An Open Letter to the Boston Red Sox

Dear Socks,

Thank you for beating the Yankees today.  However strong your desire to relish this victory may be, I must implore you to stay the course and remain focused.

I live in New York City now.  I have been called an "asshole" and a guy with "a lot of balls" on the sidewalk as recently as last week for daring to wear a Red Sox hat and stand quietly [Note: the difference between "big balls" and "a lot of balls" is substantial].  I even got made fun of by a Mets fan once--which is crap.  On the whole, the city's disdain for the Red Sox is best described as a smug apathy.  You like the Red Sox?  Good luck with that.  However, the antagonism is ratcheted up quite a bit when the Sox are in town to play the Yanks.

As a Sox fan for my entire life (I vaguely remember Dave Henderson in 1990 and I definitely saw Mo Vaughn play in Pawtucket), I beg you to make a good showing in the Bronx this weekend.  Tonight was a great start, but at a bare minimum, please don't lose the next three games.  You need to at least win one more.  It is very hard to be a transplant and face the public after your hometown archrivals dismantle your team (like they did this time last year).

Just saying "Yeah, well... 2004" doesn't cut it anymore.  The Yankees are the defending champions and I have to take the heat if you dudes can't split this series.  I'm six stops away from Yankee Stadium and I don't want to be cussed out in Spanish when I'm just running out for a donut.

Love always,
Me

A Call to the Bullpen

Fantasy sports are exciting.  Despite the fact that most of us got made fun of in gym class (but not me, certainly), playing fantasy sports allows many of us to get the competitive juices flowing without any of the detracting risks that come along with being an athlete, like pulled hamstrings, road trips to Milwaulkee, and cheating on your spouse.

One of the highest orders of business in fantasy sports actually has nothing to do with the sport at all.  Picking a tremendously hilarious team name will earn you the admiration of your peers and make you seem like an awesome human being--even though, by all accounts, you are not.

I joined a fantasy baseball league where I will need to come up with a baseball related pun on a popular book title (examples that are already taken: "Catchers in the Rye", "David Copper Fielders", "A Midsummer Night's Team", and "The Great Batsby"). Although I am quite aware that I am the funniest person I know (and smartest and best looking and most modest), I thought I would take it to the Internets and solicit votes from the peanut gallery, as well as potential submissions, before I finally select a team name.

Here is my preliminary brainstorming list:
Jane Error
Slaughterhouse Nine
Lord of the Flyouts
Angels & Dodgers
The Pinchrunner's Guide to the Galaxy
Perks of Being a Wallballer
Catch-27
Homers for Algernon

Fahrenheit 6-4-3
Dante's Infieldo
Clubhouse Chatterly's Glover
Artemis Foul
Comedy of Errors
Taming of the Screwball
The Bunt for Red October
For Whom The Ball Rolls
Number the All-Stars (I'm going to hell)
Fight in August
A Pitcher of the Artist as a Young Man
Silas Mariner
Homer's Epic Cycle

Please overlook some of the lamer choices in there; I was tired.  My friends also came up with lists, among them these choice choices:

Excerpts from JM's (probably superior) List:
Atlanta Braves New World
The Base Runner
Of Dice-K and Men
The Full Count of Monte Cristo
The Pitcher of Dorian Gray
Atlas Slugged
One Flew Over the Green Monster
The Outfielders
A New York Yankee on King Arthur's Wall
Jackie Robinson Crusoe
Journey to the Center Field of the Earth
[and my personal favorite]
The Tragedy of King Richard at Third

Excerpts from DL's List:
Glove in a Time of Cholera
Balk Two Moons
Animal Farm League
A World Series of Unfortunate Events
Around the Bases in 80 Days
Charlotte's Web Gems

Have you got anything, Internets?  I'm picking my team name by this time tomorrow.  Feedback/suggestions/hate mail appreciated.

Fantasy Baseball Update!

Let me tell you about my fantasy baseball team! We're having a tremendous year; after going on a 12-4 run I have clinched a playoff spot. I still need to pick up a solid #4 starting pitcher before... hey, where are you going?

A Public Confession

Hello dear readers,

Today I come before you, heart in hand, with a tacit admission of guilt that is not easy for me to bear, and even more difficult for me to disclose. With the recent allegations and, some might say, damning evidence against such former sure-shot Hall of Famers as Jose Canseco, Mark McGwire, Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez, Manny Ramirez, and the milk guzzling former Marlins batboy, the natural beauty and timelessness of the sport of baseball have been called into question. Children growing up today must wonder if all of their idols will one day disappoint them, regardless of arena. Having been a bastion of truth and honesty until now, I humbly stand before you with a confession.

I, too, am guilty of using performance enhancers.

That's right. The very blog you are reading right now has been tainted by unspeakable use of performance enhancing materials, utilized during a period between last December and now, which has caused the material therein to be worded better and perhaps more verbose than would otherwise be the case. It started innocently enough over the winter, while I was dabbling with the Microsoft Word thesaurus. While my original goal was to merely find substitutes for repetative words such as "social", "network", and "douchebag", I soon found myself dropping the Shift+F7 several times daily.

Things began to spiral out of control shortly after January. I started sneaking dictionaries into public restroom stalls for a quick hit. I surfed over to Plinky for blog post ideas, though I still maintain that it was for research purposes only. I even--and it pains me to admit this--signed up for the Wordsmith.org "Word of the Day" email newsletter. Excuse me, I need a moment...

I can no longer keep up this facade. I do not, in fact, know everything. I read books, I have done research, and I have occasionally found synonyms or looked up the definitions of words I was unsure of. It's not something I'm proud to admit, but the pressure I felt to live up to my self-imposed title of "raddest f***ing Blogger alive!" (undisclosed Friday night, 1:37am) lead me to double and triple check each hastily crafted insult and laughable claim. I've even gone back and edited previously published entries. Yes, I know. As my audience grew, I found it harder and harder to stop.

Why come out now? Why voluntarily turn myself in, metaphorically speaking, and issue this mea culpa? With today's breaking news about Manny Ramirez testing positive for steriods, I knew it was only a matter of time until the microscope would be trained my way and I too would be exposed for the juicer I am. Of course, Ramirez maintains that he simply was taking a prescription fertility drug.

Now I know what you're thinking. A simple capsule that could actually make a man larger? [smarmy chuckle] But that wasn't Ramirez's problem, and it's not mine, either. The opposite, if you must know.

So while Ramirez begins his 50 game suspension without appeal, I come before you offering to not blog for the next 50 minutes. Yes, I realize that this could be viewed as excessively harsh. In the end, it may cost me a few readers. I am prepared to deal with that. I thank you for sticking by me through these shameful times. Doping to cover your weaknesses is never cool, whether on the ballfield or in bed (or in Rafael Palmiero's case, both). It takes a lot of courage to come out and admit that you don't know everything, and it also takes a whole lot of that certain part of the male anatomy. Not that I'm bragging.