Rookie Hazing

Real Quick, Rookie "Hazing".
For it, or Agin' it?

I'm all for the version the Yankees indulged in.
New guy in the bullpen carries a pink backpack loaded with supplies: gum, chaw, seeds.
All rookies right at beginning of final road trip wear outlandish costumes [this year was Wizard of Oz]. No one is forced to participate, and it's all safe. Jeff Kent refused to participate as a rookie with the Mets, years ago, and revealed himself to be not a team player. This practice of rookie "hazing" builds camaraderie. It is a good thing.

Dangerous hazing that puts health and life at risk, I am not for. People being asked to drink until they die of alcohol poisoning is wrong. People being asked to lie down between lanes of traffic is wrong, and there are other examples.

Some people have lost friends and loved ones to dangerous hazing. For anyone who has suffered this loss, you have my heartfelt sympathy and my condolences.

Some readers at other sites have been rather vehement against the Yankees for the rookie "hazing" that occurs. These people are over-reacting. Baseball is a game of my team against your team, and there is a certain level of violence inherent. Collisions at home plate, a 90 MPH pitch coming in to the plate. Any winning team has some form of team-building. One wants to know and trust one's teammates. Ritualistic initiation, such as rookie "hazing" is a part of that. To say differently, to say that such things as rookie "hazing" or brushback pitches should be banned is indicative of a mind that truly does not understand baseball.

Norva AAR {Time before last}

April 15, 2007 - Sunday
Norfolk After Action Report [It's Long!!]
Current mood: happy
Category: Travel and Places

Norfolk. What can I say about the place except its highway system always screws me over? Got up Tuesday, hit the highway [going to the Naval Base, which is located in Norfolk], ended up on the way to freaking Hampton [as in, Hampton Roads!!]. Took me a couple of hours, late to the Weapons Effect Test team meeting…. krap!! What you gotta do is take I-64, not toward Norfolk but through Virginia Beach; it loops around and heads back toward the base [and, if you commute the bridge/tunnel, through Hampton!!] Better signs, that's what is called for, but ya gotta know, I was always getting lost back in '89 when we were at Little Creek, and it still happens. Also, Princess Anne Drive is everywhere. I swear, it must snake through the city and encircle it at the same time; do not, do not, do not use it as a reference. [Unless you like getting lost].

So, as I was driving through the city on Tuesday [thinking, Naval bases tend to be on the shoreline, so stick to the shore and eventually you will hit it], I glanced over to the left when something huge and gray, but not underway, caught my eye. Had a "64" painted on the bow….. USS WISCONSIN, BB-64. Sure is!!!! More on that later...

Wednesday, the gate guard girl wouldn't let me on base because my temporary vehicle pass was from another base [Pax River, duh….] I could not persuade her by telling her that other guards had let me onbase with it on Monday and Tuesday… so, I had to go to Pass and Tag. You go to the counter after waiting in line only to discover that there is a form you have to fill out, long form, naturally. This is bureaucracy at its finest, and while I was only mildly annoyed at the process, some people were actually seeting…. not what Max Weber had in mind when he invented bureaucracy… [look it up!!]

Lunch was pretty good, had a calzone at Sunrise Pizzeria. Real ricotta cheese and mozzarella, marinara sauce for dipping, and I substituted pepperoni for the normal ham filling. HUGE!!!! Good thing I ordered a small, as this thing was approximately the size of a loaf of bread. I was so full that I could not even eat dinner later [and that is sad, because I had planned on going to Joe's Crab Shack….]

Also ate at Federico's Italian over in Virginia Beach, a place I remembered from back then, and it was just the same [they say the décor is more salmon, but the only salmon I remember is on the menu, so I had some]. Salmon cigars, thin layers of salmon rolled up and dipped in batter, then rolled in coconut flakes and fried, served in a mango-chipotle salsa…. nice!! Nice salad, and then the special: fresh flounder in a clear, lemony sauce with capers and asparagus shoots, over steamed spinach. Great stuff, and not overly expensive… oh, and Moretti birra, honest Italian brew [it's the one with the guy who has a thick moustache, in a suit and fedora, enjoying a frosty mug, on the label. Classic….]

The Grate Steak is still there, on Military Highway…. what an awesome idea!!! You go to the refrigerator and select your steak. Then you go to the charcoal-fired grill [see where I am heading with this?] slather it with butter and whatever spices you enjoy, and slap it on the grill, all the while enjoying a cold draft…. potatoes and Texas Toast are available, too, with a potato bar having butter and sour cream, melted cheese and mushroom gravy and such…. guys love this place!!! Especially when it's cold outside, or rainy [and personally, I own a gas-fired grill. Really easy to start, but just not the same as charcoal…..] Some ladies present, however, were not overly impressed; of the opinion that if you have to pay, ya might as well have the restaurant prepare it…. probably why 2 of the 3 Grate Steak locations have recently closed…
{This comment has drawn some heat. The whiners did not elaborate, exceptto say that it bothered them. Good. Git yer bothered ass over and eat at Grate Steak. Let's keep the one remaining location in business!}


On to the ship…. xxxxxxx, that is. Big, big hull. Designers had foresight in that ramps are available to move airframes from down below wherever up to the flight deck [and, yes, plenty of ladders still, going down into the engineering spaces and such]. In short, with all the running around, I think I am about even on the calories [still gotta work on that 'chloresterol', though…. 'chloresterol'… I know, it's family humour ! ]

Down in Morehead City, a million degrees and a hunnerd percent humidity, I'll probably have difficulty keeping the weight on [unless my arteries clog first]. Do I love my job? Oh, yeah – great bunch of peeps, I get to be on Navy bases, and go aboard ships. Awesome, really is…..
now, back to Wisky [thought I'd forgotten her, did ye?] Sits, moored with anchor chain[!!] in a slip next to the Nauticus museum, which is pretty cool. Got done, heading home, had some time to kill, so I stopped by. Did not get lost first. The Navy was sponsoring the day, so the museum and the ship tour were free [not bad for Friday the 13th, eh?]. Spent a lot of time yakking with Jim Curtin, a docent at the museum and a thoroughly knowledgeable gentleman; turns out he is from the Morehead/Beaufort area. Good guy [for a Coastie ;-) ] Walked all around the ship, saw a re-enlistment and a retirement. Teak decks…trivia time: the plugs in the wood, where the teak has been bolted to the deck and the holes are plugged-up, those plugs are called Dutchmen [in honour of the story of the little Dutch dude who saw a leak in the dike around the Zuider Zee and plugged it by poking his finger in, undoubtedly]. More trivia – the Navy built 4 IOWA class battleships, but had 2 more in the works when the war ended. These two were cannibalized [the boilers and turbines in DETROIT and the other AOE-1's came from these battlewagons]. Wisky had been in collision at sea which had rather severely damaged the bow, so the bow off Ex-USS KENTUCKY [not sure if she would have been BB-65 or 66] was cut off and grafted on. Weird…

I have my own bit of trivia…. we were in Philly Shipyard drydock, back in late '93 on DETROIT. I was Opso, and one of my sailors wanted to re-enlist. Onboard WISCONSIN. We checked, and there was no guard; she was sitting over in Inac Ships…. can't remember the sailor's name, darn it. Anyway, I asked him if atop #2 16 inch turret would be okay, and he liked the idea, so we looked around [somewhat surreptitiously!], making sure nobody was going to accost us, and climbed up, having the ceremony at the top. Man, THAT was cool….. Anyway, nice gift shop with reasonable prices, cool goodies for my peeps {Confidential to Baron von Boyle, the ol' Pharmacist's Mate hisself….}

Hey, Matt – project ship ballcaps seem to be in rather short supply [so I am looking into having some stitched-up]. Meanwhile, I hope you will be content with a WISCONSIN BB-64 cap [now, send me yer address, so's I can Fedex it out, eh?]

Not bad, all in all, I considered the week quite a success. Gotta cruise down there again on Tuesday. Joe's driving [at least we won't get lost ;-)]
I'll keep ya posted.

Until then, I wish you a Fine Navy Day.
Chuck sends

Shipping Off to Boston?

Nope.
I'm shoving off for Norfolk, in the next 30 minutes or so. Gonna reconnoiter and secure housing. I'll fly back to StL and say my goodbyes, then drive the U-Haul towing Lil' Casper across. Gotta report for work on the 9th. I'll fill in those details when time permits.

Meanwhile, Dropkick Murphys are running around my brain and I can get 'em loose. I'm not shipping off to Boston, nor do I need to find my leg ;-)

Charleston, WV. Nice name. That's where I am staying tonight. I'll attempt to write, but no telling if they have even heard of the internet. Like I mentioned, I have the Blackberry which I can plug into the Laptop and use as a modem, but if there is no cell phone coverage....

