Keep It Above the Mendoza Line

2006-10-13T22:05:00.000-07:00

Um, yeah, they got me.

2006-08-08T21:02:00.000-07:00

This morning it was loud and bright and I woke up around 5. Then I went back to sleep and dreamed:

That I was watching the Red Sox and Athletics (I guess) play a baseball game. And for some reason the Athletics pitcher was pitching to Tim Wakefield. I guess he hadn't been doing a very good job. So Ken Macha comes out and just starts lighting into the guy, really giving him what for. Shaming the hell out of the guy. In fact, he is so disgusted by his pitcher that Macha decides he is going to come into the game and pitch. So he dismisses the guy on the mound, who promptly takes his shirt off in shame. And the announcers are all nutty because apparently Macha does this from time to time.

So Macha settles in to pitch to Wake, but instead of pitching, he is so angry with his staff's performance that he just whips out a gun. Like he is going to shoot Tim Wakefield. But before he can, Corky Miller dives in front of Wake as if to take a bullet for him.

And then I woke up.

And then the Red Sox lost to Kanas City.

I don't even know anymore.

Yeah, It Does

2006-08-07T16:25:00.000-07:00

[sits down at the bar and sulks] Man. I tried so hard yesterday. My body was saying suck but my mind was saying power through, and I won the argument. And look what happened.

[slides shot of whiskey over to Johnson] Son, I made my life outta readin' people's faces. And the thing is, those jokers are gonna ruin your fun 9 times outta 10, so you might as well start drinking.

I, I can't drink, Mr. Wakefield, sir.

Call me Gambler.

I can't drink, Gambler.

Why not? You a tee-to-tler? Or one of the Mormons?

No, Gambler, sir, I have diabetes.

I guess we'll just have to sing the pain away then.

[Clears throat, unleashes tearfully beautiful soprano] We both lie silent and still in the dead of the night.

Although we both lie closer together, we feel miles apart inside.

Was it something I said or something I did? Did my words not come out right?

Though I tried not to hurt you. Though I tried... I guess that's why they say...

Every rose has its thorn. Just like every night has its dawn.

Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song.

Every rose has its thorn.

Yeah, it does.

An Open Letter to All Pitchers

2006-08-02T21:24:00.000-07:00

Dear pitchers,

I surrender.

I promise to never, ever actively love, like, enjoy, root for, or applaud you, nor will I vocalize your attractiveness to others. Clearly, it is not working. Clearly, instead of having love that transforms people into All-Stars, my love transforms people into Matt Clement wannabes.

To Jason Johnson, I will not so much as tell you to power through.

To Craig Hansen, I will stop defending you to all my friends. I will not even politely suggets that you take a good long look at John Lackey because that is your downside in ten years, appearance wise.

To Chris Capuano, I apologize for making my friends vote for you in the final vote All-Star thing. I have taken your picture off my desktop at work. I will not look up when your starts are. I will not ask my mother where the article from the paper she was supposed to send me is.

To that guy on the Orioles who looks like he should live in the 1950s and be wearing a letterman sweater and the quarterback of the football team and named Dean, I hope your elbow grows back. It was fun while it lasted.

To Tim Wakefield, I will not so much as giggle when you wink in the Bernie & Phyl's commercial.

To Jon Lester, I will not give you a come to Jesus talk about how the sixth inning is your friend any longer.

To Jonathan Papelbon, I will continue to refer to you by full name, speaking only in low, dulcet tones, and I will continue making the sign of the "P" on my chest when I am done.

On this day in the hottest month ever on the hottest day ever, I promise that I will stop liking pitchers.

Signed,

The Nut

This is a copout post.

2006-07-26T20:48:00.000-07:00

I only have one thing to say about the Angels' impending visit!

Kryptonite

2006-07-09T10:52:00.000-07:00

Tiny Varitek Child #1: Daddy, I want a pony.

Tek: Now honey, you know that you're not old enough to take of a pony right now.

Tiny Varitek Child #1: *throws chin high fast ball*

Tek: *looks at child sitting happily on pony, confused*

Tiny Varitek Child #2: Daddy, I want this guy to sing at my birthday.

Tek: Absolutely not. That is not for children.

Tiny Varitek Child #2: Hmmph! *throws chin high fastball*

Tek: *covers the eyes of children and wife as singing occurs*

The baby: Daa! Yeep Papeeee!!!!

Tek: Oh, yes you are the funniest baby in the world. Silly, babies can't get David Ortiz tattoos! Hee hee!

The baby: *throws chin high fastball*

Tek: *blinks rapidly as he inspects his tattooed and blinged out baby*

Tek: *wanders into kitchen* Honey, I had the weirdest day today. Honestly, I'm not even sure if I'm dreaming or awake.

