HAPPY OPENING DAY!!

It's like Christmas, Valentine's Day, and the last day of school all rolled into one. Actually sitting down to play with my fantasy teams' starting lineups this morning was perhaps the greatest feeling ever.

My best opening day ever was Opening Day 2005 at Yankee Stadium against my Red Sox, which I went to with my Yanks fan ex-boyfriend (I know, I know...). I wore my "Insoxicated '05" T-shirt and MLB Fitted Authentic and got the living daylights abused out of me for 3 straight hours. I loved every minute of it. Oh, and we won.

If you want coverage, I will direct you, as always, to Walkoff Walk.

Gearing up for baseball season

From my good friend Mike, who is a Yankees fan (we got into a baseball fight the very first day we met and bonded instantly as a result):

11:48 PM Michael:i'm psyched for Yankees opening day, which is the highlight of my week no matter what

me: fab

11:49 PM Michael: trying to decide whether tomorrow is a rizzuto jersey day or a matsui jersey day

matsui did just get married, so he might win out

me: GOJIRA

:-D

Michael: aroooooo

me: I'm so excited it's baseball again I can't even hate on your Yankees nonsense

like the thought of a Matsui jersey actually just made me smile

Michael: haha

11:50 PM oh!

i got to experience how the other half lives last week

i was wearing a boston shirt

not a red sox shirt

just a boston shirt

and some fat guy wearing a cheetos-stained Devils t-shirt came up to me and said "hey, boston fuckin' sucks!"
"I'm a Yankee fan, buddy."

"They fuckin' SUCK!"

11:51 PM "...you're brilliant."

'Nuff said. Boston and New York are ready for baseball, that's for sure.

Congratulations, Nationals!

What a way to inaugurate the Nationals' beautiful new park: Tied with the Braves 2-2 heading into the bottom of the 9th, the team was lifted to victory by a walk-off home run from Ryan Zimmerman (his 4th career walk-off homer, incidentally).

BAM!

Enough with the excuses already

OK boys and girls. Bring in the patio furniture and stay clear of your glass windows: it's ranting time!

I'm fully aware that not everyone likes hockey. And that's OK by me. Personally, I'd rather gouge my eyes out than sit through a tennis match. My loathing of tennis is such that I've deliberately refused to understand how the scoring works; every time someone's attempted to explain it to me, I tell them I honestly don't want to know. Tennis can suck it. And if you want to tell me that you'd rather watch back-to-back episodes of "My Name Is Earl" than sit through a period of hockey, that's cool.

But one thing I simply cannot take that I've been getting absolutely inundated with lately is the EXCUSE for not being a Bruins fan. People who tell me they don't like hockey are one thing, but when I meet a supposed Boston sports fan who's ready to fill my ear with "justifications" for having jettisoned the Bruins from their loyalties? I call bullshit. BULLSHIT, my dears.

As a frame of reference, imagine that you just met someone from Boston who claims to be a big sports fan, but doesn't like the Red Sox. Doesn't make any fucking sense, does it? That's how I feel about these everything-but-the-Bruins fans.

Here's a sampling of some of the excuses I've been getting lately (to be read aloud in the whiniest voice possible -- and no, I did not make these up):

• The season is too long!
• I haven't been able to watch since the strike!
• I haven't been able to watch since the Joe Thornton trade!
• There are too many goalies!
• The front office doesn't know what they're doing!
• I don't know any of the players!
• I'd rather watch the Celtics!

and the absolute, bottom-of-the-barrel worst:

• They're just going to lose anyway!

*deep breath*

Some of those excuses are just patently stupid. Don't know the players? Well for pete's sake. Stop reading Fleshbot and click your way on over to the Bruins website, which, SURPRISINGLY, has information on the players! Got issues with the strike? Well, buddy, the NHLPA isn't the first group to call a players strike -- and all the guys you see playing today are playing under the salary cap without complaining. So why the hell should you care?

My real issues, however, lie with the excuses that seem to imply that a franchise that is not flourishing does not deserve fans. They only serve to validate the #1 criticism of Boston fans: that we are bandwagoneers who distribute our loyalties according to the most recent championship or blockbuster trade. NO NO. PLEASE NO. I suffered through too many flop Red Sox seasons, too many games with Parcells on the sidelines, and too many disheartening press conferences with Chauncey Billups. The fact that every other Boston-area team is super nasty good right now is all the MORE reason that the Bruins should get fan support. Being a fan should involve investment: a commitment to hope, perhaps even to the point of suspending your disbelief, that your team will do well. You're not investing anything by giving your support to a defending World Series champion, a 3-time Superbowl winner, or a best-in-the-league juggernaut. The team to invest in is the Bruins, and the time to do it is now.