Anyway, no worries :-) Go Yankees!

Bizzy!

Folks, it sure looks like time is elapsing in between posts - I just noticed my last actual POST [not response] was on Saturday.

Well, ya gotta forgive me on that account.
Ya see, I am in the process of moving to Norfolk, completing lots of forms for my new place of work, packing and moving stuff to storage, working on a safety program for one of my friends' business, and there just are not enough hours in the day.

Driving to Norfolk on Thursday to scout around and such, and who knows what the trons will be like while on the road. I have the Acer laptop and my Blackberry can tie in as a modem, so we should be covered, but if this site goes dark for a time, you'll know why :-)

All the best, Chuck

RenFest Notes

Renaissance Festival notes from last time. We talked Kelley and John into attending, and I am glad: going to the Ren Fest is good, but going with friends is so much better in the sharing of experiences [not to mention, witnesses to pass along the legendary stories] Lots of people in medieval clothing, many, many bustiers [thank you, Lord!] and lots of guys in kilts, too.
I chose the red, Wallace tartan with Corcoran jump boots and white Brother T-shirt and, of course, my Tampa Bay Buccaneers ball cap that Kev traded me long ago. On the way in, some sales guys wanted me to sign up for some drawing. I declined, but had a nice chat with one who had actually seen Brother, and liked them.

www.brothermusic.com if you like Scotsmen from Australia, living in California, playing bagpipes with guitar, bass, drums and that Aussie Outback shouting stick, the didgideroo.
Kel was shopping, so we didnt see them even though we were late. Got the program, saw that Pirate Shantyman and Bonnie Lass would be performing [at the pub!!] at 2 PM, so we moseyed over there, bought a couple of pints, and settled in behind the dude with a cigar and his lady friend [in medieval dress] who also had a stogie. Nice people, too. Shantyman this year has grown out his moustache a bit and has turned up the edges into a slight handlebar. Reminds me of Dog, the Bounty Hunter somewhat. Bonnie Lass is the same old gal, cute as a button. Fun people. They began by noticing I was wearing a kilt, and establishing the fact that they knew me from last year [I got them to promise that they would sing a kilt-related song, so that was good, and I dont mind getting teased. If I did, I would wear shorts like 99% of the male population]. As always, they taught us the Pirate Salute [and how to sign the letter R of course!!]. Forefinger and middle finger cross em, lift to your brow and snarl Rrrrr! Salute accomplished. Bonnie Lass [to dude in back] "Sir, the middle finger, extended, is not the Pirate Salute!" 1st song up was about beer, with an easy chorus, sing along!! [Beer, beer, beer, beer] Then, the clean song. One would sing a verse and as they approached the dirty part which rhymed, the other would push them out of the way, change the rhyming word, and begin another verse. Vaudevillian, and pretty fun. An example would be [Shantyman singing] that the captain was looking right through his glass when he noticed a mermaid sitting on her [Bonnie Lass, whacking the leer off his face with a worried look upon hers] fin! and proceeded to make another verse. Of course, they did the classic about the sleeping Scot, the two impertinent lassies, the blue ribbon, waking up to find that he had won first prize, and all that. Then, per my earlier request, they did Donald Wheres Your Trousers? which is perhaps my favourite song of theirs, and a memorable tune, to boot. Good guitar intro, live, and catchy its still in my head. Said goodbyes after, slipped the Lass a five for their troubles [I already have a copy of the fairybox which plays songs in the cd player] and got a nice hug. Good folks :-)

Back to touch-up at the blue line [I mean, see if Kelley and John had arrived and were waiting at the entrance.] No sign of them, Kel was still shopping, and neither Pixie or I carry a cellular [well, that was then, we both do, now], so back across the land, to see the Aerial Angels. Man, these are some talented, funny women. Stopped at the stone bridge as [either Spike or Kissy, they somewhat look similar] was in a gargoyle position on the bridge rail, not moving [doing the statue routine sign said please do not molest the statue] If you dropped money into the bowl, she would suddenly proclaim Huzzah! and change positions before getting statuary again [is that the proper usage of the word?]. Of course, that intrigued me, but the gay cardinal from Bawdy and Soul was seated next to her, and was trying to get us to give him money. Well, I knew that I would get to hang out with the Angels later [they had me up on stage last year, forming a performance art with three other guys where we all leaned back, forming a circle of sorts, resting out back on the knees of the guy behind us Spike went burrowing into the mix and came climbing out the center hole, shrieking Happy Birthday, Mister President..!! hahahahaha] so anyway, we heckled the cardinal somewhat, taking from his offering and bantering. Anyway, we put the offeratory notes back, and discovered that he was selling Get out of Hell Free cards.
Never know when that might come in handy, so I bought one. Get out of Hell Free, do not pass Go[d], go straight to Heaven..

Wandered around, made sure to get the huzzah! from the statue, stood and watched Isabella, leader of the Angels, do a fire-eating routine. Missed her last year at the fest; she is really witty and funny [she explains why she does the RenFest - $40,000 in student loans and a liberal arts degree! =:-0 ] and at one point has fire sitting on her lips before blowing it out. Wow! Anyway, about this time Kelley and John show up, with Boo [a min pin]. We're all happy, Kel has on a rather pretty, black renaissance-inspired wrap [which they had just purchased ;-) ], really a striking figure, when she chooses to be. She was worried about being the only person in themed garb... no worries!

Off to find water for Boo, and more beer. Decided to take the brew over and get some chow. None of the others is worth a crap at reading maps, so I figured out where we had to go, and noticed the jousting arena at the same time. Had some time, went for prime rib shredded on a bun [thats about the only faire food which wont pretty much kill ya], saw that free samples were promised by the guy in a kilt and wondered what trouble I could get into. None, but the guy in the [other] kilt sold sausages and jerky. I bought a one-pound sack of hot pickled sausages and thought I was going to have to do the Heimlich on Kelley, who made the near-fatal error of breathing while about to swallow a bite. John got a four foot mild smoked sausage, and it was good also :-) Back to the steak sandwiches: got one each for Pixie and myself, plus a tray of homemade potato chips, hot and soft; pretty good actually. I noticed what appeared to be the tip basket, and enquired of the lass, how was I to leave her a tip [the basket?] She replied that the tip goes into her bustier, next to her heart! =:-0 So, I gave her a bill and sure enough, there it went into the bustier. She confessed that she was saving up for a bigger basket!! hahahahaha

We saw the gay cardinal walking along with his homie [the abbot or some such rank of clergy] so I hollered Lets go, Cardinals! and of course, this prompted a silly wave. Anyway, off to shopping and the jousts.

We were sitting on the side of Edward, Lord of Warwick [the face, in red and blue]. We were designated to cheer for him, and him being an Ainglishman, I booed him instead. His opponent that the drunken rabble was allowed to cheer [obviously, we sat in the wrong section], clad in black and purple, was Malcolm [thats a Scots name] of Exeter, whose slogan is Cheat to Win! Viva la raza, baby, so I cheered him on, and he DID cheat. Nice antics. The crowd around us had a great time and enjoyed having a heel fan in their midst [when they were cheering Edward, I would holler Blood makes the grass grow!] or the old fave: [Crowd "Edward" followed by Chuck "Sucks"!] So, Eddie and goodness prevailed. As we left, it began to rain. Being the only one with foresight and 89 cents, I pulled a hooded poncho from my sporran and put it on. Everyone asked me where I got that, and I truthfully replied WalMart, for 89 cents.

Whats a sporran, you might ask? In laymans terms, a nut-sack. Really. Ever notice the purse-looking thing that a kilt-wearer wears hanging in front of Big Willie and the Twins? Thats called a sporran. Originally, it was body armor, but is now functional and decorative. Mine is a black leather pouch with three tassles, and is good for carrying wallet, poncho, and other useful stuff, like my new Get out of Hell free card ;-) So, off to purchase soap!! Really, got some nice herbal soaps including thistle [including the leaves but minus the thorns!! =:-0] and a nice raspberry peppermint for waking.

