So, tomorrow night’s Red Sox/Rays game will have everyone nervous. On one hand, you have the Red Sox facing elimination. On the other hand, you have Rays fans who know that the Red Sox *enjoy* living on the edge like that. And I’m pretty sure that means everyone will be driven to drink.
And so I present to you:
Danielle: Have a good night!
Me: [long pause] …Get lots of work done!
Danielle: HEY!! Fine. Have a productive night that doesn’t involve baseball then.
Me: Okay. That I can live with. You too!
Danielle: gosoxokaybye!
Me: Goodnight, bitchface!
Now I’m going to go watch and see how far into this game JoshBECKETT can take a nono. *duck*
We have reached that time again—when I cannot talk to any Red Sox fans because I get annoyed with them (and they with me). So I’m going to pretend there is no Rays/Sox series happening in Fenway this week. I’m ignoring the fact that it is JUNE and my Rays are in first place. Quite frankly, I am still waiting for the other shoe to drop, as can be seen by the way I take a screencap of the standings Every. Single. Day. In case it is the Rays last day in first place. (Yes, I am aware that when they are one and a half game ahead, they can only lose one game in the standings at a time, but I am clearly irrational.)
So, ignoring the Showdown of the Century in Boston this week, I feel it is time for yet another name change for the Tampa Bay Rays.
I know, I know. You are saying to yourself, “Why would they change their name yet again, now that they have finally started winning by casting Satan out of the name?”
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This is one of those entries that desperately needs a photo, and yet, sadly, my quest for one has been fruitless.
I hate to be one of those Pink Hat Fans that just talk about how dreamy Johnny Damon’s hair is, or how sexy Gabe Kapler’s arms are, but I have be thoroughly shallow and talk about a player’s personal appearance. I have to talk about Dustin Pedroia.
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So. Bartolo Colon.
I’m not even going to rant about all the articles calling him fat, although you know I want to. Here is my request–no, my PLEA to sportswriters everywhere: Please, oh, please can we use his full name in headlines?
I know what you’re thinking: “But, Mel, why are you acting like a twelve-year-old boy?” Because I am. Because, I’m sorry, but pretty much no matter what verb you put after the name “Colon,” you are stuck with a silly headline. Whether it’s “Colon feels strong” or “Colon has good outing”–COME ON. I’m not much for the scatalogical humor, but how am I NOT supposed to snicker like my brother when I see “Thumbs-up on Colon” leading an article?
Also, please stop calling him fat. Everybody knows he is. We don’t need it beat into our heads.
Y’all, spring training needs to happen, like, IMMEDIATELY.
In November there was the flush of victory, and then there were the holidays, but now I’m starting to really go through withdrawal. There is twitching and cold sweats and sometimes I start to check for the box scores, even though THEY ARE NOT THERE. But I think I hit rock bottom the other night when my quest for something vaguely resembling baseball led me to watch basketball.
I will give y’all a moment to digest that, as it is something of a rarity in my life.
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There is probably something incredibly bizarre about my family that we are headed to Vegas for Veterean’s Day weekend.
Before I leave, though, there are a couple things I wanted to talk about.
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I’m taking a quick poll.
Now, I’m not a fan of pink sportswear, in general. Not really the color, per se, but the pink hat fans who have their pink jerseys and don’t understand the infield fly rule. You know, the ones who give all female fans a bad name because we seem like we are all girlie about baseball and that our appreciation for the game only goes as far as the knowledge that Gabe Kapler is hot. (He totally is, but that’s beside the point.) And apparently the girlie-fication of sportswear is calming down a little, because I couldn’t find a pink jersey in any online sports store, and thus am unable to illustrate part of my point. But let’s move on.
Not long ago I bought Jack (Cath? Am I allowed to link to your blog, or would you prefer I didn’t?) a Red Sox cap, because apparently he has friends who are Yankees fans, and I feel it is my duty as honorary aunt and crazy person to nip that in the bud. And while I was browsing the MLB shop, I bought a henley that looks like this, except it has a Boston logo on it.
OMG, you’d think I’d have bought a pink jersey with DAMON 18 on the back, the way that Danielle carried on. She says that my pink henley is EXACTLY like that, but I say it is almost totally different. It’s not like I took the team’s jersey or t-shirt or whatever and waved my magical princess wand to make it pink and girlie. I bought a pink henley that has, as an added bonus, a Red Sox logo on it. I say it is completely different. She says I make us look bad.
Dear Reader(s), what are your thoughts? Feel free to tell Danielle how wrong she is in the comments.
Dear Rays:
First of all, let me say that I’m really excited that you will only be the Devil Rays for a few more days, and then next season we switch over to Just Plain Rays. That is spectacular news, guys. It is almost as exciting at the thought that you will no longer have those stupid sleeveless uniforms anymore.
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In the spirit of Overheard in New York, I give you Overheard at Camden Yards Last Weekend:
Guy Who Was Teaching His Date a Lot About Baseball: They’re not booing him. They’re saying, “Yooouuuuuuk,” which is short for his name: Youkakolis.
I would probably have been less snarky about this comment and much more forgiving had there not been a giant picure of Kevin Youkilis accompanied by his name in GIANT LETTERS right there on the Jumbotron.
And that, my friends, is why Red Sox Nation rolls its collective eyes at Orioles fans.
On a related note, I would like to say that although I seem like the likely candidate, I am in no way responsible for Youk getting injured yesterday.
For once.
