1) Time for a new park.


And I was not the only one with an obstructed view. In a stadium that sells out around 35k, having 100 people with an obstructed view is a lot. Plus I couldn't feel the lower half of my body most of the game. Yeah, I'm fat, but my seat was also built in 1912. There's no reason they couldn't preserve the spirit of Fenway in a new park that would allow for more seats and therefore cheaper ticket prices and concessions. Keep the Green Monster, lose the poles. Win win.

2) Okajima's entrance song. Best ever. Y/Y? (Warning: link leads to crazy Japanese techno MP3). Japanese pop culture fascinates me. I seriously can't get enough of the wacky (to me) hijinks.

3) Great endings make for great games. It was a pitcher's duel until the 7th really. The Sox were up one, then the Jays came back. They bring Papelbon in for the ninth and the first batter gets a hit. I lean over to Jack and say: "They made Paps mad. Paps shouldn't get mad. Paps smash." And then he picks off the guy brought in to pinch run at first. AHAHAHAH. Then the bottom of the ninth, guys on first and second, Moss gets a hit and the pinch runner, Lowrie, goes for home from second and gets thrown out. By this time, my bladder was nearly exploding and I needed some resolution one way or another, or I'd face certain doom. As would all the people around me. Then Tek's up, and he hits it to the same spot, and Manny tries for the same things and he makes it. OMIGAWD. So good.

(I was going to provide video links but they don't appear to be working. Check this link later, maybe it'll be up.)

4) I love baseball.

Opening day!!!

First, baseball geekery:


Next: Red Sox win it in ten in Tokyo! WTF, Moss? I'm not too happy about the pitching performances, but hey. There are 161 games left. And Jacoby Ellsbury rocks.

My morning: alarm went off at 6 am, flipped on the TV, fell back asleep with the game going in the background. Got up at 8, showered, dressed, etc. etc., drove to work. Listened to my usual morning radio station, the DJs were broadcasting live from some bar on Fenway (probably the Cask because, hey, it's always the cask). Good things happen in the game. I see the dude in the car next to me fist pump at the exact same moment I do.

I get a little misty.

Man, I love my city. Man, I love my team.

Man, I love baseball.

The Sox are going to the World Series. And I'm going to Nevada. Stupid MLB ruining the schedule! I planned ahead! Blah. Game 2's a definite miss because of travel. Game 5 (if necessary) I might make, since it's in Colorado. If my flights aren't delayed. Which I'm sure they will be.

*rocks back and forth*

It's not as though I'll let this get in the way of my fun. I do have some sense of perspective. It's just baseball. (Though if they hadn't won in '04, I might really be freaking out right now.) And at least this solves the matter of what I'm going to wear for warmth (my Believer hoody). So there's that.

It's all good.

Go Sox.

The Rockies want to trademark Rocktober.

I'm actually curious about what other teams have trademarked third-party made slogans that the fans latch onto. In the meantime, I remain scoffingly cynical. Yeah, scoffingly.

Oh look! It's Sam catching a ball in the warning track in center field!


(Note: There was no ball. Just a fake action shot. You know how it is. Gotta ham it up for the cameras. That's just how I roll.)

So my sister's corporate company picnic thing this year was in Fenway Park. Naturally she invited her favorite (only) sister, me. Also her boyfriend, my mom, and my mom's boyfriend. You know.

Of course it was also one of the hottest, muggiest days all summer. But I got my picture taken with the World Series trophy! And I got to walk along the field. Like, on the field. And make a fake catch, as you can see above. I sat in the dugout, put in a call to the bullpen (fake also), touched the scoreboard, and ate free food (which, in Fenway, is a huge score).

God I love baseball.

More pictures are at the above link. The World Series trophy was a fanfoto thing, so when I get it I'll share it. Naturally.

Three years ago I complained about the Nomar Trade. I also said "we'll see how it works out," and it worked out in a World Series, so I tend not to copmplain anymore. And, y'know, getting Gagne doesn't really give me much to complain about. I've been a fan since his rookie year in '99 (he's on all my video game baseball teams as my closer, since they all predate Papelbon). Granted, a lot of that was looks: he's a big dude with a soul patch that wears glasses. Heart.