Lost my friends, they were in the pub, hanging out with gay cardinal and abbot. I forgot how the conversation got there, as we were joking around, but the cardinal was talking about how old he was, and I proudly announced that I was 47. We guessed cardinals age [well, being gallant, I guessed 29, Pixie guessed 33; gay cardinal is 42]. Pixie looks young for her age [just turned 52 on Friday] so I asked the cardinal to guess her age. He proceeded to kiss her [to be able to guess better] and proclaimed 41!! She admitted she was 52, which I think flustered the poor fellow a bit as he blurted out that she has a big set of boobs! Well, she does, ya know, so we were all just rolling by this point, as she announced that they were real, too. About this time, the cardinal asked Kelley how much she paid for hers. [we still dont know, but she did confirm what I already knew, that she in fact had implants]. Anyway, the mirth continued for a while until time to go so we hugged one another and departed. The abbot squeezed me bum in the process and asked if those were real, and I assured him that through diet and weight-lifting and what-not, yes, theyre real. [This was about the time the cardinal tried to use his crozier to peek up my kilt, so I pirouetted out of the way]. Hilarious fellows. Time to go, we drove off in our separate ways, Kelley and John had a blast and may come back in a couple of weeks with the grandkids [who need to get pirate do-rags, I can already guess. Works well for being biker kids, too. Kelley and John will most likely hate me 4 life after I get done corrupting the kiddies..]

hahahahadieu, until Pirate Fest! Arrrrr!

No Takers?

Initial thoughts regarding Barry Bonds and the Giants.

I understand that the San Francisco Giants have announced that they will not bring Barry Bonds back for 2008. Of course, this gins up the rumour mill, as baseball fans love nothing more [well, besides actually WATCHING baseball] than talking and speculating about baseball. And now, too, blogging about it :-)

Barry is not the player he used to be. His knees are pretty much gone for whatever the reason. He still has a good eye and discipline at the plate, but the power numbers are dwindling, he "clogs the basepaths" when he gets on, and he's atrocious in the field. Not to mention, a cancer in the clubhouse.

As far as the Yanks are concerned, they do not need him. Bombers are insisting that youth be served, and have already rid themselves of one aging slugger/clubhouse cancer/player under question of using illegal performance enhancers. Shed the Sheff, and better off for it. Notice what Detroit has accomplished since adding him?

Yanks already have Jason Giambi, who pretty much fits my description of Bonds above, although at times he comes up big at first base, and he's a good teammate. Salaries are such that they would not move Jason to get Barry. To move Jason, the Yanks would have to pick up a huge portion of his salary, and to replace him with a pretty much identical player, older, with a far worse attitude would not only not make sense, but would be damaging to the franchise.

I do not like Barry Bonds. I have always been skeptical of kids of stars, although I have been getting better about it. I think I did not care for how folks raved about Pete Rose's son, who frankly was not that good a ballplayer. That, and the fact that Bonds came up with Pittsburgh and I liked Atlanta, well, I started off not liking Bonds. I'm not going to list lowlights here - Google it if ya like, but as far as I am concerned, Barry is an arrogant, egotistical jerk. I've forgiven Jason Giambi for the performance enhancing thing. Jason apologized, and he's a likeable fellow. And no, it's not a racial thing. I cheered on Henry Aaron and Willie McCovey. I boo Barry Bonds. I respect Hank and Willie.

So, what team will ante up and go after Barry Bonds? A good question, and a good indication that times are indeed changing. I project that some team will be desperate enough to wave money at Bonds. Contrast that with 1987. Coming off a year in which he hit 35 dingers with 97 ribbies, Dave Kingman found himself cast adrift by Oakland and no other team came a-calling. 35/97 in one's last year HAS to be some sort of record. Of course, Big Dave also hit .210 with only 33 walks that year. I forget who described what to do with Kong that year, but it involved giving him a free boat, a tank of gas, and a map of the Bermuda Triangle. I think Barry is bad for baseball, and I hope that is what he is offered. I suspect the offer will be far more lucrative for him.

Un Excess du Boeuf [Warning - Language!]

I just noticed that I haven't posted today! =:-0 I've been meaning to transfer some older posts from elsewhere to here, so here's a classic. Well, I think so, anyway.

P.S. Oh, someone [having read 'Billy sez' opined that there were too many curse words. In that case, beware of this post ;-)

P.P.S. Oh, and yes, I was mad at Pix when I wrote this. We're way past all that and each are now forgiven :-)

May 16, 2006 - Tuesday
Un excess du boeuf, or, a stream of conciousness regarding beef.
Current mood: full
I am satiated with beef. Why? Well, I am not a vegetarian, for beginners... tried one one time, and while she was tasty, just not filling. Once, in the 17th century, a French Field Marshal expired in the sack, with two women. On his death certificate was listed the cause of death: "un excess du femme"... oh, yeah.... laissez le bon temps rouler and on mine let it be written, "Un excess du le boeuf". Not that I have a death wish, mind you, but beef, beef, beef.

Once upon a time [no, that would make it a fairy tale].... "Now, this is a real no-shitter" [yep, THAT makes it a sea story] There were three sailors: a deck seaman, an Admiral, and a Chief Petty Officer, who were captured by the enemy. The bad guys informed them that soon, they would be executed, but having some semblance of a conscience, each would be granted one last wish. The seaman, being an ordinary Joe, opined that he would love to have a steak, medium rare, with a tall draft beer one last time before he left this plane of existence. The admiral, he wanted one last opportunity to make a speech..... Finally, the Chief Petty Officer, fearless and larger than life, roared out "Fuck n A, Bubba! I don't need nothin', but just shoot me before the admiral starts speakin'!"

Okay, okay, it dinna have much ado aboot boeuf, but a steak WAS mentioned, so it's fair game.... I went to Texas Roadhouse for dinner tonight. What's the big deal, you ask? Tuesday night, Pixie school night, which makes me a free agent for whatever I feel like doing to entertain myself. For some reason, a steak loomed large in my consciousness.... okay, okay, there's some history there.

You see, last Thursday we went out to dinner with Mike, the corporate guy. Army guy, nurse [not gay either], a solid individual who I think highly of. My altar ego, Kelley the drukken blond[e] chick - ask me aboot Broadway Oyster Bar and Crusty the Crustacean some time - and her signifother, John, were there, and so was Andrea, my Pixie. Dinner at Trailhead Brewery in Saint Charles. None of these fuckers had beer, which was brewed on the premises [it's good beer, really!].

Anyway, I was in the middle of ordering a Prime Rib, but the largest they had was 18 ounces. Throw it back until it grows a bit.... I've consumed 32 ounce PR's before, and of such a high quality, they don't even make you full. Derek, Kev, think San Diego, Roberto di Filippi's Butcher Shop up in Kearny Mesa, MIke Tyson fighting on the tube, waitresses seven foot tall with 48" legs, ensconsed in hip-hugging micro-minis, Tommy Lasorda a table or two over, bleeding Dodger Blue.... man, it doesn't get any better than this.... but I digress; I was negotiating with the waiter to try and get a larger prime rib that they proffered 18 ouncer. Hey - they have only to slice off a larger portion, no big deal, eh? Well, the dude had shit for brains or something, and just wasn't getting the gist of my request [I wasn't drunk or anything, either, yet]. So, Andrea in all of her mothering mode, chimed in and said "You don't need that much", so the motherfucking waiter high-tailed it. Well, [1] I didn't get the size of prime rib I wanted, [1b] when the 18 ouncer DID come out, it was layered in fat so that I got effectively a 12 ounce PR, and [2] it publicly humiliated me [sure, she later apologized and said that it was not right].

Learning point: when in doubt, "Shut the Fuck Up". If you are not absolutely sure, "Shut the Fuck Up". If you are about to offer unrequested advice, "Shut the Fuck Up". Finally, if what you are about to say will carry the equivalent weight as pouring a glass of ice water on my or anyone else's wee wee, you guessed it, "Shut the Fuck Up."

Now, back to the story. I went to Tejas Roadhouse, gonna get myself a steak... down to the Tejas Roadhouse, gonna get myself a steak....lawd have mercy I'm gonna get me some, the biggest I can break.... [sorry, got carried away by the blues; now back to our regularly scheduled programming]. The gal who seated me seemed to know me. I knew her not. She asked me why I had not been in, in some time, and I said, thinking I was caught [no, I owed her no monies, no young'n's a due/D&K that might sound familiar, but no relation was she, to you.....] Dustin was my waiter. Big Dust! He knew they had bigger prime ribs than advertised, so we negotiated a 22 ouncer, with seizure salad, and mashed taters [in white graby]. Lots of hot, sweet rolls and soft butter. A 22 ounce [notice the theme?] draft O'Fallon Gold, and another. Medium rare - sldes right down. No time for sergeants, and no room for dessert.

Rick [but it might have been Dave] the store manager, stopped by. Great guy, he asked me how things were in Wichita. Not wearing the mask with the "W" emblazoned thereupon, Amelia, and wondering how the fuck he knew I was born there, I played it cool. He was reacting to my Lear shirt, thinking it stood for LearJet. Nope, we build car seats. Nice conversation anyhow, and I made sure to tell him how much I appreciated his place. Mexico Road, across from Hoe Depot, Go there - you won't be disappointed [unless yer a vegan!].

Damned if I can remember the moral of the story, but "Let the man eat his steak". Amen. And now, a little grace... anyone parlez vous Francaise, oui? "Lache pa la potat" [Don't drop the potato].

