88 mph, suckas.

greetings, internet goers of the past. i am writing to you from the future (mid-October 2009) to inform you that the Sox have won the AL East. this, contrary to reports from the earlier part of the year that a.j. burnett, c.c. sabathia, m.c. teixeriaieria, and (of course) d.s. jeter would lead the jankees to a 160-2 record.

but nay! Las Mediasrojas took the crown by a game over the yankees, who fell flat on their faces in August after alex rodriguez went down with a curious injury. to put it bluntly, one of his balls exploded. take a guess why.

coming soon (i really, really hope), a commentary on ARod's now infamous interview with Peter Gammons. actually, since i am writing to you from the future, i can say with a high level of certainty that i will never get around to doing this.

also, put all your money into Chrysler. right. now. you'll thank me sometime around August.

MVPedroier

add now to his already impressive list of hardware (RoY, GG, SS), the 2008 AL MVP award. not a bad choice by the writers, as it blends the "traditional" standards (he played on a playoff team, was renowned for his grit and hustle, hit the fuck out of the ball) but his objective value was quite high as well (great defense, middle infielder with offensive value, 20 for 21 in steals (!!!!)), so you probably won't hear alot of whining from either side about this one.

i'm also impressed with the writers for giving Poo-holes his due in the NL, and not letting their voting hands slip on the drool generated by Ryan Howard's RsBI and home runs. now if we can just do something about Edinson Volquez's rookie eligibility.

Ichiro Fucking

Alex Rodriguez Suicide Watch

so today is my last day of work in the insurance industry before i retire (seriously), so why not burn out by doing a trifle bit of blogging?

right, then. if i were a close friend of alex rodriguez, my name would be Madonna. and as Madonna, i would make sure to keep alex away from razor blades, sleeping pills, and nooses, because a man can only take so much abuse before he gives in and kicks the chair. it's not that he's going to scan Lupica's article here (which, like all of Lupica's articles, reads like a fifth grader's book report, except without shitty hand-drawn pictures of the characters), polish a pistol, and swallow a bullet. i hope he's learned to insulate himself from the media since his move to the Bronx. i mean, clearly the man knows how to handle himself with aplomb whilst in the camera's eye (joking), so i can only imagine he's not riding home on the subway reading the Daily News. (actually, can't you just imagine A-rod going home, asking his butler for a grape popsicle and today's issues of the tabloids, laying belly down on a canopy bed fretting over the stories about himself? kind of like a 13-year old girl reading about the Jonas brothers, only a lot more whining and squealing.)


seriously though - i'm sure A-Rod ignores the tabloids. but how do you ignore 55,058 jerks booing you mercilessly while just 25 feet to your left stands a man insulated from any sort of adversity, despite the fact he is OPS+'ing 56 points lower than you, isn't banging hot shemale strippers, and has "Sanderson" for a middle name? sure, A-Rod gets paid the most, says the dumbest things, and has that annoying "best player in the game and maybe in history" collar around his neck, but i'm sure he's asking himself every single day of his life, "is it really fucking worth it?"

i genuinely feel sorry for the man.

Not only a client, the President

The first insallment of Smarty Barrett's "theme teams."  Today's theme - Presidents:

C: Dan Wilson

1B: Reggie Jefferson

2B: Adam Kennedy

SS: Russ Adams

3B: Charlie Hayes

LF: Craig Monroe

CF: Otis Nixon

RF: Joe Carter

DH: Reggie Jackson

SP: Randy Johnson

SP: Whitey Ford

SP: Dave Bush

RP: Jermaine Van Buren

MANAGER: Ron Washington