NLDS REQUIEM: WHO GIVES A SHIT, IT'S GONE!

Yes, the National League still has great players in it. Yes, I'm supposed to enjoy...what am I doing here?

I don't care. St. Louis was a good team (yes, they caught a young, rusty team on too much rest at just the right time...I feel for you DJ Canoli) ...but... I still don't care.

Cubs. Done.

Phillies. Done.

Rockies. (My sentimental favorite...the team name was an NHL team once too.,..try Uni Watch on the sidebar) Still Alive.

Two sweeps. Great. Fuck it.

I really like the designated hitter, and I also enjoyed David Ortiz playing a good enough 1B in the 2004 World Series.) Oh, and remember Reggie Jefferson? Liked that guy too. Boss Vaughn rarely DHed.

And I'm a designated hitter. (Or at least this article got me a job at Air America Radio...that network had no real plan though.)

This ain't no threat. But hey, take it personal:



(DJ Premier is spinning at the Knitting Factory tonight, New York beat junkies...I'm not going because I have to go to a more personal show...and God, I hope she's healthy and putting the CAN in CANcer.)

Game 163: And now I have an NL team to root for.

Look, I don't know if Matt Holliday was safe or not, and I don't think you do either. All I know is that was an awesome game, and I surely am happy I peeked at the TV at The Turkey's Nest before I went home. How happy?



That happy.

I'm also more tired than "Chicken Noodle Soup" is. Bar's closed tomorrow, kids.

Um, tomorrow being...today? Whatever. It's Bedtime for Bonzo.

Three games to go: My People...Hold On

Yeah alright, I'm a little...nervous isn't the word. Tired, maybe, since I'd rather be focusing on the amazingly entertaining mediocrity of that AAAA league we call the National League (the Rockies haven't lost since September 15th!) then semi-sweating the last three games. Sure, Joe Torre showed some nice signs of not giving a fuck last night (your closer for the night: Jose Veras...and Joba's pitching the 8th instead of the 9th in that configuration...why?), but teams can stumble into victory, especially when the competition is the Tampa Bay Rays nee Devil Rays.

(Incidentally, Paul Lukas' Uni Watch is right: Tampa's new, no longer devilish look is borrrring. At least a crazy minor league look would be entertaining...and appropriate considering the franchise history.)

It's a different scenario thanks to the playoff system and the fact that, really, the Sox can't blow what matters: we're in. But the difference between facing the wounded Angels and trying to negotiate the tilted-cap Scylla and young Charybdis is...significant. And boy oh boy do the Sox have a recent history of collapse.

A little funk to pep you up for tonight, which will hopefully be at least half-magical. We are standing on the verge of getting it on, my people. Hold on.