BT, AR [PS - I'm not drunk or in any mind-altered state, other than jammed full of raw cow. Word. Out] ;-)

Pirates?

I forgot yesterday was International Talk Like A Pirate Day... Right after reading about it the day prior. [Naturally, being a mariner, I can actually talk like this and know what it means ;-)] I am almost tempted to make a Pittsburgh reference here [Pittsburgh Pirates, right?] but I am bigger than that. They were right, anyway, I have an arm weaker than Johnny Damon, and can't hit the slider. =:-0

Here in Saint Louis, we have a Pirate Festival every year. http://stlpiratefest.com/
It's going on now, weekends through October. I went last year, might not get a chance to this year due to packing and moving :-( Pity, though - I wear Pirate Garb when I go [really!!]

Here's my gear:
Felt tricorn [black] pirate hat with several ostrich feathers.
Black long sleeved shirt with drawstring closure at neck, ruffles at neck and sleeves.
Black denim kilt!!! [Aye!] with chrome snaps and black sporran [that's kind-of a man purse, originally designed as strategic frontal armor]. Brand is Amerikilt. Check 'em out at http://www.amerikilt.com/ good product and good guys :-)
Red sash to tie around waist where shirt and kilt come together, long enough to have one end dangle in accepted pirate fashion.
Black Corcoran boots [favored by paratroopers since they began jumping out of planes].
http://www.corcoranandmatterhorn.com/ That's right, another link!
Black soccer sox which I tend to roll down from the knee to an acceptable length a bit above the boot top. Sadly, no photos of this ensemble exist :-( If I manage to go this year, I will endeavour to get pics.

Wonder if they have pirate fests out east? No, not in Pittsburgh - in Norfolk, where I am relocating to. Arrrr, savvy?

The Power of Twenty-Nine

Maybe this is all coincidental, but let's look at what good things have happened for our Yankees, with a span of 29 years in between.

January 5th, 1920. Babe Ruth is sold from the Red Sox to the Yankees.
Well, THAT is an awesome beginning for $100k plus a loan, guaranteed by a lien on Fenway Park :-) Yanks finished third to Cleveland, who went on to beat Brooklyn in the World Series. The Yanks would win the pennant the following three years, capped by the WS title in 1923.

1949. Coming into the last weekend of the season, the Red Sox are 1 game ahead of the Yankees, with the only games left for those teams being 2 against each other, thus there can be no playoff for the AL pennant. The Red Sox need to win only 1 of those games, but the Yankees win both to take the pennant.
This had been a real scrap with the Yanks ahead going into September. Boston had won some hotly contested games to pull ahead in the standings and had the lead going into the final weekend, but the Bombers won two and that was that. [Then, they defeated the Dodgers in the World Series]

1978. September 7 - The "Boston Massacre" begins. The Boston Red Sox enter today's opening game of a four game series in Boston with a four game lead over the New York Yankees; a lead which had been fourteen games just weeks earlier. The Yankees defeat the Red Sox 15-3, and go on to sweep the series, erasing the Red Sox lead in the American League East Division. October 2 - Bucky Dent's crucial 7th-inning home run helps the New York Yankees beat the Boston Red Sox 5-4 in a 1-game playoff for the American League East title.
I remember this one, and it WAS good. Fresh enough in our collective consciousness that there are even video highlights available.


2007.
You guessed it - 29 years later....

Yeah, it's Cryptic

These words are by Robert Johnson, recorded in Dallas on June 20, 1937. Yanks won it all in 1937, over the Giants, and The Jolter had a pretty good year, flirting with .400 before an eye injury kept him from seeing the ball well; he slumped down to .380. You can guess what I mean by putting this all in context; whatever you come up with is fine by me.

"I got to keep movin',
I've got to keep movin'
Blues fallin' down like hail,
blues fallin' down like hail

Umm mmm mmm mmm
Blues fallin' down like hail,
blues fallin' down like hail

And the days keeps on worryin' me,
and the days keeps on worryin' me,
hellhound on my trail,
hellhound on my trail."

I had a thesis, whereupon if the Yankees swept Boston in last weekend's series at Fenway, then this devastating blow to the Red Sox' psyche would result in the Boston club collapsing like a deck of cards, possibly crashing and burning out of the playoffs. Yanks started off well, coming back from a huge deficit on Friday night to edge the Sox. Saturday was the payback for travel day, and the Yanks were swamped. Finally, Sunday night saw the Yanks hold on by their fingerprints to edge Boston. 2 out of 3 is good, but no sweep. So, I figured all was well in the Red Sox Nation.

Perhaps I was mistaken. Youkilis remains riding the pine, a victim of a CM Wang pitch that rode in as he crowded the plate. Coco Crisp sat out tonight with stiffness. Manny Ramirez should be back from injured obliques on the morrow; alas, his head is not right and the verdict is unclear. Terry Francona has used up his Japanese imports who looked so stellar to begin the year. Suddenly, Jon Papelbon is mortal, and Eric Gagne is just a shell of his former self. While the Yanks have taken two from the suddenly-sleepwalking Orioles, Boston has dropped two to Toronto. Tomorrow, Clay Buchholz goes with only a few innings remaining in his 2007 innings cap. Will he pitch only to the limit, or will Francona panic and gamble the future for a tenuous today?

What drama has imbued our consciousness! I watched the Yankees game on MLB.tv/YES 9 and followed the Red Sox and Tigers games on Gameday. I have long since had no fingernails, and my cuticles bleed continuously. This is why we watch, this is Pennant Fever. Catch it!

There's a growing sense of euphoria in Yankee-dom, and to all those who were steadfast in their grim determination, hold the line, I say: We're still in this. We can do it. We can win the division, the pennant, and the series. To all of the nervous nellies, naysayers and bandwaggoners I say, be off with ye. Shades of impending collapse in May doomed ye to the oblivion of forsaking your team - they shall not pass [on to credibility]. You were not here for the team when the chips were down, no need for you to be around now. There's something in the air now, something a-brewing [Abreau-ing?]. A New Dynasty is afoot, as prophesied by our own Queen of Optimism and Squirrels. This is exciting stuff, the pennant race, the playoffs and series, the hot stove league, spring training. This is baseball, and all is again well in our world.

There's a growing melancholy in the Red Sox Nation, blasting Eric Gagne for no longer being himself, blasting Manny Ramirez for still being himself, and blasting Terry Francona for being the skipper of a sinking ship. Bostonians, did you enjoy talking trash when the Yankees fortunes ebbed? Is it uncomfortable, as though one's shoes are too tight, or perhaps similar to one's underwear twisting around, now that things have gotten edgy? Nothing personal, no gloating here; just asking.

Weirdly, the Mets seem on the verge of total collapse. I hate to say it, because I have cheered the Mets for longer than most loyal readers have been alive [from the '69 Series, where I first learned to hate the Orioles]. I have heard a few non-attributable remarks from players; sadly, it appears Willie Randolph has lost the team. I always DID like Willie.

Now, loyal readers [loyal reader?], what to do? If you cheer the Yankees, imbue yourself with a feeling of optimism. We're still alive. We can do this! If you cheer the Red Sox, chin up! It's 2007, not 1949 or 1964 or 1978. If you don't know about this baseball thing, e-mail me and we will begin our studies at the Holy Temple, The Stadium of Stadia, The House That Ruth Built. George Herman Ruth, The Babe, The Sultan of Swat, The Bambino. Hallelujah. Amen.

Optimism. The Power of the Squirrel. Go Yankees.

Yikes!!

Yikes!! I've managed to miss a couple of days from posting :-( Guess I got caught up in reading everyone else's nice blogs :-)

Anyway, after the exhausted Yanks got pummeled on Saturday by Boston, they won a real nail-biter on Sunday [I'm bleeding from several cuticles!]. Monday was a nice day as well with the Bombers holding on to down Baltimore while both the Tigers and the Red Sox were defeated. Bostonians say they are not overly concerned, but I think that maybe they are. Curiously, the blogs on the NY Post have been silent. Go figure.

Winding down the days here in Missouri, getting ready to head out to the coast. Still haven't finalized the logistics, so that leaves me with a sense of unease [I hate flying by the seat of my pants and much prefer having a plan]. Report date is October 9th, so still some time to work it.

Tonight Moose is on the hill for the Yanks, and I hope that what he learned and brought to his last appearance, he is able to translate into tonight's work. I'm optimistic!! Nice to see Gojiru homer last night, still appears to be 'stepping into the bucket' a bit though. The debate about Krazy Kyle and Bruney. Amazing. I'd say wasting time on such a debate is about as useful as debating chastity in a cathouse. Gosh, I sure hope the Great Rodriguez gets hot again. Now would be an excellent time....

