Alito Could Hurt Us A-lot-o

Great, just what we needed. Another possible threat to abortion rights. Way to go, G.W. You moron.

Open Letter (to a Former GM)

Dear Theo,

Wow.

I am stunned. The last time I think I felt this way was, ironically, July 31, 2004. Little did I know how important that day was destined to be. Unfortunately, I don't think the Red Sox are going to benefit at all from your loss. In fact, we are going right down the crapper, to be sure. None of us really know what happened behind closed doors, but I'm pretty sure the only two people who will be coming to Lucchino's emotional rescue now are (1) his wife (she scares me) and (2) Shaughnessy.

I don't know you personally, but there are a few things that have become very apparent over your short time with the Red Sox and because of these things, I say to you (Good Will Hunting style): It's not your fault. I will always admire your strong work ethic, your charitable nature, your ability to take risks, your instincts and your amazing character. You worked. We saw the results and believed. You delivered. We swooned.

You will be missed and although they say that everyone is replaceable, I've got to disagree in your case. If leaving is what you had to do, then I have to believe that it was your only choice. Your last bold move with the Red Sox. And if it was indeed the right thing to do, I am sure that it will pave the way for better things in your future.

I am not without disappointment, though. I stupidly and naively thought, with all the crazy comings and goings on Yawkey Way, that you would be the one constant. It gave me comfort. In the back of my mind, though, I knew you wouldn't be able to keep pace without some concessions, some compromises. And maybe you bent as far as you could. We all have a breaking point. A line in the sand. You refused to be stepped on. I admire that. But none of this changes the fact that we are really screwed, Epstein. The two-year old in me is screaming - But what about Hot Stove and a Charity to be Named Later? What about the GM Meetings? What about all the good times?

Nothing is forever. I just thought we'd have you a little longer.

Good luck. You're going to kick ass, no matter what you decide to do. I just hope it entails 8 solid hours of sleep a night. You deserve that.

-Kim

Happy Halloween ...

It's a Project Manager vampire! Beware!




Have a safe one, everybody!

Just Under the Wire

Thank goodness. Glad this is just about done.

Lunch Time Report

First, and foremost, I want to let you in on a little secret. I have discovered how to microwave a Trader Joe's veggie burrito to perfection. I have tried in the past, with no success, to heat the burrito in the microwave while maintaining the soft, tender quality of the tortilla. Here's what you do: Wrap it in a moist paper towl before zapping it. There's your little lunch time tip from WCSG.

Secondly, it looks as though the Theo deal is not yet done, but the statement issued yesterday by Epstein and Lucchino suggests that it is close. Whew!

Next, both Millar and Mueller have filed for free agency. I am really excited to find out who the Red Sox are going to acquire at 1st. Rumor has it that Youk will become the full time 3rd baseman, which makes perfect sense to me and I'm sure to most of you, too. I'm glad that all his utility time have paid off. U-Time. Youk-Time. Anyway...

Timlin has been given a tentative deal. Good news for the bullpen.

Alright, back to work.



Mmm ... burrito ....

Hearsay?

This excerpt is from today's Herald. Tony My-Massarotti-Does-185 writes:

When the Red Sox failed in the Alex Rodriguez negotiations (and thank goodness for that) Lucchino blamed the players' union. When the Red Sox traded Nomar Garciaparra, members of the Red Sox (guesses, anyone?) leaked information to make the shortstop out to be the villain. And now, in the worst transgression of all, Red Sox management is smearing one of its own in the most sacrosanct negotiation, one that should have been conducted exclusively within the gilded walls of the front office at 4 Yawkey Way.

I'm not a Lucchino supporter, but, um, where is the evidence to support Larry smearing Theo publicly? Who has this on tape? It's all hearsay and conjecture at this point, so I'm going to sit tight and wait. What's the use in getting ahead of ourselves with this? I don't know, maybe it's all an eminence front, a put-on. Seriously, this is crazy.