Yes, I'm going to say it: If you are a Boston sports fan, YOU SHOULD WATCH THE BRUINS. That's it. Plain and simple. If not, you're not a Boston fan, and that's the goddamn truth.

Here come the D-Train!

I absolutely love when athletes turn out to have the exact same personalities that you imagined/hoped they would. To wit: Dontrelle Willis, who is exactly the same slightly arrogant yet goofy and adorable person I've always known he was. Here he is hanging out with Ryan Howard and David Wright on the set of their new Topps commercial. I saw Dontrelle pitch at Pro Player Stadium during his unreal 2004 season and it was awesome.

Oh, and if you need another reason to love the Dontrelle: He's a blogger.

Brackets, I hardly knew ye

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Volunteers that day --
A three-seed and a two-seed? Surely, there's a game to play.
But when the Vols were down by nearly twenty?! Champs, my ass:
A pall-like silence fell upon this erstwhile chatty lass.

Oh, somewhere out in Louisville the sun is shining bright,
The Cardinals are laughing, and the students' hearts are light,
And somewhere someone's entry in a pool is free of doubt;
But there is no joy for this girl -- now the Volunteers are out.



(do your homework)

LIVE GLOG of Red Sox Opening Day 2008: Japan!

I'm deeply concerned that the caption of this photo actually says something incredibly offensive in Japanese.

5:45 AM. I woke up 15 minutes ago. I'm still not quite sure why. The song my alarm clock selected for purposes of waking me up was "Say It Right" by Nelly Furtado. At the time, I remember thinking that this particular song was strangely appropriate to the point of humorous. I'm going to have to tell someone about this, I remember thinking. I have no idea why I thought that. I hauled ass out of my toasty warm apartment to go get coffee only to discover that my Starbucks was closed. Heathens. HEATHENS! I had to go to Dunkin Donuts instead, where the guy behind the counter looked as unimpressed by me as I was by him. Lord help me, this is turning into a Peter King column before I've even gotten started. I'm wearing a T-shirt my brother gave me in honor of the occasion that reads, "It's not over 'til the Big Papi swings." I am not wearing pants, because it's too FREAKING early for pants. Apparently, 5:30 AM makes me write like Ernest Hemingway.

5:52 AM. I have suddenly become convinced that this entire "Japan" game concept is simply the universe playing a colossal prank on me -- me! -- for the sole purpose of making me look like an ass, and that at 6:05 my TV is going to Rick Roll me or something. Aha, there's the proof: the analysts just tried to convince me that Scott Kazmir is going to win more than 15 games this season. Now I know this is all just a big joke.

6:09 AM. I am being forced to listen to Mike and Mike debate whether or not they care about this game. You know what, Mike and Mike? I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU.

6:19 AM. Where is the baseball?!

1st Inning. I am a moron, because the game here is being shown on NESN and not ESPN2. All my conspiracy theories have gone out the window. I come in late -- Dice-K is pitching to Jack Cust and appears to have already let up one run. Guess the Sox did nothing in the top of the inning. One on, one out. I wonder what they sell in the stands at Japanese ball stadiums. I have visions of shouting, "Hey, Sake Man!" Ooh, nice changeup. Yikes! A wild pitch will advance the runners -- 2 men in scoring position, and still only one out. This is less exhilarating than I would have hoped. Matsuzaka has now walked the bases loaded, and the 7th batter for Oakland is Bobby Crosby. I have to admit that I don't know much about the A's this year, as they got distinctly less interesting once they traded Haren and Swisher, but I have always thought that Bobby Crosby looks like kind of a douchebag. Matsuzaka is able to field a hit towards the third-base line and throw Crosby out at first, but a run scores. Finally, a strikeout, and we have an end to an 18-minute, 30-pitch half-inning.

2nd Inning: Mike Lowell is on base, and my fantasy team collects its first hit. My dad just called me to ask if I was in a bar. Give me a LITTLE credit, Dad. Joe Blanton, the current pitcher for the A's (I'm assuming that Rich Harden is in the hospital recovering from massive hemorrhage following a paper cut), has a truly bizarre delivery. Inning over on a double play. I'm not entirely convinced this was worth waking up for.

