Days like yesterday just don't come around often enough. Crystal clear blue skies. Manny finding the homerun swing. Seventy-seven degrees with no humidity. Curt Schilling, bigger than life on stage in the Bronx, shutting down the pinstripes and shutting up the crowd. These are the days you wish you could bottle up and save for mid-January when you've just had a three-hour commute through slush and snow and masses of drivers with IQ's under 100 and pitchers and catchers are still a month away from Florida. But you can't, so you just enjoy it.
And the Red Sox are like a wise fishahman who cast their net and pulled in a lahge, good fish. And we call this lahge good fish Curt Schilling...And that big fish, my children, pitched a wicked stunnah yestahday. So let's us pray for a continued healing of "the ankle" …
--Soxaholix, another fucking classic
Iain dealt with the tension by taking solace in the SGMB.
Sarah, who has cracked us all up lately on the SGMB, posted the following, excerpts from an ESPN: the Magazine article on Kevin Millar that I now feel the need to acquire:
"Curt needs to get out there and go to the Gap, to Levi's, anywhere to get rid of the 1999 Guess jeans that he wore to a Def Leppard concert back in the day. And he needs to get rid of the freaking Birkenstocks that he wears with his tired jerseys from different sports. Curt, if you read this, you need to go to the mall."
"Manny is by far the cheapest human being on this earth. He doesn't understand that he makes $20 million a year. We ask Manny to open up his wallet and let it breathe, because I know he has choked a few Benjamins."
"He spends the most time in front of the mirror. Mirabelli thinks he's god's gift to women, and he is terrible with his shirt off."
Days like yesterday, I miss the shit out of Edw. I know that with one line he could put it all together for me.