Smile, Theo. you're on candid camera!

Today is the Day

According to the Globe today is d-day. Decision day, that is. Technically, the contract doesn't expire until Monday evening, but I guess the deal is going down today. Interesting article, by Bob Ryan. One worth reading. It doesn't really say anything you didn't already know - except that it reveals Theo's interest in this job when he was attending Yale. But, the article pretty much encapsulates my feelings on the matter, and I'm guessing yours, too, reader.

Oh, and congratulations to the Chicago fans. Although, secretly, I was rooting for the Astros. They just seem a lot more likable to me. Had the Astros been the Cubbies, I really would have been glued to the series, but I just don't care for the White Sox, I guess. They are like robots to me. Where's the warm and fuzzy?

It's a Surpriiiiise!

It appears as though Theo rejected offer numero dos yesterday, which was for 1.2 million. Those are serious buckaroos, so I have to remain with those who believe that the issue is one of control and not of money. I also have to assume that Theo isn't the type of person to ask for more than what lies within the bounds of reason. So, what the f? I'm not going to pretend to know what goes on behind the scenes, but if Theo needs a hall pass every time he goes to the bathroom, there's a big problem.

Meanwhile, there have been some firings in the medical department. It always seems like the firings at the Red Sox come as a complete surprise to the rejected person. You ever notice that? Nomar and Jose Offerman (ugh, that was one was way overdue) were both in shock, as was Dr. Morgan. You hear commentary from everyone about how this person was such an asset to the organization and how it was a real shame that they were let go. I imagine that you could be the best mailroom person for the Red Sox, but when your number is up, well, you'd better pack up the bubble wrap. It's like the end of Mommie Dearest, when Christina is sitting with her brother, waiting to hear what Joan left them after her death, which turns out to be absolutely nothing. Why, you wonder? For reasons that are obvious to them. Or something like this. It's a total mystery.

Remember Jokey Smurf?

I foamed - I raved - I swore!

The latest.

And the hands of the clock tick louder and louder as time passes, like the tell tale heart. How will the end of this tale be? Will Theo be secure in his position with us, or will he and Larry not see eye-to-eye on something as piddly as several thousand dollars (the additional money, Epstein will probably throw into local charity anyway)? Sort of ironic that it is fated to end on Halloween. The only thing that would have been more appropriate would be April Fool's Day because I keep asking myself - are they serious? You know, with the nickel and diming. Do they think that they have a shot at another WS victory without Theo? Maybe they do. He's fattened up the farm system and he's built an October-style team, so hey, thanks a lot, Theo, for all your wonderful hard work. Thanks for the soul sweat. I guess we can take it from here. Good luck, ole boy.

I'm sure we'll have our Theo back by then. Honestly, even if they decided to go with someone else and hand over all of Theo's formulated spreadsheets and detailed reports and secret spells, how long do you predict it would take to get all fucked up? (Seriously, how long? This is a survey.)

Tea Party in Central Parking

I am a huge advocate for the city of Boston. I come to her defense quickly when someone puts her down (similar to my endless support of iceberg lettuce. What? This lettuce isn't good enough for you? Not fancy enough for your distinguished palette? ). I had the pleasure of living with a transplant who beat me over the head incessantly with the fact that the city is racist. I have gone to great lengths to unveil all the remarkable work that anti-racist groups have done in the city and I've cataloged these findings not just for him, but for myself. To remind myself that this city has come a long way. I mean, just because you live in a diverse community, doesn't mean it isn't riddled with racism and suffering from great economic injustices. It just means that there are fewer white people. (I am not absolving Boston of racism. It's here, like everywhere - alive and well.)

Then, there's the driving issue. I know that driving in Boston is a challenge. I've dealt with this and I've overcome it and I'm pretty darn proud of my ability to seamlessly navigate around the city. No one ever said life was easy. So, if you aren't here often, you might want to repeat this to yourself a half a million times as you work yourself up into an uncontrollable fit of rage. When you get to your destination, a little part of you will feel good that you succumbed and that you were victorious. You earned that mother f'n parking spot.