Oakland opens the bottom of the 2nd with yet another man on base. OK THAT WAS A STRIKE YOU DIPSHIT UMP. Travis Buck looks like the archetypal fratboy wankoff at some East Coast liberal arts school who all the girls assume is deep because he's from California and wears flip flips even when it's cold, man. I have decided to eschew all legitimate sports commentary in favor of poorly constructed ad hominem attacks on each of the A's in turn. I am the Rush Limbaugh of sports blogging. Hey, guess what I'm not doing right now? Facebook-stalking my ex-boyfriend's vacation pictures. Nope, definitely not wasting my time on that. Kurt Suzuki is holding on at 2nd with 2 outs as we are back to the top of the A's batting order with Mark Ellis. ANOTHER walk from Dice-K.

News on the Boston catcher front, courtesy of my NESN crawl: Dusty Brown has been optioned back down to AAA, and the Sox have purchased the contract of Kevin Cash. Cool, I guess.

ANOTHER GODDAMN WALK. WHAT IS GOING ON?! John Farrell is (finally) out to the mound. Something seems legitimately wrong with Matsuzaka's delivery. I've seen him rebound from situations like this before, though, and I remain optimistic (bases loaded 2 outs eeeeek). Strike one. Strike two. Julian Tavarez is warming up. Ball one with a high changeup. Foul tip. STRIKE THREE CALLED! Ellsbury, Lugo, and Pedroia are up.

3rd Inning: Ellsbury down, but Lugo sends a fastball up the middle for a single. Pedroia ALMOST hits a home run. Youk up with 2 down and 1 on. Apparently the "YOUUUUK!" cheer has reached international proportions. Youkilis beats out a hit to first and Ortiz is up with two men on. My T-shirt is happy. It's really been killer how great Manny and Papi have looked this spring. Eh, and on that, Ortiz is out at first.

Matsuzaka opens the inning with two down. Dude, he pulls this every time he starts. He'll be fine. Jack Hannahan sounds like the friend who would get killed in a movie about the Irish mafia, leading the main character to thirst for revenge. Oh, except now he's apparently the guy on first. Amazing jumping backhand grab by Lugo to end the inning. That will silence my "PUT IN JED LOWRIE" catcalls... for now.

4th Inning: Note that the Sox are actually outhitting the A's 4-2 even though we're losing 2-0. Manny is up. Manny will hit me a home run. Manny loves me. Nope, just kidding, he hates me and decides to fly out to Travis Buck (guhh) instead. I am going to take a loss by the Red Sox this morning as a personal affront. Manny looks great, by the way. Like in really good shape. Oh, Manny, I can't stay mad at you. Lowell flies out. Brandon Moss (who looks eerily like Bobby Kielty) is out at first. I think I need a shower.

FINALLY, a 1-2-3 inning from Dice-K. Shower time. Maybe that will make me feel less like a zombie.

6th Inning: Uh, it's now 3-2, Red Sox. I knew that was going to happen. It's been scientifically demonstrated that the Red Sox like to score the minute I leave the room. You can thank me for that later. Alan Embree and his giant wad of cheek mush are in for the A's, pitching to Varitek with 2 down and 1 on. Tek out on a foul tip into the catcher's mitt.

Kyle Snyder is in to pitch to Crosby, of whom I have become quite sick. What do we want to bet these people from New Hampshire being interviewed in the stands at the Tokyo Dome have never been to Europe? Also, I wonder if anyone in Oakland is even watching this game. Freaking Hannahan hits a 2-run home run off of Kyle Snyder. Well, that was over quick. Someone needs to teach Suzuki how to bunt. Rich Harden looks brooding and green-eyed in the dugout... mmm. Suzuki makes two down, and I'm going to have to leave in 10 minutes to go to work. UGH. Inning's over, and it's 4-2, Oakland.

7th Inning: Ellsbury is on, and then Lugo grounds into a double play. PUT IN JED LOWRIE.

Do they not have a Seventh Inning Stretch in Japan? Bwahaha I forgot Keith Foulke signed with Oakland. That makes me mildly more optimistic. PUT IN KEITH FOULKE! Snyder is out, at last, and I've got my fingers crossed hard that we'll see Okajima, which is making it really hard to get dressed and do my hair. Nope, just kidding, it's Javy Lopez. Who is cute. Yay. Out number 2. Lopez tosses a strikeout to end the inning. Heroics are coming up, most likely as soon as I leave to go to work.

I can't BELIEVE I have to leave right now. Someone call me if we score... please?


