The Grass Is Riz

Here's the deal: I start my day with the sports pages religiously, for I have reached an emotional critical mass when it comes to current world and political events, and I don't need to start my morning in an ill frame of mind. That and the mere sight & sound of anything Dubya makes me want to puke. So contrary to what you may surmise from the readings on display here, I do not consider struttin' down the avenue with the taste of bile in the back of my throat as a cool way to meet chicks. Well, not really.

You'll perhaps understand, then, if I wonder whether there isn't something especially malevolent afoot whenever I see this bastard stalking me (like Death in Final Destination) while I would be otherwise deluded to distraction within my recreational realm; in this case, at a ballgame where he's to throw out the ceremonial first pitch. When this happens, I fantasize I'm the catcher. I imagine Dubya tossing his usual politician's limp-dick offering, then turning to wave, like the self-absorbed, oblivious pap-smear he is, to a rising cacophany of boos. It's right when he's not looking when I pretend further the runner's going! and -- Oops! -- I fire one off the pitcher's noggin... eliciting, of course, a wild roar from the crowd.

Not that I could ever let go the position of news-junkie, my raison d'etre, I'm just letting it go for now.

Meanwhile, I've renewed excitation for the Carmine Hose of Beantown, specific to last night's performance by their young horses, Beckett & Papelbon. Picked up the rookie closer-come-lately in my Fantasy Draft, concurrently though just before the fact he was brought in to close out Texas. I was hoping he'd be in the rotation by May, particularly so as I'd picked up Keith Foulke (Oy!) a coupla rounds earlier. Much better to have a stud starter & closer than a stud closer & a broken down middle-man, but, oh well, reckon I'll have to scan the waiver wire.

Lovin' the game in any case, especially if Sunday is a gorgeous sunny afternoon when Sundloff & I tool up to Bal'mer for O's/Sox -- Woo hoo!!

And if you're waiting for it, know that it'll be a while before you see Dubya at Fenway. Now there's a crowd, Gahd Bless 'em, that hasn't been properly vetted.