I have always wondered how some Red Sox fans can embrace the team, but hate the city so.

I was Logan Airport's biggest cheerleader. I have been on the receiving end of countless bitter complaints about this airport. From getting there to parking, the list is endless. Legitimate 911 criticism aside, I really find no difference between Logan and other airports, except for a little less signage. And seriously, who needs a playschool-style airport? Are we infants?

All this changed on Saturday morning. I had to pay the airport a visit to exchange a voucher for a ticket to California so that I can attend a post wedding party in November. I zipped on to the artery and flew down the lower deck like a knife spreading butter cream frosting on top of a cake. I sang and tapped my foot along to the White Stripes CD and relaxed with a fresh cup of Dunkin Donuts hazelnut. I sashayed into central parking with no problem whatsoever. This is where the story takes a drastic turn. The lot was packed. And when I say packed, I mean PACKED. Where there weren't cars nestled against each other, there was caution tape and cones and orange and white barrels. I went up ramps and down dead ends and could not find a spot at Terminal B. I had to venture into Terminal C. Nothing. Then, finally, I was afforded a space I could barely maneuver my car into (I affectionately dubbed it the "reject spot.") at Terminal D. After squeezing in, I was wise enough to write my location down on my garage ticket. I then left and tried to figure out how far I was from Terminal B and how to get there.

I found the elevator and pressed both the up and down buttons. They each lit up, and then, after 30 seconds, the lights turned off. The elevator made no sound. I looked at the sign next to the elevator and it clearly said "Pedestrian Walkway, Level 3." So, I decided to take the stairs. I got to Level 3, and started walking in the opposite direction, toward where I thought the walkway might be. That's when I encountered a scary looking white tunnel, like a covered wagon had mated with that thing at the end of E.T. There were men on ladders in front of it, but I decided not to ask them for assistance. I walked through the tunnel and took a left, following a sign that said "To All Terminals." This lead me to another elevator with buttons that didn't work. I fled this area and went back down to Level 3 (listening to Vincent Price laughing in my head). I swear, I went to all the corners of the level and saw no way into the airport. Eventually, I ran into a guy with a suitcase and thought: He just came from the actual airport, so the way in must still be fresh in his mind. I asked him. He instructed me to go back to the covered wagon walkway and take a right instead of a left and keep walking. So, I did as he told, shielding my face from the construction workers on ladders in sheer embarrassment (I may have gone past them a few times at this point). Finally, I got into the airport at Terminal C. I was able to get to Terminal B easily from there, but I was pretty annoyed by this time. So, if anyone from Massport is reading this: PLEASE IMPROVE THE NAVIGATION IN CENTRAL PARKING.

My mood was mellowed by the Mayor's sweet voice welcoming me to the city of Boston (and telling me about all her offerings) as I descended the escalator stairs. Long live the Boston accent. If you don't like it, don't listen.

Wells, You Big Silly

I can't believe that David Wells is ready to pack up for the west coast, especially after all the compliments I sent his way. I publicly stood corrected for him and now he wants to go home. Ah, well. He may have requested the relocation, but that doesn't mean it's going to happen.

And now from the gallery of the Ghosts of Halloweens Past ...

1998. Group costume: A Quartet of Crack Ho Girl Scouts.



The gal on the left is Chandra. That's me in the middle, proudly showing the viewer my heroin needle. Heather is on the right, flashing an evil, naughty grin. Kara (Mo) is taking the picture. What you hardly see in this shot is my extended belly. I masqueraded as "the pregnant one" and I have a separate photo of Chandra kissing my pregnancy bump (AKA a round pillow under my jumper) for good luck. Those reddish accessories on our sashes are condoms (which I guess would have been useless for me, since I had ye ole bun in the oven) and our merit badges say things like "AK2" (that's short for the a cappella punk band we were in during our early college years - ANKARA2. If you could catch a close-up, you'd see that the A is done up anarchy-style. Seems I've seen this somewhere. Recently. Hmmm.). That's my old apartment, too, in Winter Hill (Somerville). Note the Jane's Addiction poster to the left of Chandra. It was Jane's Live, and I think I may have purchased this in a clove cigarette smelling poster shop on South Street in Philly.

