eyes directed towards the ceiling, with the best "dear god why, why me" expression I've seen on TV in a long, long time. Michigan just scored again. It is now 4-0.)
But since this news has appeared on the official site, and not just the Globe, I will risk a word or two.
1) We appear to now have a three-headed beast running the office. It's getting like the hydra up there: cut off a head, and two more grow back in its place. By the time the season starts I expect we'll have the two GMs, thirteen full-time assistants, forty eight part-time assistants, and a small but highly intelligent beagle. The only way to kill the Red Sox will be to pick off each one separately and then set it on fire to prevent another one sprouting up. Except for the beagle. The beagle can't be killed.
2) Thehoycherstein. I like it.
3) I just feel a little bit better now. Don't you? Mummy's come home again, and maybe daddy will put the whiskey bottle back on the shelf. Everything will go back to being all tra la la and the neighbors will stop talking behind our backs. Now we're not the only kid on the block without a dear mum anymore! It'll be just like before. Except for little Manny. That rapscallion, he just won't ever eat his peas, now will he?
4) From a compound deep within the steamy borders of Barranquilla, Colombia comes a tortured, wounded cry: "WOE IS MEEEEEEEEE"
(I'm confused. Bowling Green just scored, finally, and the Michigan crowd starts chanting "overrated". Or are there enough BG fans in Yost to bring off a proper cheer? Hm. 4-1.)
5) Does this mean we're buddy-buddy with the Padres again? They always did seem to have a bit of crush on Theo. Not that that is a bad thing, or an unusual thing... 95% of Red Sox Nation knows how you feel, San Diego (I figure 5% for men with high levels of denial). Maybe we can pawn ol' CupcakeChin Wells off on them now and Dave Roberts can make his triumphant return.
(Nevermind, then. TJ Hensick does a thing with his stick. 5-1.)
6) Word.
9:00 PM
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