Gators Chomp Tennessee

We've got a battering ram for a quarterback, and cheetahs at wide receiver. Some moments of concern, but in the end, the overall team speed and a surprisingly good defense led #5 Florida into blowing past and blowing away the former #22 team, Tennessee.

In Gainesville, Head Coach Urban Meyer asked fans to only wear blue, and to forego the customary companion orange [the Volunteers' primary colour], and while it may have made no impact, it certainly did not hurt matters any for the Gators. Tim Tebow, Percy Harvin, and Brandon James amassed over 600 all-purpose yards between them, leading the national champion Gators past Tennessee by the score of 59-20.

Eleven times in the previous fourteen years, the winner of this contest has gone on to capture the Southeastern Conference East Division crown, and none of those games had a score so lopsided as this one. Tennessee defeated Florida 45-3 in Steve Spurrier's first year at the helm, and he made them pay regularly for the affront. In three seasons at UF, Meyer has never been defeated by Tennessee. The Gators are now 3-0 overall and 1-0 in conference play, and have stretched their overall winning streak to ten games. The winning streak in The Swamp [Ben Hill Griffin Stadium at Florida Field] stands at 18 games.

As evidenced by the "Blue-out" asked for by the Urban Legend, Meyer treats rivalry games differently from normal games. In one instance, he placed rival team logos in team urinals during the week of the big rivalry game. In three years, his team is undefeated against Georgia, Tennessee, and Florida State. Perhaps he needn't have worried: "Certainly this wasn't the representation that we intended it to be down here," Tennessee coach Phillip Fulmer said. By the final whistle, highways were filled with Volunteer fans, who voluntarily left the stadium early, perhaps to beat the traffic. There is no indication whether Tennessee fan Kenny Chesney, who grew up in Knoxville and in addition is a big fan of the Boston Red Sox, gave up on his team or stayed until the bitter end.

Tim Tebow threw for 299 yards and two scoring strikes. The big lefty also bruised his way for 61 yards on the ground, and battered the ball across the touch line twice more. Harvin caught balls for 120 yards, including one miracle play where he batted the severly underthrown strike from Tebow away from the cornerback, but it bounced off his glove into his chest as he fell to the ground for a big gainer. James finished with 203 all-purpose yards, including 83 on one punt return. All three of these baby Gators are sophomores.

The Gator defense, which lost all four starters on the line and three linebackers as well, held the Volunteers to under 50 yards on the ground, and quarterback Eric Ainge was unable to counter through the air. In the end, the Gators proved to be unstoppable, and even their few mistakes were not enough to keep them from victory.

Happy Friday the 14th!!

Yanks coulda won last night. Maybe even shoulda won. Stellar performance from young Ian Kennedy, who has been really impressive, mixing speeds, hitting his spots, and having more maturity than anyone ever could have hoped for.

Melky Cabrera ran into the wall while chasing down a Frank Thomas double. The Rogers Centre field is one of those plastic abominations that kills players' knees, and there is no real warning track. On most fields, the grass ends several feet before the fence, and this gap is covered with cinder clay, like the old running tracks. At Rogers, it is merely a different colour of turf. On a real grass field, Melky mighta made the catch.

Johnny D homered, and it woulda been 1 zip. Going into the ninth, we woulda used Mariano Rivera, who prolly woulda nailed it shut. Yanks win, 1-0.

Instead, we brought in Chris Britton. Folks have been clamouring for "Great" Britton, and he managed to lose very quickly. "Five Easy Pitches" but not starring Jack Nicholson. I just don't see what everyone saw in Britton, exempting perhaps their dinners. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, however: maybe he was flat from not having pitched for so long. I sure hope he holds up his end of the bargain.

Tough loss, but we are fine, mentally.
Get those brooms ready, boys, tonight we're off to the Big Green Sardine Can.
Go Yankees!

Billy Says....

Remember what Billy Joel said? It's all rock n' rool to me.

Why is everybody getting so patronizing? Seems like the music wars always flare up, somebody says something sucks, but the targeted person retorts that something else sucks. Leave it be..... it's about MUSIC, you motherfuckers, music!!! I don't give a fuck what you listen to [well, if it's good, and you enjoy it, tell me about it. What do you like, and why.... I'm open-minded. I might even buy a cd. Just ask Mallory or Jim F'n Rhoads] All of this Rap Sucks, Death to Metal, et cetera - who gives a fuck? Are you morons so perfect that you can run my life in addition to your own? No, of course not - you are pissing away your futures; thank you, but I can manage at least that, on my own. It's about the MUSIC, for Chrissakes!!! Music, that which soothes the savage breast!! Look, if we would just stick to the music, we'd all be content. Know what causes the stress and disagreement? We get to talking about it, and we reveal to all just what patronizing, racist, intolerant bastards we are. Talking. THAT's what got us kicked out of Eden. Here's what I like [but it's only what I can think up on a moment's notice, right?] Listen to The Beatles. Really, really listen to the chord changes, the overlapping melodies and arpeggios. Listen to the lyrics. Listen to The Yardbirds. Recognize some of the chops from what you listen to? I thought so..... Take a night, invest in a tank of ga$, get ya some Cajun Chow, and catch Brian Curran with Folk'n'Bluesgrass at Broadway Oyster Bar. It's a cheesy lil' dive, but the food is good, the setting is intimate, and Brian and the boys are a lot of fun. Picking - you can hear individual notes, and a lot of eclectic stuff that maybe you had forgotten about. Hank, Senior. Mississippi John Hurt. Johnny Cash. Leadbelly. Just because music is old, doesn't mean it's not listenable. Go see Hudson and the Hoo Doo Cats. Rockabilly, rock, blues. Fun, fun stuff...... take my recommendation. Don't worry about what other people will think. Go and enjoy. Or not. No worries if you really don't dig that sort of thing. Hey, remember what Joe Strummer said? You have the right to free speech, as long as you're not dumb enough to actually try it. Well, guess what. I'm talking, THAT's what I got to say ;-) Enjoy it. Here's my point. No one cares if you think it sucks. Go enjoy what you DO like, and peace be with you. I'm going to go running. I do it old-style, no pods or sound sources. Blondie will be on the list, from my new $3.99 Live album [thank you, M] and who knows what else. Happy Thursday, you lucky bastards. Chuck sends BT AR

Ringlets

Gosh, I wish I could tell you that I wrote this about someone, but alas, I did not.

Ringlets of coppery hair cascade
around deep, pastel eyes -
a window to the soul
from the very bond we made
and I sit, spellbound;
Lost within the attraction...
Heeding naught time, which flies
As I scarcely register its toll
or debts waiting to be paid;
Sweet, sweet satisfaction!
Memorie sears my mind
crying, sometimes kind.

Enter Scarecrow?

Had a question asking if Tyler Clippard should be considered as a future closer. Here's my dos centavos:

Clip's an enigma. Looks like a scarecrow or some malnourished soul; in fact, he is 6 foot 4 and over 200 pounds. Despite his size, he lacks a blazing fastball. Mainly hits low 90's, I think he has been able to reach back and hit 94 but not on a consistent basis. Good curveball [learned from Nardi Contreras] and changeup which is difficult to time, can throw a slider from time to time. I can see him as a swingman or middle-rotation starter, but [personal preference here] since he lacks the ol' hummer, not as a closer. Ty got a pretty short shrift this year, and here's the thing: he's a finesse pitcher. They take longer to adapt when going to a new league. The local fans and media just about ran him out of town on a rail [except compared to Matt DeSalvo or Chase Wright]. Case in point - last night, Phil Hughes was rocky through two. Folks on a real-time blog that I frequent advocated pulling him out. He settled down, and ended up going six, allowing one earned run. And they say Mr. Torre burns out bullpens!! Anyway, let's see how Spring Training proceeds. I'm not counting on Clemens. If Moose is cooked and Andy doesn't come back, we're going to need all the help we can get. Tyler Clippard might be some of that help [and if we have plenty of starters, he might stick, in the BP]. That's my assessment :-)

Impressions of Yanks-Jays, 9/11

It was a rollicking game, to say the least!!

Phil Phranchise was shaky to begin with - had three walks in the first two innings alone. He managed to wriggle off the hook in the first. Two men got on in the second, but Melky gunned down a guy at third [on a force out!!!! Fielder's choice!! I still am amazed over that]. Then, Johnny D made a running, leaping fully stretched-out catch in left. Next play, Melky almost doubled a guy off second, but threw too hard and the ball went into the dugout. Two runs in during the inning.

Phil settled down after Gator came out to counsel him [we think it involved having him push off the rubber using his legs better]. He ended up going six, giving up those three walks but only striking out one! I felt his velocity was up a little over the last two games, and I saw some good movement [although watching TSN it was hard to tell!] Only one unearned run over those six.