1977. Fortune Teller



That's me with my dad. This is before he started looking like Dennis Franz. He was actually pretty cute back in the 70s. Damn, I miss the guy.

Get Behind Me, Satan

My lack of posts is mostly due to the fact that I have developed a raging obsession with the new White Stripes CD. I have listened to My Doorbell about a zillion times in the last 2 days and I know that I am no where close to wearing that bad boy into the ground.

I have always been a fan of The White Stripes, but my new infatuation with this CD is beyond sick. It totally snuck up on me. too. I didn't ask for this. Thanks a lot, Jack and Meg. I am now the proud owner of your new CD and a pair of fire engine red tights.

More Halloween Fun

No, I haven't become a porn star. I'm just fiddling around with my bio pic in the spirit of the bestest holiday of the calendar year.

I'm going to run off and do the time warp. Again.

I Do Love Halloween

As we inch our way toward Halloween, I've decided to post occasional pics from 'weens past.

Today's photo is from 1992. Ever since I was a wee lass, I've been a KISS fan. My dad gave me his very own copy of Double Platinum and I wore the sucker out by the time I was eleven. I was especially fond of God of Thunder, although Calling Dr. Love was a close second. And what do these 2 songs have in common? The lead vocal is performed by one of my idols, Gene Simmons.



The make up wasn't as tough to do as I thought it was going to be, but I failed to add the black flames (flame shadows?) to the under part of my eye. My friend Lynanne and I went to a party in Malden that year, and I got a few nods and a Hey Gene! here and there on the subway. This costume was so fun, I am considering being Paul Stanley in the not-so-distant future.

Shame

The idea of offering Theo Epstein 750,000 bucks - the same salary as Chuck LaMar, former GM of the Devil Rays - is insulting, to say the least. Theo is a GM God who has delivered countless hours of his brilliance over the last 3 years, not to mention the first World Series Championship in 86 years. Are you kidding me, Larry? Where's the candid camera? If Theo walks, I will riot. And I'm not the "rioting" kind, but trust me, I will do it.

Read all about it here.

Simply appalling.

2005 Season Closing Remarks

Well, we have officially reached the end of yet another Red Sox season. And even though our team was injured and deficient in many ways, I think this group pulled together to give us a decent 2005. Anytime we are lucky enough to get to the post season, I am happy. Some teams expect to be there, and while I sort of admire setting the bar that high or higher, I don't want to fall into that category of fan. The sort whose world might shatter if the team they've hardly paid attention to all season suddenly doesn't make it beyond September.

One of the best things to come out of the season (dare I even say the best thing) was the emergence of Jon Papelbon. I have a feeling that this kid is going to become tremendously important to the franchise and to we fans. Balancing the scale would be the season's greatest disappointment: Edgar Renteria. I like him. He seems like a sweet man. I liked Darren Lewis, too. And Tony Clark, when he wore a Sox uniform. But, liking players isn't enough to win games. I didn't necessarily like Pedro Martinez, but I was sad to see him leave us because I understood the void he left in our starting rotation. I do hope that Edgar has a better year in 2006. There were some good signs toward the end: some clutch hits, some good defensive work. But, sadly, he just didn't perform to his potential this year. I guess not everything works out the way it's supposed to on paper.

The season's greatest turnaround for me was David Wells. As you know, I was not only shocked when Theo acquired him, I was mortified. I've got to hand it to the fatty - he really grew on me. Even his strange and awkward ramblings. I now see his unhealthy obsession with Babe Ruth as an endearing little quirk. He's a real team guy with a blue collar sensibility. He knows how to have fun without taking things too seriously. I'll admit that I wasn't happy to see him at one of the Celtics playoff games when he had the cast, but, I am willing to oversee that because he really delivered.