So I'm glad he's coming to Boston. I'm not going to run out and buy a Gagne shirt yet (I still only own three named shirts: Garciaparra, Mientkiewicz, and Varitek), but it's a good news day as far as I'm concerned.

I was never a huge Speed Racer fan as a kid, but I enjoyed it enough that having words like "retro future" and "Waschowski" thrown around means I'm interested in seeing it.

Sad news about Battlestar. I get that they want to go out on a high note. I get that another 22 episodes may put the fork in it. Yes, dramatic TV shows usually start to suck after 3 - 4 seasons (some last longer... I think The X-Files made it 6ish, Star Trek: TNG didn't hit its stride until S4, and there are a handful of others). But I think they could stretch for another 44 without sucking. It's got its issues, yeah, but it's still such a good show. And I could handle the occasional bout of badness just to have the show around and still making amazing episodes. I did for Xena and Buffy, and neither of those were particularly amazing.

Now if only I could get out to LA for this Wednesday, so I could be at the fan Q&A (moderated by Lucy Lawless and attended by Edward James Olmos and Mary McDonnell... and, y'know, other people). Alas. Why doesn't anyone ever have Q&As in Boston (I'd settle for New York).

Speaking of New York... the Yankees lose to everyone but the Red Sox. I love Wakefield, man, but scoring on two passed balls? Not cool, dude. Not cool. Also, I think the Yanks are a little cranky about the fact that they suck this season. Not that I blame them.

I sort of want to see Dead or Alive. C'mon, it looks fun! Tongue in cheek action movie! With Eric Roberts as the bad guy! And kick ass women! It's directed by the guy who did The Transporter and, dumb movie or not, that was a fun action romp. It's Mortal Kombat redux, but I liked Mortal Kombat. So I'm in!

Oh, for the love of snap. Where are the Republicans to tell him to shut the hell up and entertain people, as is his job?

Oh, right, he'd run as a Republican. Even though, of course, he's "not wedded to a party affiliation" [anymore, in case anyone remembers 2004 and him using the World Series win as a way to stump for Bush and local Republicans].

Damnit, man, can't I just love you for the rest of my life in peace? Must you make me question my judgment? MUST YOU?

I really hate the virtual waiting room system. I don't understand why the online sale is random when it's first-come-first-serve if you're standing at the window by Fenway. And I don't understand how so many tickets end up with brokers. It's seriously disheartening and I wish they'd do something about it. And then maybe build a new park with 20,000 more seats. You know, the little things.

I love Fenway and all, but I love actually getting to see baseball even more. I paid $27 each last year for tickets to an A's/Yankees game that were about fifteen rows back from the third baseline. Tickets like that to a Red Sox game, just pretending I could even attempt to buy tickets to a Red Sox/Yankees game, would be at least $200. 'Cause I wouldn't be able to buy them for face value. Grr.

Screw this. I'm going to get pancakes.

Oh man. So I get a call at 8:30 this morning. It's Jes. I go: "omg830omgsotireddontwannaanswerwhatifit'sanemergency?" in my head and pick up the phone. (Sidenote: I actually went to bed relatively early last night. 2:30/3ish.) Her friend, whose partner had won Red Sox tickets yesterday from her law firm had an extra ticket now (her partner couldn't go... in-laws or something) and would I like to go?

Gee, me go to a Red Sox game for free in what will probably be fantastic seats? No.

Actually, though, I had to call the other room mate, 'cause she moved in today. At first I didn't succeed. But time was of an issue, so I tried tried again. She confirmed that she'd be in by noon and I could give her the key, help move a few things, and bolt.

Of course, this is Life and in Life nothing ever goes as Planned. Also, please remember to liberally sprinkle inappropriately capitalized words throughout your Life so that People know it's more Dramatic.

Anyway, she was late. Ticket-Benefactor left the ticket for me at the will call window. I walked briskly to the T, zipped through the "always two seconds away from dismembering me" charlie card reader (TM) and got to Ruggles in time to miss the last shuttle. Therefore, I had to walk. I bumped into Lydia on the way, so I just had to stop and chat. Had to. Really. Mandatory.

I really only missed the first half of the first inning, because we gave up two runs and that takes a little while.

