The final pitch had just been thrown, but unlike a certain game that would end about 20 minutes later, this pitch did not lead to an out. It didn't even lead to a ball put in play. It was ball four and it walked in the run that beat our team, Jack's Bar and Grill. We had held the lead most of the game, even one in double digits, but we couldn't hold it. We couldn't stop walking people.
And our lack of control is somewhat ironic because one Red Sox pitcher named Jon Lester always looks good in games ... until he starts walking the ballpark. He has problems throwing strikes; he has a good ERA and a decent amount of strikeouts, but his WHIP stinks because he can't throw enough balls over the plate.
Well, when our game ended, we all checked our cellphones, like most folks do. A text message said that Lester was throwing a no-no into the ninth. With that, we grabbed our gear and ran toward the parking lot.
While enjoying a post-game beverage in the parking lot and listening to the radio, my friends Shayne, Jay and I listened to the broadcast and the final three outs. I don't know why, but I just consider it cool to have listened to the the game there in the parking lot with the radio blasting and all three of us pacing, listening.
I can remember exactly where I was for all four no-hitters thrown by the Sox in my lifetime. In 2001, when Hideo Nomo tossed his, I was glued to the couch of my Providence apartment, forcing my roommates to watch with me. In 2002, I was home visiting my parents when Derek Lowe buzzed through the Devil Rays. And last year, I was out to eat and then made it back to Jack's Bar and Grill in time to see the last few inning of Clay Buchholz's gem. So, I don't know, it was just kind of fitting to hear this one the radio, like I know everyone would have had to years ago. So congratulations to Jon Lester. The cancer thing is going to get talked about in every game story, recap and TV package, but it's fitting. I'm not the biggest Lester fan because I can't stand pitchers who nibble on the corners when they can throw 95, but this is a great moment and good for him.
Enough with the baseball though. We also had a great basketball game last night and my friend Harris McCabe, who lived in San Antonio for a while growing up, got to see his Spurs send the Hornets home. This made me happy because I hate Chris Paul. He's a little whiner. Just his face when he whines makes me cringe. Go Tim Duncan, who might be the best basketball player I've ever seen play in my lifetime, minus the big three of Michael Jordan, Larry Bird and Magic Johnson.
Only one more day, sort of, till "Indiana Jones" premieres here. I'll be at the 12:01 a.m. showing Wednesday night at Criterion, covering it for the Register. I'll be finding the funny stuff that happens. It should interesting. All I want is to spot a male or female with a whip. Can you hear me New Haven? If you bring a whip to the premier, I will make you the centerpiece of my column. Is this making news?
I want to receive my review copy of this CD, just so I can look at the CD booklet. I don't care about what must be the awful music contained on the disc. Although, she is only 19, so that's a bit icky.
I love "Law & Order." And this is just another reason why.
Our own Mates of State officially release "Re-Arrange Us" today. I'll review Friday, but please, please, please: Head over to your local record store or (if you lack a soul) fire up iTunes and purchase this thing. It's a great disc by a great and local band.
So R. Kelly's trial is just now starting? I mean, didn't this happen like eight years ago? If you or I got caught having sex on video with our 13-year-old cousin, I assume we'd already be in jail. But, you know, we don't make visually stunning videos for mediocre songs about being trapped in the closet. And I won't joke about the name, OK?
With that, I think I'm done. Got to get to work. Have a good day fine folks of the worldwide web. And, oh yeah, check out some of the comments being left on blog entries here: These are some funny stories happening in the world.
And our lack of control is somewhat ironic because one Red Sox pitcher named Jon Lester always looks good in games ... until he starts walking the ballpark. He has problems throwing strikes; he has a good ERA and a decent amount of strikeouts, but his WHIP stinks because he can't throw enough balls over the plate.
Well, when our game ended, we all checked our cellphones, like most folks do. A text message said that Lester was throwing a no-no into the ninth. With that, we grabbed our gear and ran toward the parking lot.
While enjoying a post-game beverage in the parking lot and listening to the radio, my friends Shayne, Jay and I listened to the broadcast and the final three outs. I don't know why, but I just consider it cool to have listened to the the game there in the parking lot with the radio blasting and all three of us pacing, listening.
I can remember exactly where I was for all four no-hitters thrown by the Sox in my lifetime. In 2001, when Hideo Nomo tossed his, I was glued to the couch of my Providence apartment, forcing my roommates to watch with me. In 2002, I was home visiting my parents when Derek Lowe buzzed through the Devil Rays. And last year, I was out to eat and then made it back to Jack's Bar and Grill in time to see the last few inning of Clay Buchholz's gem. So, I don't know, it was just kind of fitting to hear this one the radio, like I know everyone would have had to years ago. So congratulations to Jon Lester. The cancer thing is going to get talked about in every game story, recap and TV package, but it's fitting. I'm not the biggest Lester fan because I can't stand pitchers who nibble on the corners when they can throw 95, but this is a great moment and good for him.
