Tuesday, September 13, 2005


Silly, But They Feel Like Friends

I find myself feeling a little differently about the players I met the other day. For example, Keith Foulke's distressing mound mannerisms are now rather endearing to me. And I was pissed when Tito took him out last night... like a vote of "no confidence", and knew somehow that it would blow up in his face. Keith seemed to have settled down, and was hitting his spots, or so it looked, and I still think he could've taken on Vernon Wells. And got him out. Which would have meant an earlier night for all of us, I imagine. Edit: I should note that I find the antics endearing, but not the sucky pitching that induces it. Puh-leeze work this shit out, Keith.

But then again, maybe we would not have seen Papelbon. Dude was NAILS. I swelled with pride, with all of Red Sox Nation, I'm sure. I kept picturing his fiancée, cheering wildly at some tv somewhere. And I gave her a mental hug, and Jonathon, too. He is such a nice kid, I tell you. And he really showed up our veteran relievers, eh?

Oddly enough, I have become quite fond of Kevin Millar this year, despite his pathetically tardy hot streak. Now I love him. Beth made the comment that he is "too important to get off his cell phone". I have to tell you that although I was aware that he was on the phone, I felt I had his undivided attention. I would have to protest that it is I who would not be important enough to get off the phone for, but he made me feel as if I was. I thought I understood the clubhouse love for Kev, but now I really get it. We've all known people like this, at some point in our lives, I'm sure. Someone who makes everyone feel special. Millar's got that touch, that something special that you crave to be around, because he makes you feel GOOD. I will now defend him to the death. Also, the bottle of Jack I have been using as solace for difficult games such as Friday and Sunday... I am hoping to use the rest by way of tribute swigs in his honor whenever he is at bat. I did this last night, and he was 2/3. ok, 1/3 last night but he fucked himself by hitting the first pitch in his last at-bat. I had not had time to toast. Take a pitch or two, Kev, just to make sure you get the mojo.

Some people say you should not regret anything in life. Maybe those people don't do stupid things, as I seem to all the time. I have thought of Billy Mueller many, many times in the past few days. I cringe as I wonder how I could have missed him. Anguish. I tell myself it's absurd, yet still I feel intense guilt every time Billy has been up at the plate in a key situation since then, as it has not turned out well. If I am ever that close to him again, I will ask if I can have a picture of me kissing his feet.

I'm sure Papelbon's girlfriend was at the game. She's on the trip, after all, and even if she had to buy her own seat, there's been plenty of room at Rogers Centre this week.
I was thinking all those family people were only there for NYC, since it's exciting stuff, and it's the weekend. I don't think they brought everyone on to Toronto. But sure, she might've been there.
I sure hope they can play a little better brand of baseball or we'll be looking at a bunch of Yankee rear ends (read asses) in the standings, and too "f"ing soon. Reality bites. C'mon guys!!
That whole kissing his feet thing is far better in a figurative sense than reality.

I don't know if you really want to go there, with or without the picture
the reality, john, is that I will almost certainly never be that close to him again, at least with the opportunity to ask such a thing. *sigh*
Where'd all the cute baby pictures go?
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