Jorgie had scored from third on a passed ball and later added a solo HR, Yanks were up 4-2 and loaded the bases when Jason Giambi blasted one out to LCF. Man, it was great!! Hope he's back, as he had been dreadfully cold prior.

Edwar pitched the 7th and 8th, and had a totally effective changeup. Good, good stuff.

Ross Ohlendorf came in and made his big league debut. He was hitting 95, 96 on the gun and had good movement, too. Location wasn't perfect but he was probably a bit nervous or excited [although he looked calm].

Three rookies did all of our pitching!! Well-done, too :-)

Matsui is painful to watch right now - he is "stepping in the bucket" horribly and I think it is because of the knees. Maybe Joe should rest him for a couple of games; I don't feel it is a timing or feel issue, but a physical one.

Shelley Duncan has gone back to NY to be looked at, possible sports hernia from the hard slide the other night. I'd suggest Jason to DH, Betemit to start at 1B with Minky in late for D, unless against a lefty [I'd start Minky as Bet just can't hit from the right side of the plate].

BTW, no home runs for Alex, although he DID manage TWO infield singles....weird!!!

Moose goes tonight, and even he has no idea how it will go, although he says his arm feels good. Joel Sherman of the Post will be on WCBS with John Sterling as Suzy Waldman has the night off.
Postscript. One more thing: we got nine runs on eleven hits on 9/11.....

Alexander the Great

I've been impressed with A-Rod's workout, Clemens' too, and how Mo has worked with Luis Vizcaino. In this excerpt, PeteAbe shares some insight on A-Rod and EyeChart's offseason regimen.

Seeds of A-Rod's monster season for Yankees were sown in winter workouts
By PETER ABRAHAMTHE JOURNAL NEWS
(Original publication: September 11, 2007)
TORONTO - The first text message would arrive at 5:15 a.m., the phone nearly vibrating off a bedside table as Doug Mientkiewicz tried to sleep at his home in Coral Gables, Fla., last winter.
"What are you doing?"
It was Alex Rodriguez, prodding Mientkiewicz to come work out with him at the University of Miami.
"Meet me at the field."
Mientkiewicz is not opposed to getting up early when it means a day of deep-sea fishing or playing with his 2-year-old son. But taking grounders as the sun comes up?
"I knew this winter he was a man on a mission," said Mientkiewicz, who played his senior season of high school with Rodriguez and joined him again this year with the Yankees. "He always works hard, but this time he had a scowl on his face. He wanted to prove a lot of people wrong, and I think he's doing that."
Rodriguez was named the American League player of the week yesterday after hitting seven home runs in seven games. It is the precursor to what surely will be his third American League MVP award in five years. Rodriguez is hitting .318 with 52 home runs, 140 RBI and 132 runs scored.
"The game is not that easy," Mientkiewicz said. "It's not normal what he's doing."
The seeds of a special season were sown on those winter mornings when Rodriguez would unlock the gates at Alex Rodriguez Park, the $4 million facility he donated to Miami five years ago.
"Alex literally has the keys to the place," Hurricanes baseball coach Jim Morris said. "In the winter, he's usually out there before anybody else shows up."
Rodriguez was driven by what he considered a sub-par 2006 season that was punctuated by going 1 for 14 with no RBI in a four-game loss against Detroit in the first round of the playoffs.
"We all talked after Game 4 in Detroit. I pretty much knew I had a checklist of things to do, and I went to work on them right away," he said.
According to Mientkiewicz, Rodriguez is motivated more by failure than success.
"He remembers a lot and he remembers the feeling he had last year," the first baseman said. "He pushes himself so hard to do this. I think if you ask him, this is what he envisioned."
The Yankees have 19 games remaining starting tonight in Toronto. Rodriguez has a chance to break the American League record of 61 home runs by Roger Maris in 1961. He also could become the first Yankee to drive in 150 runs since Joe DiMaggio had 155 in 1948.
The last Yankee to score to 140 runs was Rickey Henderson, who had 146 in 1985. Before that you have to go back to DiMaggio, who scored 151 times in 1937.
Rodriguez could join Jimmie Foxx, Babe Ruth, Sammy Sosa and Hack Wilson as the only players in history to hit .320 with 55 homers, 145 RBI and 140 runs scored.
Other than Sosa - whose accomplishments are blemished by the suspicion of steroids use - there hasn't been such a season since 1932.
For Rodriguez, runs scored and RBI are the statistics he finds most meaningful.
"That's what helps you win," he said. "You need runs to win. I heard Hank Aaron say that once and I always remembered that."
This week will be a challenge. Rodriguez has hit only .243 with one home run in 10 games against Toronto this season. The Yankees then travel to Boston and are scheduled to face Daisuke Matsuzaka, Josh Beckett and Curt Schilling.
"It's easier to get up for those games because those are two good teams that give us trouble," Rodriguez said.
Mientkiewicz and Rodriguez had dinner in Kansas City last week, and already there was talk of when they would start working out once the season was over.
"He's talking about not taking any time off," Mientkiewicz said. "No matter how far we go, he wants to start up the next week. He never stops trying to get better, and that's what makes him great."

September Eleven

Today is September 11th. I remember 9/11/2001 - my office was in the middle of the employee cafeteria at the now-defunct Lear Auburn Hills Plant. The TV was on from break time, and we watched as at first we remembered the Empire State Building incident, where right after WWII an Air Corps bomber [was it a B-24 Liberator? I don't remember] flew into the ESB. When the second airliner flew into the Trade Center, we knew it was no accident.
This incident is symptomatic of the terrorism threat which had already been going on, and continues to this day. I spent my youth worried about the Red Scare, and we outspent those guys, who [whether officially or with a wink, wink] have now discovered the joys of capitalism. I am proud to be an American. We have the mostest, and we should not be afraid to share. If someone is starving, feed them. If someone suffers from a despot, free them. We have the capability, why not the responsibility? Makes us a target, I know, but isn't that our burden to bear? It'll be a long and difficult struggle, this fight against terrorism. Six years ago I knew this. My question then is my question now: does America have the stomach for it? Look around, listen. We do not, not yet. We will, for the terrorists will not give up easily [that's what they do]. Essentially, we are facing Fourth Generation Warfare [the crumbling of the state and the effect of non-state elements; gangs, terrs, social upheaval]. My newest question: how much will it take for us to find our resolve? What has to happen to bring us to our senses? September 11th - never forget. Proud to be an American. Let's roll.

A.L. Player of the Week: Alexander Emmanuel Rodriguez

Here's a press release from MLB:

"New York Yankees third baseman Alex Rodriguez has been named the Bank of America Presents the American League Player of the Week for the period ending September 9th, marking the third time he has received weekly honors this season (previous: 4/9 and 6/11) and the 13th of his career.
In six games, Rodriguez posted a .565 batting average (13-23) with seven home runs, 11 RBI and nine runs scored. The 11-time A.L. All-Star finished the week with a 1.478 slugging percentage and a .630 on-base percentage. A-Rod homered in five consecutive games, tying a career-high, and has hit seven round-trippers in the last five games.
During a three-game series against the Seattle Mariners from September 3rd-5th, he went 6-for-11 with three home runs and five RBI. Over the weekend in Kansas City, Alex went 9-for-12 with four home runs and six RBI. He leads the Major Leagues in home runs (52), RBI (140) and runs scored (132) to go along with a .318 batting average.
Other players considered were Rodriguez’s teammate Jorge Posada (.500, 1.056 SLG, 1 2B, 3 HR, 6 RBI); Tampa Bay’s Carlos Peña (.368, 1.000 SLG, 4 HR, 10 RBI); and Detroit’s Brandon Inge (.474, .842 SLG, 1 2B, 2 HR, 5 RBI). Cleveland’s C.C. Sabathia (2-0, 0.53 ERA, 9 SO, 17.0 IP), Tampa Bay’s James Shields (2-0, 1.93 ERA 11 SO, 14.0 IP), Boston teammates Josh Beckett (2-0, 3.00 ERA, 15.0 IP, 15 SO) and Jonathan Papelbon (4 G, 4 Sv, 7 SO), and New York’s Chien-Ming Wang (2-0, 2.51 ERA, 14.1 IP) were the pitchers nominated.
Tourneau, the world’s largest watch store, will supply Alex Rodriguez with a luxury Swiss Tourneau timepiece, suitably engraved, in recognition of his achievement as player of the week."

Peter Abraham of the Journal News [PeteAbe's LoHud Yankees blog] has this to say:

"He gets a free watch? Seriously? Just what he needs, a free watch. You would think they’d donate money to a charity or throw it out the window before they gave a player a free watch. Hilarious."