Other unfortunate and unforeseen happenings:

1. Foulke's sudden inability to find the strike zone
2. Clay Meredith's major league debut
3. Bellhorn's many, many strike outs and his ultimate betrayal
4. Embree's lack of strike outs and his ultimate betrayal
5. The pace of Schilling's recovery (I think we started to see signs of his former self, though, with his last couple of starts. Prediction: Back to ace status next year.)
6. Doug Mirabelli's offensive decline (Is it me, or was he just not as clutch this year?)
7. Kevin Millar's all around lack of productivity
8. The team's collective season ending fizzle

Good stuff:

1. The additions of Cora and Graffanino
2. Varitek's first career grand slam
3. Holding first place for 3 months
4. David Ortiz's MVP consideration
5. Bringing back Kaplar (but add his season ending injury to the unfortunate column)
6. Curt, for being a team guy and stepping in as closer for Keith
7. Timlin, for stepping in as closer for Curt
8. Manny. For being Manny.
9. Youk's consistency
10. Johnny's resilience and mad base stealing
11. Bill Mueller's under-credited work at third base
12. Trot's clutch hitting

So, the good things appear to outweigh the disappointing things - at least for me. All said, I enjoyed the season and my desire to go to the world series was not any softer because of last year's victory. I'm glad I wasn't complacent.

I do look forward to all the off season action. We are on the heels of a truly exciting time of the baseball year.

Round 3: Knock Out

I'm a little behind on posting because - silly me - I forgot my charger at work on Friday night and was unable to post or do anything internet related until, well, now. And even now, I must work through lunch. I will be posting my final season thoughts later on. Possibly this evening. So, stay tuned.

Then, onto off season trading.

Round 2

I almost titled this post "Oh, Crap" for obvious reasons, but decided to keep the whole Raging Bull boxing theme going instead. The worst part of last night's game was being fooled into complacency with the lead. I really thought we had the W for a while. Wells gave us the pitching we needed to put these guys away, but our defense and offense was a real disappointment. Incidentally, I think that Graffy redeemed himself there in the 9th with his crazy double. It's not his fault that Johnny and Edgar farted all over the ball. That was a frustrating loss for us all.

I guess that I sort of take comfort in the fact that we tend to perform well with our backs against the wall. And we'll be at home. Must wins for Friday and Saturday to stay in the series.

Oh, and a cute little side story: I recently purchased a set of Red Sox fuzzy dice for my car. They dangle around alongside my sushi air freshener. In traffic this morning, I glanced over to my right to find an older man giving me the nod. For his rear view mirror was adorned with the same dice. I nodded back and smiled, taking it as a sign for our next game.

I'm all in for Friday.

A Modern Day Warrior

Steve Finley uses Mueller's at bat music, too! Have I been living under a rock or what?! Rush is bigger for some of these dudes than I thought.

Round 1

Ok, so that really stung. I guess we learned that Matt isn't ready for these big games. At least not this year. I love the dude, but that was devastating. And Millar - what a disappointment today. That was horrible base running. I understand why Tito went with him (as you know, his record against Contreras is pretty good, but I am guessing that this was BEFORE he found his 2 seam fastball action that put us away this afternoon), but way to give a gift out to the White Sox, Kevin. Honestly, I don't know if Olerud would have fared better. Contreras was just so damn impressive today. At least the game is over and we've got stronger starters going in the games ahead.

It is only one game, and so long as mlb doesn't institute the gap penalty during the '05 playoffs, we can just shake it off and look forward to tomorrow. Also, we should have better luck in the evening slot. I am convinced that these weird 4:00 starts doom us.