Mrs. Tek: Jason, I thought I asked you to mow the lawn.

Tek: I will, I promise. But it's really hot out today and I'd like to watch my new Civil War documentary DVD this afternoon while I have some time off.

Mrs. Tek: *narrows eyes, throws chin high fastball*

Tek: *suddenly finds himself on riding lowmower* Dammit.

Some Facts.

2006-06-15T16:24:00.000-07:00

Fact #1: My brother, aged 16, pitched 5 innings of either no-hit or 1-hit ball in a game this weekend this weekend at a highly competitive level.

Fact #2: My brother is a catcher.

Fact #3: His appendix had ruptured -- not just been inflamed, but had actually exploded -- the prior Thursday.

Fact #4: He was still more effective than the Red Sox pitching staff.

Jonathan Papelbon Does Not Understand Why You Cannot Find Him a Camel at 3am in Brookline.*

2006-06-11T20:15:00.000-07:00

It does not matter what he wants the camel for. Jonathan Papelbon's business is Jonathan Papelbon's business. Excuse me. Are you looking directly at Jonathan Papelbon? Looking at Jonathan Papelbon implies ownership. You are to look directly at the floor and only speak to him in low, dulcet tones to demonstrate that you understand that Jonathan Papelbon is not ours, buto only on loan to us.

Jonathan Papelbon is willing to take a camel with one hump if you are not able to procure one with two or three humps. If you could cover a baby elephant in green velvet, that would also be acceptable. He can be reasonable with you. It is of utmost importance that whichever creature you are finally able to present to Jonathan Papelbon answer to the name Crayola.

Jonathan Papelbon is hungry. This camel business is taking too long. He wants eggs Benedict with the eggs on the side.

Do not make Jonathan Papelbon wait much longer.

----
*with deference to Kristen and Prince.

Red Sox Unclear on Phrase

2006-05-24T19:45:00.000-07:00

Boston, Ma -- In a startling development after Wednesday's game, most of the 25 man roster and the coaching staff of the Boston Red Sox revealed that they do not know what it is to "make girls cry."

"I put on a good at bat in the eighth. I battled," stated Kevin Youkilis, first baseman. "I do not understand how my strikeout falls under the category of making girls cry."

When asked if his pitching performance was enough to make girls cry, Matt Clement responded, "I'm not sure. What makes girls cry? If it is failing to produce a quality start, well, maybe it could be. But probably not." Clement was quick to point out that he got hit by a batted ball in the second inning and thus his pitching performance shouldn't be linked to girls crying.

Left fielder Manny Ramirez proved to be a tough out on Wednesday night. When asked if his performance was at least partly an effort not to make girls cry, Ramirez said, "I think it would be fun to ride a green pony. Want some chicken?"

"I'm really not sure what I did," manager Terry Francona replied when informed about the crying girls. "I mean, Julian Tavarez and Rudy Seanez in a close game against the Yankees? What is wrong with that? It's not like opponents are batting .400 off of them."

When approached, Keith Foulke rolled his eyes and suggested "they grow a pair."

However, at least two members of the Red Sox are aware of what it means to make girls cry and are attempting to prevent it. Second baseman Mark Loretta said, "I knew the girls wanted me to get on base to keep the inning alive for David Ortiz. It was really hard to stand there as Kyle Farnsworth hurled 97 mile an hour fastballs at my head. Don't check my cup now, is all I'm saying. But I did it for the girls. I'm sorry for the loss, ladies."

David Ortiz proved unable to deliver after Loretta reached base. After dismantling a punching bag behind closed doors so as not to scare any errant girl who might be walking by, Ortiz emerged with with stuffed animals, candy, and an offer to hug anyone who needed it.

NESN Cribs

2006-05-10T15:42:00.000-07:00

Hello. My name is Mike Lowell, and welcome to my crib.

Feel free to take your shoes off. My home is your home. Let's start in the living room. Yes, the carpet is soft, isn't it? I always say, "Soft carpet, soft heart." Oh, you think my Julie Andrews DVD collection is neat? Why, thanks. No, you can't get it in stores. Ms. Andrews just knows I'm a fan. Let me see if I can get you a copy.

Over here you'll find the kitchen. Are you hungry? I spent this morning working on a pear tart. It's my mother's recipe. She used to make it when I was a little lad in Puerto Rico. Please, have a slice. Would you like homemade ice cream with that? Oh, please. You're too kind.