10th Inning: Oh man! I made it here just in time to catch Manny Ramirez knocking in Lugo and Ortiz with a double! Not quite as thrilling on MLB Gameday, perhaps, but hot DAMN. I was a fidgety mess on the T the entire way to work. 6-4, SAWX! Apparently it was Huston Street that let up those runs, that posturing pretty boy. He's out in favor of Lenny DiNardo, who I think was supposed to be in the A's starting rotation this year.

In case you're wondering what you (and I) missed, Brandon Moss (who the hell is Brandon Moss?) hit a game-tying home run in the top of the 9th. He spent most of last year in Pawtucket, but did play a couple of games in the Big Leagues... and looks to be off to a promising start this year. Moss actually scored in the 6th as well. Good for him.

Papelbon (obviously) is doing his thing for the Sox, and for my fantasy team as well. This was actually a pretty decent game, although I still resent MLB for making me endure it. Papelbon appears to be struggling to get outs, as Daric (is that really how he spells his name?) Barton walks. Jack Cust strikes out swinging, and we're two outs away from our FIRST victory of 2008 (and me getting a cup of coffee the size of a kiddie pool). Emil Brown is out at 3rd, but has knocked a run home. WHAT IS PAPELBON DOING?! 6-5, Sox. Smarmy-looking Bobby Crosby is up and singles on a line drive up the center. Now Hannahan (that spoiler) is up again. I'm already sick to death of this Oakland lineup. And, holy crap, Hannahan singles too, and there are 2 on with 2 down. Too bad no A's fans are awake to enjoy this. I bet Papelbon hasn't seen this many singles since the first taping of "Sox Appeal." (Ba-zing!) Kurt Suzuki is up. 2 balls (heh) from Papelbon. THANK GOD, Papelbon gets the out, and a whopping 9.00 ERA to start my fantasy season off right.

6-5, Red Sox! It wasn't pretty, but I'll take it. I'm just so happy there's real baseball on TV again, I could kiss someone.

Thanks for the handful of you checking in this morning. If you get a chance, the boys at Walkoff Walk double-teamed this game today as well, so check it out. And, with that, it's time to, uh, work. Sighhh...

Shelley Duncan's Miraculous Talking Eyeballs

At times, I write timely and topical pieces keeping you, my loyal readers (hi, Mom and Dad!), informed about important goings-on in the sports world. At other times, because I am an Ivy-League snot and a former English teacher, I make fun of other people's apparent inability to formulate coherent sentences.

Join me then, if you will, in a chortle at this gem of a mangled idiom from an ESPN.com article on New York's Shelley Duncan, who is currently appealing his 3-game suspension following his participation in a brawl with the Rays last week:

"To give Bob Watson and Major League Baseball a chance to hear the story from my eyes is pretty important to me," Duncan said, according to MLB.com.

Phenomenal, Shelley. Apparently your eyeballs can talk. Wouldn't it be fun, indeed, if all ballplayers' body parts could talk? What do we think Akinori Iwamura's meat-and-2-veg would be saying to Duncan's cleats in this picture?



I'm guessing something along the lines of, "YEAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOO!"

I can't wait to die!

I try to be philosophical about death. It's going to happen to all of us, you know? Plus, as I understand it, being dead means you can pull wacky pranks on Abbott and Costello. Cool!

One of the things that worries me about the prospect of death, though, is that I fear there will be no sports in the afterlife. I mean, everyone is supposed to kind of get along and junk once we've shuffled off this mortal coil, right? How is the prospect of eternal bliss in any way compatible with having to share said eternity and bliss with a bunch of dumbass brotards from the Bronx wearing Derek Jeter jerseys and arguing about how Chuck Knoblauch belongs in the Hall of Fame? (HE DOESN'T.) I'm not sure I'm comfortable with having to leave my homerism behind, even if it does mean a perfect life in an incorruptible body while participating in the transcendent spiritual good that underlies the universe. Damn it all to hell... wait, no, that's not what I meant.

Anyhoodle, it appears that MLB, forward-thinking body of spiritual assuagement that they are, has already anticipated this crisis of faiths, and has accordingly licensed a series of commemorative caskets and urns so that you can be buried with your love for your team.



Check out the full line at the company's website here; note that you can also buy Precious Moments and Star Trek caskets, should you feel so inclined.

Note: This story is actually pretty old, but it only showed up on The Sporting News yesterday, and I don't usually bother watching Outside The Lines because I don't care about human interest stories about how female high school wrestlers are brave for breaking gender stereotypes and blah blah blah.