Gotta admit I was howling when I read that. Of course, the watch is engraved and suitable for mounting/framing, but sometimes Pete just cracks me up.

Great Drama

We all know by now that Roger Clemens has has the cortisone shot in his ailing elbow and that, mysteriously, he has been out of contact with the Yankees for a while. We also know that Clemens sees himself as baseball's equivalent of John Wayne, gunning down outlaws afore riding off into the sunset once again.

With that flair for the dramatic, it could possibly be that he is merely increasing the drama, increasing the interest building up before his next scheduled start, in Boston against Curt Schilling. Heated rivalry, hated rivals. Battle of aging warriors, one again strapping on the armour and armament with wchich to conduct battle, once more unto the breach.... what great drama this is!!

Then again, some say that Roger changed his arm slot in order to gain more velocity at the expense of a flatter breaking ball, and that with now-decreased velocity and a newly-flat bender, he is out of luck and out of gas.

Still others will tell you that he described the feeling of the arm injury as being eerily similar to the verbiage used by one Carl Pavano to describe his own arm injury, and that the injured hinge may require surgery; in short, Clemens may well be finished for the year, and his career possibly over. If this is indeed the circumstance, Rocket may be too upset to talk about it, needing more time to control his emotions.

One more thought - people have been criticising Clemens for not being in contact with the Yankees, but I am not so sure about this concept. You see, Joe Torre says that he e-mailed Roger, who never e-mailed him back. We all know Mister Torre would not be untruthful, but what about someone else in Clemens' camp being in contact. Hello, telephone! [too]. Just a thought.

The Crash

Here's a blast from the past. I'll try to dig up old stories I have written and post them here as a witness to my general mental condition, and if I don't, remind me, eh?


The Crash, October 2001 Current mood: nostalgic
Ah, yes the crash.
Back on October 3rd, I was riding my mountain bike out in the trails a couple of miles north of my house. I was coming back on the bike path [asphalt] and crossed the island in the entrance to Canterbury Village. Coming up the far side, my front wheel flew off.
This catapulted me face-first into the asphalt [with such pace that I didnt have time to release the handlebars my knuckles got all skinned up!] resulting in a broken nose, road rash everywhere, and ten stitches in my upper lip where it tried to pull off. My helmet has a dinner-plate sized crush area, without it I would have broken my skull! My glasses right lens is completely brushed as though by 16-grade sandpaper [like anodized!] Metal fatigue appears to have been the culprit, as the front spindle is warped at a crazy angle I put the bike, wheel, and helmet safely into the parking lot there after making sure I had no broken appendages [shoulders both felt like my elbows did when I broke them, years ago] and no concussion,
and walked home. A guy stopped to give me a ride, but I was almost home and wanted to cut through the woods so that the neighbors wouldnt see, so I declined. I showered and put on Band-Aids, and called my buddy, Pete, to give me a ride to the hospital. The hospital called in a plastic surgeon to stitch me up, and he agreed to set my nose [a bone had displaced and pushed against one nostril, so I really looked like an old boxer!] Dr. Mohammed Ali!!
No kidding looked like Ali had already done my face!! [Boxing joke]
Anyway, I was so swollen and bruised that I looked like a huge mutant raccoon. So, a week later, the swelling receded and I went in for surgery. The basic plan was to knock me out, then strap on a tire-iron and pop my nose bone back into place. They used an IV, and I remember nothing. Commotion [nothing] then more commotion [waking to gurney in motion all done!] They didnt have to cut, which is happy. I sat in the recovery room with Pete, who came along. The pain was pretty bad [this coming from a guy who regularly thumps people at soccer!] so the nurse provided a Darvocet. It didnt help. [The nurse told me that it WOULD hurt] After about a half-hour, not cursing or crying but clenching my fists and gritting my teeth, another nurse [bless her!] gave me a shot of Dilaudid, which knocked me out. Much better. So, I had plastic tubes in my nose, one per nostril, which protruded a bit. I had to wear a gauze cloth like a drip tray, with paper tape holding in place. Kim, who I work with, gasped. She told me I looked like Hannibal Lecter. I got the tubes out after a week [no, it wasnt pleasant, and my nose bled for about an hour, but it didnt hurt.] So, after two days, I went jogging. No trips, no hurts. That night, I couldnt sleep because my left shoulder hurt so much. The next morning, I couldnt move my arm, so I called Kim and told her I was off to the E.R. [again!]. I thought I had a dislocated shoulder from the crash, but no: an inflamed rotator cuff!! Not even my pitching arm!! Well, its almost healed. I got in the last soccer game of the year [held my arm motionless people thought I was a kook, but it felt better afterward. Played defense but didnt score ;-)]
All-in-all, I missed five days of work, which is normally what I miss in a decade. The stitches are out, the swelling gone and most of my complexion back [just two spots of red on the nosie - I could have been Rudolph the Reindeer there for a time!]
Oh I had the facial fringe I alluded to [positive feedback, too!] but it just itched me silly, so its back to the Navy look..
Well, thats my story.Ill be biking again, after I fix the bike.
[Update]
The bike is fixed and works fine. I am fixed, too, and also work fine. There's not any trails close by, so I don't ride nearly as much :-( Got the facial fringe, now, and it works for me. Still have a funny hollow where my nose bone and cartilage almost meet, and a scar on my upper lip and tip of my nose, from them trying to separate from the rest of me. You almost gotta look, to see 'em. Just ask! Ya know I love to talk about myself :-)

Ten, Again

Wow, that was pretty bad. Three miles, 28' 20". Had to walk a bit. Legs felt like lead, plus had an interesting "side stitch" in my rib cage. Wasn't sure if I was going to die, or just hurl, so I walked. DEFINITELY will run again in a few hours. Think I'll have some lunch and hydrate up.

I forgot to mention in my last post, Yankees are off tonight. I subscribe to MLB.TV, so I am able to catch their telecasts pretty frequently, and Pix is really good about not making me feel bad for spending time doing so. Tonight, no game = Olive Garden :-) Yay!!

Paperwork. Copies of ssn, driver's licence, stuff like that. Goin' to the new job in Norfolk. Love the ocean, weather will still be pretty nice for most of the year. Amen. I don't want to put the details in a blog, so if you want to know the whys and wherefores, I'll be happy to mention it. Gotta send me an e-mail and request it! LOL

I'm hungry. Maybe that had some negative effect on the quality of the run. Reckon I'll fix that. Hmmm... roast beef or ham sandwich? Cheese and guacamole tortilla? Now I really am starving. See ya later!

September Ten

It's overcast, again, but that's a minor matter. Finished the Hindu Pushups and Hindu Squats, plus the Yogalation, and I feel good. Think I'll do three miles in a little while, might even have another workout session later in the day :-)

3:10 to Yuma was pretty good. The character actors were all excellent, including Peter Fonda!! Stirred up some emotions, let me tell you.

Pix stands for Pixie; Andrea tells me that she is not a pixie, but she has wild hair and is half Irish and is very stubborn. Did I mention that I love pixies? When I know someone really well, they tend to get a familiar name from me [Derek is Boo, Kevin is Kev or Chef, for example]. Andy just wouldn't do for her. Well, anyway.

I think we might go to Olive Garden tonight. I love to cook [so does Andrea!] and money is rather tight without a paycheck coming in regularly, but what the heck? Right? No need to be Spartan, after all [Except when watching 300!]. Pix loves Olive Garden, and while she says she is happy to have dinner here, we can [and will!] do that the rest of the week. Besides, I have a line of credit which will tide me over until Norfolk, and dinner out once in a while is programmed-in. Really. We're even going to Broadway Oyster Bar on Saturday to catch Folk'n'Bluesgrass. Haven't seen them since Brian and Sara got married [well, over a year now, since before Pix and I broke up and then got back together]. Love the Cajun food, love the cheesy, tacky setting and decor, love the earthy sound Brian and the boys get. Let's see if I can wrangle the editorial feature correctly enough to add a workable link:

http://www.folknbluesgrass.com cool! I got this figured out!! This is the link to the band's page. Acoustic - folk, blues, bluegrass like the name implies. Brian on guitar and singing, and is he ever good! Steve on mandolin and 2nd guitar, really nice guy. Travis on upright bass. Quiet, seems pretty cool though, and good with the equipment. Fred on washboard and harp.

http://broadwayoysterbar.com here's the setting. I'll make this another story, but this is the famous place where Crusty the Crustacean got animated, K got lit and keeled over on the dance floor, in front of the band.... another time, another story. I play requests :-)

http://briantcurran.com here's Brian's page. Folksy guy, good singer, ace guitarist. Knows more about the blues than I do, which I really respect.

Anyway, off to run and get busy on work-related paperwork, that is, gotta fill out lots of forms for my new job.

Happy Monday!