Great game, though. Great game. God I love baseball. And it was such a perfect day for it. And the seats were awesome. I one day aspire to be married to a high powered attorney, so she can get me season tickets in a loge box. Actually, we all know I aspire to one day be married to Billie Piper, but since she could afford season tickets in a loge box, I think it'll all work out in the end anyway.

I went to my sister's afterwards, in the hopes of avoiding moving a couch and other such large pieces of furniture. She got a beer ball yesterday. On a whim. It fits in her fridge. Bah! Anyway, we drank beer in chilled beer chalices (no, seriously, her boyfriend bought them at an antique store... they're from the 50s or something) on their roof deck overlooking the city. God I love Boston.

Then it got a little chilly (because the weather is completely and totally normal and please buy more gas, thanks) so we went in to her nice new apartment with a panoramic view of the city. God I love Boston. And we played with her boyfriend's lizard thing.

I came home to find that all the stuff had already been moved. Woot. And now my TiVo is set up, and as soon as I find my switcher thing, I'm going to set up the DVD player, and I can finally catch up on my Netflix. Or watch more Doctor Who. The Ninth, you know. Probably both.

Really tired. Good day, though. Good day.

Last night I accidentally went to the Red Sox game. One of the bonuses to living in Boston is being able to randomly do that. And, as Kelly says, I'm a sucker for the pout. But there's an 88% chance I got a date to the wedding I'm going to in May. So to the Red Sox game I went. It wasn't that great of a game until the 9th. And I drank altogether too much for a Thursday (in fact, I basically was drinking from 3pm to 11pm with a small break from 3:30 to 5 to work), which wasn't enough to give me a throbbing hangover but was enough to make me completely dehydrated and exhausted all day today. Not good.

Tonight, as soon as rush hour passes and I pack, I'm going to my mom's house and passing out on the couch with my Netflix movies. And maybe something On Demand, if I go through those quick. In other words: dead to the world. Huzzah.

Tomorrow's seder at my dad's, and then back Sunday night. Marathon Monday this week, woot (morning baseball!).

If I'm not around, have a pleasant weekend.

Before I get into Maui (which'll be tomorow anyway), there's a little thing I want to talk about:



Hm. Yup. Does anyone from outside of Oakland remember Johnny Damon before he was a self-proclaimed idiot, or a Jesus doppleganger?

So Johnny Damon goes where the money is. Nothing new (the Sports Guy writes similar ideas in smarter, funnier, ways). He wasn't ever my favorite player (or even close). My favorite player stayed with the team. I was much more sad to see Pedro go, and you may recall that I still had the sort of "so long" kind of attitude with him. Pedro wasn't worth $53 million, and Damon's not worth $52.

From Sports Guy:

All the classic "Guy signing a big contract and going into the tank" signs were there. For one thing, he has a ton of miles on him -- over 1,500 games in the past 10 years in one of the most grueling roles in the league (leadoff hitter, centerfielder) -- and by the end of last season, he was breaking down like Denzel Washington at the end of "Man on Fire." Physically, he's had ongoing problems with his right shoulder and post-concussion syndrome (the latter stemming from his ugly collision with Damian Jackson in the 2003 playoffs). His offensive numbers have dipped after the All-Star break for every season in the last four, including a dramatic drop last season (hitting .343 with an .859 OPS before the break and .282 with a .740 OPS after the break). And he's hitting his mid-30's next November.

And that's not even counting his pre-awesome seasons, when he was with the As. It was really weird to see USA Today (a.k.a. the crappy hotel newspaper) talk about how Damon's arm was the depth of the Red Sox. CoughcoughNixoncough. Okay. Anyway. He could either rock out in the Bronx or suffer the Samson syndrome (no more pretty hair, no more hot Damon).

In the end, I'm not too cut up about it. My guy stuck around. And, with that, I'll end with another Sports Guy excerpt, because he's the best sportswriter ever. Ever!

But hey, that's sports in the 21st century -- you win a championship, the moment passes, and that's that. In some cases, like with Pedro, Mueller, Lowe and Damon, employees leverage their situations into lucrative contracts with other franchises. In other cases, like with Millar, Bellhorn and Embree, companies cut the cord and try to find someone more productive. And once in awhile, you have someone like Varitek agreeing to stick around at a slightly reduced rate, and only because he's happy where he is. But everyone makes the decision based on what's best for him. That's how the real world works.