Oh, no this isn't the bedroom. This is my salsa room. You want me to dance for you now? Well, I suppose if that's what you really want. You'll have to accompany me, though. Don't be silly. Just feel the rhythm. Maestro?

Yes, that was fun! Did I win any awards? Oh, just a couple, back in the day. It's just a really relaxing way to spend the offseason.

The bedroom is just over this way. You might laugh at me, but, well, the yellow walls just make it feel so homey. It is like waking up bathed in sunshine every morning. Really, it's very relaxing. Oh, you like the soaps? Actually, no, you can't get them in stores. I made them. Oh, please, you're embarrassing me. It's not that hard. I just got these wonderful new soap molds in the other day. I'll be happy to send you some.

So yes, this is my crib. Thank you very much. I had a wonderful time too.

And now for something completely different.

2006-04-16T17:23:00.000-07:00

I promised myself there would be no serious ramblings on this one, but here is the one time exception...

The thing is, when you are a baseball fan of a certain level of devoutness, you're not going to make it through a 162 game season and then the postseason and then the hot stove season without a sense of humor. So, we blog. (Some more frequently than others, but that is how it goes.) Baseball can be an intense hobby. We all acknowledge we are insane. And then we post what the Gameday photos tell us to after Keith Foulke treads the line between brilliant and little league. Or, you know, that's just me.

But, you know, when you're writing silly things, like...say, 25 Reasons Why The Red Sox Are Better Than a Boyfriend, to be silly, to make some fellow friends and fans laugh, and to cheer yourself up after a dalliance with a total dillhole...well, it's kind of a weird feeling to see it crop up on someone else's site, taking credit for it. Was the post War and Peace? No way. Is the old blog gone, eradicating all proof? Yuppers. Did I get off easy compared to the people she lifted from more often? Indeed. (Maybe this means I need to step up my game!) But it still feels weird. Even they are stupid words, they are still my words. Imean, I know I suck attributing photographs (those down there are the work of the fine photogs at MLB.com!) but I've been trying to do better with it, and I would never lead you all believe that those are my pictures.

I mean, it's the internet. This happens, and in way more serious contexts than someone's freaking Xanga. But that doesn't make it any less stupid.

In other news.........

(photos from Redsox.com)

What the frig! I ask to be traded and they don't do it! I very pleasantly agree to stay and they don't let me start till April frigging 12th! And now they want me to frigging pitch on frigging Patriot's Day? What the frig!

Uh, sorry, dude, I just need to get to my shorts there....

It's like asking me to frigging pitch on St. Frigging Patrick's Day which they did last year. This is a holiday for my people! What. The. Frig. I'm supposed to be the only frigging sober person in Boston ON THE ONE FRIGGING DAY YOU CAN DRINK BEFORE 12 WITHOUT THE FRIGGING WAITRESS GETTING ALL FRIGGING JUDGMENTAL??

Um, yeah, can I get to my shorts please?

Dude, stick your foot out. I need to get a better look at those snazzy shoes. [Lenny obeys, Wells steps back and runs full bore at him, tripping and landing on his knee.]

OH NO WHAT THE FRIG HAS HAPPENED MY KNEE MY KNEE. I AM GOING TO NEED TO GO ON THE DL I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO MAKE MY PATRIOTS DAY START WHAT THE FRIG MY KNEE. COVER FOR ME LEONARD.

Uh, sweet.

Who Says We Missed Jim Palmer?

2006-04-10T08:47:00.000-07:00

Weekend Vignettess

"Most Likely To Wet His Pants.

"Most Likely to Succeed."

"Most Likely to See This Photo in Mom's Wallet."

You, uh, don't look too comfortable there, Kevin.

[through clenched teeth] Shut up.

I will defeat you.

That is preposterous! I giggle! Ha hee hee!

Um, hi.

Sup.

Go Team USA!

2006-03-24T08:04:00.000-08:00

Our sources say Alex Rodriguez has received a photo card from pitcher Mike Timlin. The inside of the card read, "It sure was fun playing together in the WBC. See you 19 times this season!" followed by a Bible verse.

The cover of the card may be found here.

No word on when Rodriguez plans to get out of bed.

Breaking News

2006-03-21T16:01:00.000-08:00

My hand is so heavy with Super Bowl rings I cannot even get my shirt on. What should I do?

Hey there pardner Diddy says maybe I can help you out with that.

2006-03-21T13:05:00.000-08:00

The thing is, we here at Keep It Above the Mendoza Line like to bring the news to you. The news that you need to know. The news of things that maybe didn't happen but probably should. Things have been rather slow here lately, so in dedication to you, the readers of KIAML, we took a flight from our HQ here to Boston and then to Fort Myers in search to bring you the story.