Finally, a REASON to watch March Madness

Obviously, that title is a tad on the facetious side, as the fact that I have no real college basketball allegiances (um, go Tigers? Hey, we were a 15th-seed team my sophomore year. Take that, Yale!) has never stopped me from watching every game the NCAA tournament has to throw at me each year. But this year, things is different. Why, you may ask? Well, kids, this year I'll be rooting for Cornell.


BECAUSE MY LITTLE BROTHER JUST GOT IN THERE.



WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!





:)

Tampa Bay is the new Boston

I know, I know, I'm as surprised to hear it as you are. But if recent flare-ups during Spring Training games between the Devil Rays and the Yankees are any indication, the AL East could have a sexy new rivalry on its hands come Opening Day.

The brouhaha started yesterday, when Yankees catching prospect Francisco Cervelli's wrist was shattered during a home plate collision with Rays infielder Elliot Johnson. (Note that, just days before, Carl Crawford had plowed into Astros catcher Humberto Quintero at the plate in another game. It seems that the Rays' plan for domination this year consists of taking out members of every other team one by one. That may be their only chance at a playoffs run, anyway.) New Yanks skipper Joe Girardi called the hit "uncalled for," but insisted that retaliation would not be in his next game plan. Rays manager Joe Maddon, however, appeared nothing short of gleeful at the crash, saying, "I loved the hardball." [Ed. note: Didn't we all?]

Today's matchup between the two teams, however, saw the tension escalate to a new level, as a high inside pitch thrown by pinstriped pitching prospect (whee!) Heath Phillips at red-hot Tampa Bay outfield prospect Evan Longoria resulted in Phillips' ejection. Later, Yankee Shelley Duncan (god, I feel like I'm a high-schooler filling my BFFs in on the hot gossip from the weekend!!1! omg 4eva) made an over-aggressive slide into second base [Ed. note: a technique I'm all too familiar with] -- and that was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. The result: A bench-clearing brawl that ultimately saw 5 players tossed from the game.

Man, I'm exhausted just from typing and hyperlinking that. Here's hoping these two lame-ass teams wear one another out by fighting all season, leaving my Red Sox to cruise effortlessly to another division title.

Next week: will Nick Markakis' secret finally be revealed? Will Vernon Wells' evil twin show up in time to stop the wedding? Tune in to find out... this is All My AL East Children.

Oh, and one final note: Evan Longoria (see below) has officially been added to my List Of Athletes I Love. Any other Yankees bitches trying to take him out this season will have ME to answer to. Seriously, this kid is hot (although some disagree with me). He'll be the future of Tampa Bay, as long as we can keep him from starting some half-assed and honestly kind of creepy charity...

Gawd, he's so FRESHFACED and FULL OF PROMISE. Yowza!

Live "Glog": Bruins v. Senators

So I learned today that the proper technological term for live-blogging a game is "glogging." I'd seen the term before, but honestly, I kind of just thought everyone was spelling it wrong. Well, color me enlightened: "Glog" is a portmanteau of "G-ame" and "b-LOG." Thanks, Punter!

Accordingly, here is my (ahem!) glog of the 2nd period of the Bruins game (it's currently the 3rd, which makes this a LIVE glog):

THAT
CALL
WAS
HORSESHIT

Thank you.

That is all.

You should care about hockey

This is always, always the worst week of the year for sports. The initial luster of Spring Training has worn off. Selection Sunday hasn't happened yet, so we don't have brackets to obsess over. There's plenty of kind-of-news that could or could not lend itself to mildly amusing posts, be it Felix Pie's twisted nether bits (gross), Billy Crystal suiting up for the Yankees (who gives a crap), or Dwayne Wade being out for the rest of the season (WAHHHHHHHH!). But, truth be told, I'm just not that INTERESTED in any of those stories (except for the D-Wade one, and that just makes me sad).

Instead, I think I'll spend the day practicing my Canadian accent in order to better hurl epithets at my television during the Bruins/Senators (that's Les Sénateurs d'Ottawa for you French speakers) game tonight.




Tonight's game, as with basically every game we have coming down the stretch, is A Big Deal. If we beat Ottawa, our point total will increase to 82; the Senators currently have 83 points on the season, while the division-leading Habs have 85. In other words, we're within striking distance of winning our division, which is probably more than the Leafs or Sabres (sorry, James) can say. However, given the highly competitive nature of the Atlantic division (the Devils have 86, the Penguins have 85, and the Rangers have 83) it could prove more difficult to actually win a 4-8 seed than to win our division. In other words: we need a friggin' win tonight.

