Are we home yet?

I'm not imbued with confidence in this team right now, because I'm just not sure which team the Red Sox are, and yet I'm feeling all this off of a somewhat hard-luck loss that could have been a feel good comeback. Daisuke was only okay, and then he was injured, but four relievers pitched shutout ball until the 9th, when someone other than Papelbon had to pitch (road versus home logic in the 9th of a tie game), and the prime candidate was still ol' man Timlin. Who, sadly, is pretty much done. He was quoted after the game frustrated that he was hitting his spots and still getting hit. That's old age, old man. And that's what happens when you have to get five innings out of your bullpen without a real long man. Can't wait until Masterson's in his likely September place in the pen.

Manny's 499th was something to see, and was absolutely critical in a game where the Sox made Miguel Batista look far better than the adequate pitcher he (sometimes) is, and specialized in putting men on 1st and 2nd with no outs and nothing to show for it. Of course, said home run was responsible for me turning the game back on, losing some sleep I really could have used (especially including the 45 minutes of winding down from the mindstate of "Fuuuuuuuuck!" that comes after losing any game in the 9th), and coming to work in such a delicious mood.

So that's .250 ball so far on this trip, or 1-8 over their last nine road games, with another five games to play on the last unmerciful ten-game road trip of the season. And a blown opportunity to take back first place. And two more 10:05 starts I'm not even fucking with. And one nap couch that my work place must purchase immediately, 'lest I give notice.

...

...

Eh, forget it. Hello, bed of keys. rsp;'./D{Dsareu3wq4lasdc

(mo speaks for a minute.)

Hey. Proprietor speaking. We're cleaning up this place. Had to send the barkeeper home; he's working too hard on his other nine jobs. Just catch up for awhile. Try the jukebox and don't even watch this guy's hands. I had hands like that. They build buildings now. Good night.

WEEKEND POST-GAME: First we cook, then we chill.

Alright. Nice Sunday. Ate at Joe's, wandered and discovered that if "Williamsburg" isn't dying, it's at least being pushed further and further South. Drank a couple beers here as the Angels hung tight and then got absolutely manhandled. Enjoyed the company of an Ozzie Sox fan among others. Wrote a couple rewritten lyrics.



gooooodbye anaheim angels...
I can't hang a name on you...
when it changes every new day...
I'm not gonna miss you...

Took the train. Heard via cell phone by field reporter Nay Ratzoo, #3 Marmaduke Fan in the world, that Clemens was down, Clemens was down, and Trot hit a homerun. Good.

(To my field reporter: give me a better name than what I just spat out there. Any name.)

Saw a brilliant show by a brave woman.

Passed by Slainte and saw that the Yankees were...ahead? Whatever. No, not whatever. Good. May as well see if anyone knows how this happened. Explained a bit of baseball to a dude from the U.K. because he asked me. Apparently I know more about cricket than I thought.

(Hello, across the pond: Jen, Dan, and Lil' E.)

Ordered a club soda just to be a customer. talked a bit of Chicago with some Bears fans, talked a bit of...business? with Packers fans. Fun.

Far as the [New York Highlanders] versus the [Cleveland Spiders], I have three words for you. Blood, blood, blood.

I'm cooked, now I chill.



And then I listen to this. Gorgeous song by a brave man composed as he lay dying, mainly just with some records, samples of which may never have cleared to my knowledge. Played by a Korean punk-rock band. I have been over this before. Wow. Wow. Wow.



Then I sleep. Bar's closed on "Columbus" Day. Um, enjoy it. But stare at this a minute and think. I'd love to know what you think, because...zzzzzz....