12:45 to Chesterfield

Pix and I are going to see Russell Crowe in "3:10 to Yuma" over at the Galaxy, starts in about 90 minutes so alas, probably won't catch the Yankee game. CMW on the hill, hope he can win for our sake as well as his quest for 20 wins and the Cy Young Award. Good luck, Wanger. Go Yankees!!

One last word before retiring

College Football.
Gators 59, Troy 31.
Gators all the way, I went there, I grew up in Central Florida, they're my boys, yo?
Still, I got my Master's at Troy [State], so a little bit of weird feelings.
Maybe just 1% though.
Our offense is finally the spread option.
Fear us.
Sure have a lot of kids on defense.
Hope they can keep the other team from scoring enough;
hope our offense can score more than they give up =:-0
I think they will grow into it, rise to the occasion.
Go Gators!!

If ya love the Gators, ya probably hate UGA.
Saint Steve, Coach Superior, the anointed Heisman Winner and Championship Winning Coach for us, beat those Bulldogs. Did it regularly when he stormed the sidelines for us. Now, he's doing it with South Carolina. Georgia had been ranked #11 in the country before faling to SCar.
By the way, we play those guys [GA] every year in the Gator Bowl in Jacksonville, Florida.
World's Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party. Some people even park on the expressway and go running into the stadium... Yeah, I know it's called Alltel Stadium now, but whatever... plus, authorities are trying to downplay the drinking, but are you gonna take being repressed by Da Man? I thought not. Anyway, these guys from Georgia, see, are driving their tractors, going to the game, goin' down Highway 95 and they look at the sign, and the sign says "Jacksonville, Left" and they all scratch their heads and mumble "Jacksonville done left" and they all turn their tractors around and go home. The End.

Good Night, Sleep Tight :-)
Go Gators!!!

Stories [2]

I originally put this on The Post, but then I got to thinking, why keep it only there? I am going to add a few details to make it a bit more palatable, hope ye dinna mind!

Back when I lived in Florida, I would hop down to Spring Training.
Tampa [well, Saint Pete, actually] was a pretty cool place. In those days, the Yanks were still training down in Fort Lauderdale, and I was living with a gal from Williston. Money was tight, and we couldn't really afford to go clear across the state, but we DID manage the trip a ways down the road, to Saint Petersburg.
I remember yakking with some cats who had been coming since the '20's.
We were at Al Lang Field [must've been 1981 or 1982, something like that] and I don't remember if the guy meant it was at that actual site, or just a relative distance, but the topic was the older fellows all remembered Babe Ruth in Spring Training there, some of his on-field exploits. One old-timer pointed to a palm tree that the Bambino reached [whether it was at Al Lang Field or some other place doesn't really matter.... what does matter is sitting around listening to first hand exploits of the Babe, and the idea that the ball had to have gone 600 feet or so to get there. Remember, the first 'scientifically' measured tape-measure drive was Mantle, right-handed in '53 out of Washington, to 565 feet].

Oh, one other recollection [geez, I oughta save this for my own blog, {hahaha gues I did anyhow!!} but I just can't get over myself =:-0 anyway, I was sitting in Saint Augustine, in the outdoor amphitheatre, watching the State Play, "The Cross and The Sword". I looked to the end of the aisle, and the wrought-iron ending to the seats had a vaguely familiar interlocking 'NY'. Not really like the Yanks, kinda more like the Mets. I asked an usher when the arena was constructed. Yup. 1965. They had gotten seats and wrought-iron work from the Polo Grounds.

Man, I love stuff like this.... baseball, and history ;-) Let's play two!!

Stories [1]

I promised to share a story or two regarding my experiences in chatting with big league ballplayers which did not really fit onto any other blog. I've always been a ballplayer. It was kinda nice, meeting another ballplayer who was good enough to have hit the big time.

The first big league player I met and talked with was Chris Knapp. Remember him?
Didn't think so [sorry, Chris]. Pitcher, once struck out Reggie Jackson :-)

I went back and Googled Chris, found out he's as old as my sister, Jo Ann [1953, so five years older than I am]. This didn't mean anything at the time, but Chris was born in Cherry Point, North Carolina, home of the Marine Corps Air Station [and not a whole lot else, the actual nearby city is Havelock]. Came up with the White Sox in 1975 out of Central Michigan U
[we beat them 81-0 or something like that in '97] and had a couple of good years. Traded with Brian Downing and pitcher Dave Frost to California Angels for Bobby Bonds, Rich Dotson, and Thad Boseley. Wow! In '78 Chris won more games than Nolan Ryan, 14 - 10. Musta blew out his arm, as he faded into a 2-14 season with 6.14 ERA in 1980, his last year in the bigs.

I met Chris and his wife in the hospital, actually. You see, after his arm went bad, he worked at a horse farm in central Florida, and I had been attending the University of Florida up in Gainesville. I'd met a gal from Williston, halfway between Ocala and Gainesville, and the Knapps were from around that area as well. Both ladies were in a family way, and if I remember it correctly, we shared the recovery room after deliveries. Nice folks, too.
Kinda personalized the whole big-league player thing for me as I realized that they are people just like anyone else. Can't remember just what we yakked about, mainly kids and horses, stuff like that. My son, Derek, was born at the time. Nice guy, I like him a lot. Lost track of the Knapps after that, wonder what they are up to? Hope they are doing well.

Fear Makes Us Not Motionless

Fear makes us not motionless,
for we tremble like frightened rabbits,
yet we progress not.
Placate, placate though light is plying
stillness,
quaking as love lies dying.
I'm a man,
nothing more,
nothing less.
I know great fear,
yet I would face it down
if only were I allowed to do so.
Rage.
Dying are the embers;
will they at least flare up
ere death's chill claims them once more?..

Hecate, Hecate -
the light is dead...
extinguished to placate Hel's fiery head
with fountains of tears.

I wrote this some time ago, questioning a dying relationship;
coming to a conclusion about it in the end.

Chili. Chilly?

Chilly, no, not really. It IS rainy here today, but the humidity is pretty high. Muggy. Steamy, even. I'm going to make some chili here in a little while, got some sour dough bread to go with it. Dang it!! I forgot to get tomato sauce at the store a minute ago. So, off to the store again for tomato sauce, prolly some beer as well [one for the chili, one for the mojo juice, some to wash down the chili and the sourdough bread.... you get the picture]. I have Carroll Shelby's chili mix. I love Carroll Shelby. Texan, racer, hot rod designer. Chili cook. You may recall the Shelby Mustang from the '60's.... nice. Shelby also took the AC Handley Ace and jammed in various Ford V-8 engines, including the 429 NASCAR side-oiler. Think of a roller skate with an auto engine, that's pretty close. Rumour has it that Shelby made two of these Shelby Cobra's for himself. Unknown engine but I would guess at the 427 Ford, twin turbos, capable of surpassing 200 mph IN STREET LEGAL CONFIGURATION. Ahem.
I almost made it out the door to run. Got suited up, stretched, hadn't eaten too soon before, wasn't hungry. It was pouring. Okay, I suppose I could run, but no need to catch pneumonia.
I'll try later, when the chili is simmering, before the Yankees game, before Pixie finally gets here.
Beef chunks, tomato sauce, masa flour, chili powder, red beans, diced onion, chopped red and green peppers, one beer [of course, water, too]. Sourdough bread with real butter y cervezas mas fina..... sounds like a recipe for success, what with Andy Pettite taking the hill for the Bombers. Life is good :-) Go Yankees!!

I'm Hungry

I'm Hungry.
I should be out running but I began to procrastinate.
It's overcast, and there might be lightning, and time keeps slipping away.
The Yanks play in a couple of hours, so that's the deadline.
Reading Yankees blogs, thinking of going to Rigazzi's to bring good luck to the Giambino.
Yep, now my stomach is rumbling :-)

Anyway, been going to the chiro for a bit.
My back has been clicking when I move, which is somewhat disconcerting, and for the past year, it has felt like a knife jabbing my lower back when I run. I've run a lot less this year. That and being on the road a lot = eating at a lot of restaurants = about ten pounds of extra goo around the midsection :-(

Lately, though, the back has been getting better. Ryan Eckman is my chiro, and if you are in metro StL, stop in for treatment. Good guy, good chiropractor. Has helped me a lot.
I've gotten back to basics, too. Matthew Furey's Combat Conditioning. Doing Hindu Pushups, Hindu Squats and Bridging has certainly helped relieve the pain [of course, limiting my alcohol intake has allowed my body to heal faster and better as wel].
Been doing some of Jamie Knee's Yogalation stretches, too, and that has also helped. Yes, Knee really IS her last name.

Man, I feel better just for writing all of this down!!
But, I am still hungry :-(

Go Yankees!!