Just waited for 5ish hours in a virtual waiting room to get Sox tickets only to make it to the purchasing part and find that there are no seats left. Not that they really tell you. They tell you to keep clicking continue due to high traffic, and once in awhile a message pops up saying "no tickets available in that section in that quantity."

So I think I'm giving up (though my sister says it's defeat, which is a little better) and just getting them off ebay and craigslist.



And now they just put me back in the goddamn waiting room! DAMNIT.

I don't want to say "I told you so" about Renteria, but. Well. You know. I honestly wouldn't mind having Nomar back. Honestly.

I'm going to miss Doug Mirabelli, but it's probably the best for him; he'll get more playing time now. And we needed a second baseman. I like Graffanino and all, but that's still in arbitration.

Wouldn't mind saying goodbye to Johnny Damon. Fangirl fanbase or no, he's going to ask for way more money than he's worth with his numbers and age.

Bye bye Millar. I never liked you, even while you were doing well. So at least I'm consistent. I feel the same way as Bellhorn, and felt as if it was the perfect image to see him in Oakland wearing Yankees pinstripes and with his hair all cut and Yankeelike.
Anyway. That's about it. There's still much to do before spring training (which is sooooon! yaaaay!) and who knows who our infield will be.

I may write about John Lennon later. Definitely going to write something about an ass at school (not the donkey kind) but it's on my laptop and I'm too lazy to deal with that now.

Fever Pitch was cute. I liked it.

I'll write more tomorrow, maybe. Gotta wake up "early" for the game. It starts at 10 am here, and there's a work picnic later,so I need to be ready to go by game time.

Welcome to October.

I'm watching the Game Cast of the A's/Angels game, and seriously hoping the A's make a last inning, Sox-esque come back. Sigh. Probably not going to happen. Jay Payton leading off or not, they ain't no Sox.

In other news, the President has promised to only fly Air Force One away from disaster zones once every two weeks instead of every week, in order to conserve gas. Not that he actually flies the jet himself, of course, because he was vacationing in the Caribbean during that week of training. We need to conserve gas, by the way, because only faggot commies own electric or hybrid-electric cars. Patriotic Americans (real men, and real men's real wives) drive trucks, SUVs, and those nice Cadillacs with hemi engines. Why do Cadillacs need hemi engines? I'm not really sure, but it probably has something to do with spreading democracy.

Nick Swisher. You have a cool name. Be cool and hit a homerun.

It took me over an hour to realize what the McAfee in McAfee Coliseum (where the A's and Raiders play) came from.

Angels win. Way to go, Swisher. Struck out looking. Who does that? Besides Mark Bellhorn. Honestly. Two strikes, one ball, two outs, and your team's down by one. Just swing, dude.

I guess that's why I'm going to be an unemployed lawyer and not a professional baseball player. That and girls aren't allowed to play baseball. Oh, excuse me, don't have the natural body strength to play baseball.

I think I'm going to play some Punch Out for awhile. That King Hippo guy has been taunting me from his home in Hippo Island.

What a great day for baseball (yesterday). Really a shame about that losing thing. But we sat in the bleachers, about five rows from the visitor's bullpen, and sort of baked in the sun and watched the game. It was very fun, and I was with a good group, and I had an awesome time. Thank Jeebus for sun block, which was liberally applied both before and during the game. I didn't burn. Wahoo.

We had a scrumptious brunch beforehand, which included lox, bagels (which I didn't pratake in) and cream cheese, fruit salad, deviled eggs, and bloody mary's. Definitely the most adult thing I've ever done before a game. I don't know why brunch like that is so grown up, but in my head it is. So there you have it.

Last night I stayed in because I was tired from the sun (as were the people I'd have gone out with, were we going out). I ended up watching Julie Johnson, which was okay. It's been super spammed all over various gay websites, so I thought I'd check it out. Lily Taylor and Courtney Love were both great. the movie itself wasn't anything too spectacular, but maybe that was the point: just one woman's journey to a new place in life. Or something. I guess I can get that. It seemed more like 1970 than 2001, but I guess that's the point, as well.

Today I intend to clean my room, for real, maybe do some work, for real, and tonight we're watching the fireworks from a rooftop, which will be quite cool. I have a "4th Rant" to write up, but I'll do it after I shower and eat.