Here are a few tidbits:

--David Wells is planning on sticking around. How do we know? Because we read it in the paper? Pshht. Because he's investing in a sidecar for Kevin Youkilis.
--Much like a father interviewing nannies for his children, Terry Francona has selected a new caregiver for Manny Ramirez. Alex Gonzalez may not be the hot Portuguese 23 year old you wanted, but he's not going to get you in trouble with the wife.
--Not wearing sunscreen is not an option. The street team WILL find you.

But the big story went something like this:

Hey there, want to grab dinner?

You did not lead me astray with cookies. I will trust your dinner choice.

Is sushi okay? No one else will eat it with me. Trot don't eat no sushi.

That is fine. I will be happy to learn the culture of Fort Myers.

Excellent! And you know, if you don't want it raw, you don't have to. Tek things they will accidentally not cook his but that's not true. And if David Wells tries to tell you that it is [whispers] pussy [ end whisper] food, just send him to me. For some reason I intimidate him.

Want to be best friends forever? Here is one half of an amulet.

Sweet!

Meeting of the Minds

2006-02-03T16:19:00.000-08:00

[Johnny Damon enters an empty golf course, freckled with golden tees. A cold wind blows. He stands, waiting. A turtlenecked figure emerges from the shadows.]

JD: Hey, Mr. S! What's shakin'? [ He extends his hand.]

GS: SILENCE, FOOL. On your knees!

JD: [muttering as he kneels] Fuck, I thought that was just a rumor.

GS: WHAT WAS THAT?

JD: Nothing...s-sir.

GS: ARE YOU LOOKING DIRECTLY AT ME?

JD: N-no.

GS: [extends his arm, showing off a large, glittering diamond] YOU MAY KISS THE RINGj

JD: Uh, okay. [kisses the ring]

GS: ARE YOU READY TO BECOME A TRUE YANKEE, FOOL?

JD: You bet I am!

GS: [reaches under his turtleneck to produce a vial. He extends a liver-spotted hand in front of Damon's head, motioning it toward the vial. Smoky strands of red exit Damon's body.] AH, YES.

JD: Geez, what the fuck is that...sir?

GS: YOUR SOUL.

JD: Cool.

GS: [corks the vial, then produces another from under his turtle neck. It is bigger, filled with burned rubber, brownish water, and chest hair. He uncorks it.] DRINK THIS NOW.

JD: [smells the contents] Uuakgh, it stinks.

GS: THAT IS ESSENSE OF JERSEY, FOOL. YOU WILL LEARN TO LIKE IT.

JD: [quaffs the vial, choking and sputtering] Ugha....ALL OTHER TEAMS ARE INFERIOR. MAKING THE ALL-STAR TEAM MEANS NOTHING IF I DO NOT IT AS A YANKEE. I WILL WEAR A 3 DIGIT JERSEY BECAUSE THE NUMBERS OF ALL MY TRUE YANKEE FOREFATHERS SHOULD BE RETIRED.

GS: CAN IT, FOOL. I HAVE HEARD IT BEFORE. [He kicks Damon over and exits into the shadows.]

6 more weeks of beer

2006-02-01T15:57:00.000-08:00

February 1, 2006

To: Red Sox Team Members
From: HR
Re: Recent behavior

Gentlemen,

February is upon us, and I have been informed that you are all too acutely aware of what the second day of February is. Groundhog's Day is a delightful American tradition and a time for quaint celebration.

It is not a time for making fun of your teammates. Asking Mr. Wells if he is ready to see his shadow is rude and will not be tolerated. Also, please note that because spring training starts incredibly soon, stating that if Mr. Wells does see his shadow that it will be six more weeks of drinking is poor form.

Finally, please note that making size jokes about someone who could place you inside of a locker or hang you from the shower head by your underpants is ill advised.

Thank you,

HR

NB: Mr. Clement's inhaler is missing again. If anyone should find it, I am sure you are all well aware of the drill.

Therapy.

2006-01-20T08:20:00.000-08:00

Psychiatrist: Okay Mr. Shaughnessy, just relax. This is a simple word association test. I am going to say a word and all you have to do is reply with the first word that comes to mind. Do you have any questions?

Dan Shaughnessy: No.

P: Let's begin. "Up."

DS: Down.

P: "Right."

DS: Left

P: "Hot."

DS: Cold.

P: (mildly irritated) "Good."

DS: (quickly) Bad!

P: "Light."

DS: Dark!

P: "Pretty."

DS: Ugly!

P: "Soft."

DS: Hard.

P: (pause) God.

DS: Nomar...no...Theo...no...Nom-- (starts sobbing uncontrollably)

P: I'm sorry, our time is up.