Enough with the baseball though. We also had a great basketball game last night and my friend Harris McCabe, who lived in San Antonio for a while growing up, got to see his Spurs send the Hornets home. This made me happy because I hate Chris Paul. He's a little whiner. Just his face when he whines makes me cringe. Go Tim Duncan, who might be the best basketball player I've ever seen play in my lifetime, minus the big three of Michael Jordan, Larry Bird and Magic Johnson.
Only one more day, sort of, till "Indiana Jones" premieres here. I'll be at the 12:01 a.m. showing Wednesday night at Criterion, covering it for the Register. I'll be finding the funny stuff that happens. It should interesting. All I want is to spot a male or female with a whip. Can you hear me New Haven? If you bring a whip to the premier, I will make you the centerpiece of my column. Is this making news?
I want to receive my review copy of this CD, just so I can look at the CD booklet. I don't care about what must be the awful music contained on the disc. Although, she is only 19, so that's a bit icky.
I love "Law & Order." And this is just another reason why.
Our own Mates of State officially release "Re-Arrange Us" today. I'll review Friday, but please, please, please: Head over to your local record store or (if you lack a soul) fire up iTunes and purchase this thing. It's a great disc by a great and local band.
So R. Kelly's trial is just now starting? I mean, didn't this happen like eight years ago? If you or I got caught having sex on video with our 13-year-old cousin, I assume we'd already be in jail. But, you know, we don't make visually stunning videos for mediocre songs about being trapped in the closet. And I won't joke about the name, OK?
With that, I think I'm done. Got to get to work. Have a good day fine folks of the worldwide web. And, oh yeah, check out some of the comments being left on blog entries here: These are some funny stories happening in the world.
3 comments:
Don't go in expecting "Indiana Jones and the Greatest Movie Ever," and you'll have a perfectly acceptable time.
I mean, nothing will ever rival the original, but it's not as bad as number two, and as long as they don't continue this franchise with La Beef (!), then all is well. If we don't see another adventure with Dr. Jones, this is not the worst way they could end it.
That said, enjoy. The chase through good old New Haven was one of my favorite parts of the flick!
Back when I pitched for Lenny & Joe's Fish Tale (Madison), I used to dream of thowing a "slow-pitch no no."
I know that sounds like a ridiculous fantasy, but you have to remember that the only way restaurant employees can field a full team is by playing at like 6:30 in the morning. Add to that the fact that there was a lot of drinking involved (yes, at 6:30 in the morning) and you see how that might be possible.
But, that's not what happened . . . not even close. In fact at some point I was so shell-shocked from getting hit in the ankle that I pretty much gave up on pitching altogether.
p.s. I loved your Indiana Jones review.
So here I sit, deep into a Saturday night, talking to this here blog (the equivalent of the video confessional for those of us not pretty enough to get on reality TV).
This week has taken its toll. First, c'mon PF...you're back to your once a week check-in's here. Sometimes, these are the only bright spots for we residents of Misfit Island. Maybe you could pay someone a couple of bucks just to repost your Monday blog about midway through the week, just to make us societal outcasts think you have something new and exciting to say?
Anyway, work has been long, tedious and taxing, and the tree pollen has made staying outdoors for anything more than a few moments pretty unbearable. To top it off, I spent the last two days entertaining distant relatives from jolly old England who couldn't understand why doing some sort of triangular Philadelphia, Manhattan, Boston tour in two days is physically (and frankly, psychologically) impossible. Nice folks but...bon voyage! Don't forget to write!
Off they went today at 2, and I just crashed. Woke up around 7 to two calls inviting me out in your stomping grounds (NH), and one to see Indy (which I've alread seen and discussed in a previous post).
And I turned 'em all down.
So..,here I am. I don't know how you do it. I mean, I know it's your job and all, but I always get the impression from your articles that for you a bad night out is better than a good night at home. Sometimes, I just can't face it especially when good old Claritin is hitting me like a VanDamme kick to the head.
And tomorrow, two barbeques are looming. At the moment, I'm inclined to no-show at both. Nursing a hangover by 7 pm on Sunday night has lost the appeal it once held. Couple the hangover with itchy eyes and nonstop sneezing and well...it's like being tied to a chair and made to listen to that Scarlett Johannsen CD.
Sorry to be a downer. Right now, Stewart's in his dark place.
P.S. Sadly, I will have no preview report on Sex and the City for you, as I have also passed up attending the press screening. Not so much because of allergies. Mostly because just the thought of the movie makes me throw up in my mouth. However, I will be sure to catch your video preview next Friday cause I'm SURE you'll be first in line for that work of cinematic GENIUS.
P.S.2 Really enjoyed your front pager on Indy. Nice job.
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