Our last matchup against Ottawa on February 26 resulted in a 4-0 victory for us behind Tim Thomas' 22 saves and 2 goals from Zdeno Chara. Hopefully some of that sweet, sweet lovin' coming his way will help Thomas regain his magic in the goal tonight -- if he plays, since Coach Julien is playing his cards awfully close to his chest and not revealing who the starting netminder will be. No word yet on whether Chara, who missed Sunday's shootout loss to the Rangers with an upper torso injury (a broken heart?), will be back in action for tonight. I know many of you are simply dying of suspense, so rest assured: I'll check the updates after the B's morning skate at 11:30.



Update: Zdeno Chara will NOT be playing tonight. Marc Savard plans to score 7 first-period goals to make up for it. Alex Auld will be starting in goal.

Fantasy team #1: drafted!

Despite the confusion of Daylight Savings, I still managed to drag myself out of bed this morning in time for my fantasy baseball draft. Hooray! My team's name is PronktablyUnbeatable, named for Travis Hafner's winning fantasy football team last year (yes, I read too much Sports Illustrated). Here are the picks:

1. Prince Fielder. Dude. Even with the 11th pick out of 13 teams I still got the Prince. Hawkins taking Miggy before Fielder? Pshhh thanks for the free RBIs, suckah.
2. Josh Beckett. Santana was the only starter off the board at this point, and I did get some accusations of being a homer for this pick, but we'll see who's laughing when I'm leading the league in wins.
3. Derrek Lee. I'm planning on playing Fielder at utility, so the opportunity to grab Lee at 1B was too good to pass up.
4. Jonathan Papelbon. I decided I was going to beat the closer rush this year. I feel no need to justify this pick.
5. Jason Bay. Good outfielders go fast in the first rounds. I had to make a move.
6. Joe Mauer. I couldn't BELIEVE he was still available in the 6th round, especially with a Twins homer like Boyle drafting before me. Plus, he ups the hottie factor of my team significantly -- an important factor frequently overlooked by my male counterparts.
7. Fausto Carmona. I struggled on this one -- did I want Roy Halladay instead? Ultimately, I opted for Carmona on the grounds that his team is significantly more likely to give him the run support for a win. Plus, he's looked great so far this spring.
8. Jacoby Ellsbury. I was trying hard not to overload my team with Red Sox... but come ON. Ellsbury still on the board in the 8th round? It would have been foolish not to take him. He's going to be a huge boost in the more elusive offensive categories.
9. Josh Fields. I LOVE this pick.
   
10. Trevor Hoffman. Koller put it best: "40 saves is 40 saves."
11. Jhonny Peralta. Thank god we're not in a defense league. Honestly, Jeter was still available at this point, but I just couldn't do it.
12. Jered Weaver. Weaver is going to win 14 games this year. You heard it here first. Do the sabermetrics.
13. Orlando Hudson. Damn, I am loving my infield at this point.
14. Jeremy Hermida. Here's hoping he can do for an entire season what he did for the second half of last year. I love the combination of Bay, Hermida, and Ellsbury in the outfield.
15. Andy Pettitte. No, I didn't want to draft a Yankee, but Pettitte is money. Honestly, I think he was a steal at this point in the draft.
16. Rick Ankiel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
17. Ryan Theriot. Wow. Another great pick. He can back up at both 2B and SS, and he likes to steal bases. I like that.
18. Adam LaRoche. I've said before that LaRoche is always drastically undervalued in fantasy drafts. This draft was no exception. He's already off to a hot start this spring, too. The obvious issue here is that I've got nowhere to play him, since 1B is the position I have the most depth at. He's great to have, though, if only for trading purposes.
19. Greg Maddux. Oh god he's like 100 years old. I still think he'll be an asset.
20. Mark Buehrle. Eh, I'm not thrilled with myself for freaking out and drafting 2 pitchers in a row this late in the draft, but I had so many extra innings left at the end of the last year that I felt the need to overcompensate this year. I should have taken another 3B. Ah well -- Buehrle is a workhorse, and he rebounded surprisingly well last year after that less-than-spectacular 2006 season.
21. Paul LoDuca. Considering I'll only play him when Mauer is out, and Mauer generally bats every day since he DH's when he's not catching, this was more insurance than anything else. There's nothing worse than scrambling to make a trade for a decent catcher when no one wants to trade theirs... and then you get stuck scooping up John Buck from the free agency pool and hating yourself for a month. Nooo thanks.