And why am I torturing myself with Buck and McCarver right now? Blah blah blah, A-Rod for MVP, blah blah blah. (Mrs. Joey - are you throwing bricks at your TV tonight? Hopefully, you aren't torturing yourself with the Yankee game).

Clinch!

P.S. The "joke" is on the Yankees, for thinking that they are the rightful division series title holders.

Total and Complete Bullshit

I just don't think it's fair that we hold on in 1st place for nearly 3 months and then we basically hand the Yankees yet ANOTHER division title when there is still another game to play and we could very well tie shit up after tomorrow. I understand that this is the rule (10-9 edge in regular-season play ), but I don't agree with it. It's like someone builds an entire house, all except for laying down a few roof shingles - but the person who hammers in the last couple of nails gets to say that they built the house themselves, you know? And they take credit for it. Not fair. NOT FAIR.

And how about that Matsui base running, huh? Way to go, cheater! Can you even believe that he wasn't called out on that TOTALLY OBVIOUS OUTSIDE THE LINE JAUNT TO THE BAG? It took, like, THREE umpires to confirm the terrible call. Were they all high? Because that was awful.

And, hmmm ... no Papelbon? A sure thing who was rested and ready to go and they stick CHAD BRADFORD in? They must have figured that they were going to lose or something, that the division title wasn't worth it.

I am really seething right now. I think we'll get in on the wild card and feel pretty confident that we'll have ourselves another post season, but the point is, we worked so hard for that title and we totally deserved it. Damn Yankees. Continuing to be the bane of my existence. Continuing to take credit for things they don't deserve. And they're going to sit around and celebrate tonight. They're going to kick back and drink champagne and laugh it up, all the while thinking that they got something they worked really f'n hard for.

At least Manny got two great homers off of RJ, and Graffy got one. And it was one of those homers that bounced right above the red line, which probably really incensed Torre because it couldn't be disputed.

The key to us losing, I think, was Edgar getting struck out with the bases loaded. I really wish one of the 3 homers had come at that critical time. And I thought Renteria could hit off the Unit. Not today, I guess.

I hope we are learning a few things here (that means you, Francona) because, chances are, we are going to have to play these ass clowns again in the post season, so please have your ducks in a row.

Mojo

Albeit a little fuzzy ...

Darn cell phone static.

One Down

If I get this bottle cap in the trash from across the room, the Sox are going to win tonight.

Look! The cat has contorted himself in a way that isn't catly possible! It's a good sign for the Sox.

How can we lose? My meter expired 30 minutes ago and I didn't get a ticket.

Does this irrational thinking sound familiar? I get like this during critical Sox-Yankees games.

There was quite a lot of strange "even Steven" stuff going on in last night's game. Damon got trapped in a weird and careless run down, but it was balanced by an error charged to A-Rod. Each pitcher threw 25 in the 1st. Each team scored a run in the 1st. Both A-Rod and Damon got a walk and stole 2nd in the 1st. But Jason broke the tie with a long homer, and Wells tightened up his game, while Wang struggled and so did the Yankees' offense.

And then there was the big inning. Lots of me getting up and screaming, fists up in the air and slapping my couch, the same way the fans slap the seats. I am sure you can all relate to this.

Can you believe long Joe kept Wang in the game? I really thought he would be managing better, but I don't think it's his fault that his bullpen sucks ass. While the Sox pen was simply magical. Myers. Oh my God. Was that Matsui out not the best? I saw a little smile on Mike's face as he was signaled to get off the mound by the skipper (with a hard slap on the butt). And Timlin. Lights fucking out. I loved it.

The fans did an excellent job, per the usual. Screaming in unison for Papi, letting A-Rod know who the real MVP is.

What a great victory. Sox style. Thank you, David Wells, for another big game performance. This time, for us. Can't wait for this afternoon.

And on the mojo front: I've been playing This Corrosion by The Sisters of Mercy over and over and over. I am doing my job, coach. (How fitting can you get with angelic choir sounds and lyrics like: Gimme the Ring, Gimme the Ring)