Plus!

2006-01-12T14:31:00.000-08:00

Dear Mom and Dad,

Hi! It's your son, Kevin. I had such a good time seeing you guys at Chanukah.* Wasn't it funny when I put the dog in a sweater? Anyhow, I'm just writing to tell you that I've got some really good news! I don't have to play first base anymore!

Jed and Ben called me this morning and told me that they're inventing a whole new position for me, called 3rd Base Plus! The league is cool with it. Basically, while Mike Lowell is playing third base, I am going to be playing right next to him! They're going to let J.T. Snow handle first, since I am needed at 3rd Base Plus. It's amazing how innovative this team is. I'm sure other teams will cotton right on to doing it. Ben and Jed said it's going to be more physically demanding (since it is 3rd Base Plus), so I'm working hard at getting faster.

Anyway, I hope you guys are well. I look forward to your visit later!

Love,
Kevin Youkilis
Greek God of Walks

*my transcriber is fired.

You get a line...

2006-01-10T17:38:00.000-08:00

Scene: A nice Los Angeles restaurant.

Grady Little: This meeting of Displaced East Coasters is now in session.

Bill Mueller: Excuse me sir, I am from the midwest.

Nomar Garciaparra: I am from California.

GL: Well, boys, I'm from Texas and I ain't supposin' that's on the east coast either. Let's think of a new name.

Derek Lowe: I propose the Dodgers Drinking Club.

NG: That's not bad.

GL: Good work, son.

BM: Excuse me, I'm a teetotaler.

DL: *cough*pussy*cough*

NG: Excuse me Derek, last time I checked, Doug Mirabelli was put on a completely different NL California team.

DL: Sorry, Bill.

BM: No harm done, Derek. Anyhow, I propose we call ourselves the Four Friends.

GL: Nah, we need something with a little more zip. I r'member back'n Texas, we had this club and I tell ya, we jus' had the best time. YOU GET A LINE, I GET POLE. WE'LL GO FISHIN' DOWN AT CRAWDAD COVE...

NG: (sotto voce) Oh, um, he's singing.

GL: YOU GET A LINE

BM: I-I'll get a pole...

DL: (quickly) We could call ourselves....um....

NG: There's gotta be something.

[enter Frank McCourt]

Frank McCourt: Heeey! It's my guys!

BM: Um, hello sir.

FM: Grady! We need to meet later today. We might have a trade in the works. I don't want to say anything in front of my guys, but there might be a signing in the works. Rhymes with Pill-ar! (conspiratorially winks)

GL: Oh, heavens.

FM: Heh heh! Cowboy up!

BM: Um, bartender?

Well, he sure filled out.

2006-01-04T18:51:00.000-08:00

Dougie: Hello?

Wake: Hey, buddy.

Dougie: Sup?

Wake: I was just hoping you could help me make a call.

Dougie: Anything you need, man.

Wake: What should I make for dinner tonight?

Dougie: Chicken parm.

Wake: ....really? That's what you said last night. And the night before.

Dougie: You gotta play to your strengths, man. There are tons of other guys out there who make a shrimp scampi or roasted pork loin. Your pork loin is fine, but the chicken parm is your bread and butter.

Wake: It's like you, you know me, man.

Dougie: C'mon dude, don't cry. Tek, he knows his stuff.

Wake: (sobbing now) He...he...he suggested I make v-v-vegetable soup!

Dougie: Oh. I see.

Wake: Yeah.

Dougie: He'll learn you, man. He's a good guy.

Wake: Dude, every time I go up to him, he's working on his Matt Clement binder!

Dougie: Makes sense. (beat) But look, just go with your instincts. You're gonna be fine. Come on, give us a smile.

Wake: O-okay.

Dougie: I can tell you're not smiling. Come on. Who's Dougie's favorite thug?

Wake: I...I am.

Dougie: That's right. Now, be sure to send Dougie some of that parm when you hit up the left coast.

Strategy

2006-01-01T20:09:00.000-08:00

Ben: Well, Jed, we have a problem.

Jed: (takes puff of asthma inhaler) Um. Yeah.

Ben: How many vacant positions are we at?

Jed: I guess 2. If we don't trade Manny. And if we keep Kevin Youkilis at first base.

Ben: (pops a handful of Tums) It seems like so much more.

Jed: How in the world are we going to find a shortstop and a center fielder?

Ben: Jedders, there's only one way.

Jed: You get the dartboard. I'll get the hatful of names.

Ben: You don't think they've caught on, do you?

Jed: Oh, no, John Flaherty and all the third basemen ever made really good sense. Really.