Yeah, I fizzled a bit in the later rounds (I was drafting for Tim, too, so I was switching back and forth between my rankings and his, and it got tough). The only real bummer was that I didn't get Evan Longoria. I made the mistake of mentioning that I was interested in him, and Boyle had to go rain on my parade. I LOVE this team, though, and overall I think I drafted well. I've got another draft in a couple of weeks, but for now these are my boys. Let's go Pronks!


Update: I changed my team name back to Bobby Kielty's Homer, which was the name I originally signed up with, and which is a nice double entendre given that I just pulled off a ridiculous trade for Mike Lowell and now have 4 members of my home team on my fantasy team. Now THAT is a homer.

Some straight-up Tim Thomas lovin'

That's right. 'Cause lord knows my boy needs it. Just days after being named NHL Second Star of the Week coming off 3 straight wins (including that glorious performance against the Thrashers), Thomas melted down in the net against the onslaught of Ovechkin and the Capitals; he actually got pulled TWICE from that game. Tonight was another rough night for Thomas, as my boy let up 5 goals in an 8-2 loss to the Maple Leafs (insert joke about Canadians not being able to spell here). Wahh!

This is truly sad -- not only for the Bruins' playoffs chase, but because Thomas has been such a joy to watch goaltend this season. His unconventional, highly aggressive style is nothing short of dazzling at times, and he always displays a charming, boyish giddiness in press conferences after games where he knows he's done well. I'm laying it all on the table, as I am wont to do: I love me some Tim Thomas. Now, some have suggested that the best thing for me to do as a pro-active Bruins fan would be for me to provide Thomas with, er, some womanly attention. To which I say: nay. My love for Tim Thomas exists on a far more transcendent level than that. Thus, Tim Thomas, I send you my undying love and devotion via this series of tubes that we call the Internet. I believe in your ability to lead us into the postseason in a blaze of glory. I BELIEVE IN YOU, Tim Thomas.

Now, all we need is a little more of this:


and a little less of this:

You're welcome, Internet

You knew I wouldn't put that big, ugly, not-at-all-sports-related rant up without also giving you a frosty chocolate milkshake to wash it down with. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to party with dinosaurs? Now you know, courtesy of the incomparable Whitest Kids U' Know.

Is there a way to burn Facebook down to the ground?

Of course I'm on Facebook. Of course I'm addicted. I'm a recent college graduate with friends in countless different parts of the world (not to be confused with "hos in different area codes"), and I like keeping in touch with them. Plus, if there's a better tool for obsessing over cute boys, I haven't seen it.

But oh, I loathe so many, many things about Facebook. The tacky "applications." The games idiot people in idiot relationships play with changing their "status." And, above all, I hate the groups. "Haha you guys, let's make an automatically generated online page with an inside joke on it so it can occupy a line of text on the lower left corner of my profile and let the world know that I can enjoy the same jokes that 10,000 other dipshits do!" Kill me. Slowly and painfully.

Still, the typical inanity of such groups aside, I stumbled across this group today (which, I am sorry to report, two of my friends appear to have joined). Billing itself as "Young People AGAINST Barack Obama for President," the group appears to be a message board on which ultra-conservative young folks (god, I went to school with so many of those) can vent their poorly-constructed and empty arguments against the Liberal Left. I believe my favorite argument is the one suggesting that a vote for Barack is a vote for Hitler:

I agree with all of the supporters of Obama who cite the fact that he is a masterful orator. However, so was Hitler. So is Ahmadinejad. The dangers of his semantics and speeches enraptures the less self-aware and politically conscious electorate.

Really? The LESS self-aware and politically conscious? Oh, but not to worry -- there is a solution (a Final Solution?):

As disgusting as the idea sounds, we must ensure that Clinton receives the Democratic nomination.

I didn't realize college kids could sound so EVIL. "[We] must ensure..." Yikes! This group is just one more example of what I always experience when I read or listen to right-wing rhetoric. The kind of thing I might say while parodying such rhetoric (while twirling my moustache, wearing my tophat, and looking shiftily out through my monocle) is what people like this ACTUALLY SAY.

Now, all my good friends know me to be an ardent Clinton supporter -- in fact, I've devoted many hours to working on her campaign. Still, I like Obama a great deal, and would happily give him my vote were he to earn the Democratic nomination. And hot damn does this group make me mad. Madder than when I see a douchebag in a Yankees hat at the Cask & Flagon. Madder than when people walk slow on the sidewalk in front of me. Hell, even madder than when I rant about Jose Canseco. If anyone is friends with someone in this group, I highly encourage you to, like, not be.

Um, sports! Right.




Ahhhhh. That's better.

Technology is cool

Working from home means lots of time to play with my computer. I finally figured out how to download photos from my phone -- lookie! Here's a shot from my seat at the Bruins game Tuesday night (no, not the 10-2 game, thankfully):

I really think it's time for the NHL to switch to an international-sized rink, don't you? I mean, this is just ridiculously small.

Sadly, I didn't figure out until just now how to change the resolution on my camera such that the file size won't be, well, teeny. If you squint, you can ALMOST see hockey players... proof that this is indeed a hockey game, and not a showing of Disney's High School Musical on Ice!

The Celtics are headed to the playoffs!

Why do I feel like KG might be singing to the ball in this picture? Perhaps it's a still from the upcoming musical adaptation of the Celtics' 2008 season?

This surely doesn't come as surprising news -- I think everyone's been expecting to see the C's make it to the playoffs since before the season even started. But last night's 90-78 victory over Detroit sealed the deal, making the Celtics the first team in the NBA to earn a berth in this year's playoffs with a month and a half still left to play. Chauncy Billups was on Rajon Rondo like cheese on nachos and still couldn't hold him, as Rondo scored 16; Kevin Garnett contributed a season-high 31 points; Kendrick Perkins had 20 FREAKING BOARDS. It was a close game most of the way until the C's went on a 12-0 tear with around 5 minutes left in the 4th quarter and made it official. Well done, boys. This girl's proud of you.

Yeah, yeah. Western Conference ridiculously competitive stronger defense faster level of play more playoffs experience blah blah. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Everybody's a winner!

So, there's been a bit of a debate going on in the comments below about the proper definition of a "Natural Hat Trick" in hockey. Fortunately, we have with us today one of hockey's all-time greats to clear things up:



(clears throat) Ahem. A natural hat trick is when a player scores either a) a goal in each of the three periods, b) three goals in one period, or c) three of his team's goals in succession in one game.

Thanks, Bobby!

In other words, we were ALL right. Isn't that special?



(here's the source if you're curious)

Let the haterade flow

Today is the first warm day we've had in Boston. It's a glorious 56 degrees outside (that's officially referred to as "polka-dot dress weather" in Raquel-speak), and it seems only fitting to welcome the spring thaw with another spring tradition. That's right, kids... it's time to dust off my hatred of those pinstripers from the Bronx and bring it back to front and center on my mantle.

Now, I'll admit that the sheer joy of our thrilling journey to World Championship Land last fall was almost enough to sate my baseball bloodlust, rendering me magnanimous in victory and simply unconcerned with those pesky Yanks. However, I can thank the excellent Sports Hernia for reminding me why I should NEVER FORGET what unbelievable chumps who deserve to get their asses handed to them in painful and embarrassing fashion the Bronx Bombers truly are. From the mouth of Hank Steinbrenner:

"Go anywhere in America and you won't see Red Sox hats and jackets, you'll see Yankee hats and jackets. This is a Yankee country. In fact, it reminds me of that great Chevy commercial about how 'this is our country', I feel as though that was written with the New York Yankees in mind. We're going to put the Yankees back on top and restore the universe to order."

First of all, [deep breath] GUHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Second of all, I thought the Rockies had already claimed to be America's team. Third of all, seriously Hank, SHUT UP. Everything you say is garbage. We know you're trying to step out from under Daddy's shadow, but surely there are ways to accomplish that other than by being an insufferable blowhard. Oh, and it gets worse:

"Now from what I've seen and what my baseball people tell me, they have a fine closer up there in young Papelbon. But I'll be damned if he's the only one doing the Irish jig and running around like Shelley Duncan and my younger Yankees. Let it be known to Red Sox nation that when the Yankees board the Death Star and make their way to Boston for the first time this season in April, you can bet I'll be dancing on their logo as soon as I get there. And if they shave those funny looking socks into the mound area, you can be damn sure I'll be dancing on those too."

Now that's just... like... weird. Is he honestly, deliberately comparing his Yankees to the evil empire of death and destruction in Star Wars? Shouldn't that be the image he's trying NOT to cultivate if they are, in fact, America's team? Will the Yankees actually be riding a gigantic moon-sized space station with the firepower to destroy an entire planet to their first series in Boston? God, I'm so confused!

Ahh... I can feel the Yankees hatred flowing back into my veins, as strong as it ever was. All is right with the world.

It's almost enough to make a girl forget about that embarrassing 10-2 ass-kicking by the Capitals last night. ALMOST. There can't be many players who've managed to score a hat trick within one freaking period of a hockey game...