More Rumblings

Hopped up on coffee coasting to another 4 day weekend on fumes after only 4 (if that) hours of sleep last night, I've come to the realization that it's difficult to come up with 'rumblings' when you are short 2 days in the work week. But I've got a few for you:

• Carrot Top's comedy sketches were really not much to laugh at, but I'll be on my best behavior the next time I listen to one of his skits because he could easily whoop my ass.
  
• There is no way that woman whom tackled the Pope should have gotten within 10 feet of him, not just because this isn't the first time she's done it, but he has the Pope-mobile. Put his Jesus-loving ass in it!
  
• The new craze taking over my life, Blokus. Play it online in hopes of becoming as good as I am.
  
• Wanna know when you have balls of steel? THIS is when you have balls of steel.
  
• I'm about as fucking done with terrorists as you can friggin' be, Does anyone honestly think 'Allah' wants you to kill innocent people. Get a fucking Clue.
  
• I hate Nintendo Wii. I don't know why I bought it. I should have realized then that when I want to play a video game I don't want to be interactive, I want to be a drone.
  
• 50 cent is back, and I've decided he wrote this song to pay homage to a true playa (me), ya hurrr…(OK sorry that was horrible.)
  
• If you like spoofs, this is pretty good! It get's catchy.
  
• The Office is like fine wine, it only gets better with age.
  
• Thinks the characters in Avatar look like Mewtwo from Pokemon, and is precisely the reason I'm not seeing it, because the last time I played Pokemon Gold I got wiped out by a fucking Weedle.
  
• Thinks Chandler Bing and Mimi Bobeck are two of the funniest characters in all of 90's sitcoms.
  
• For some reason the most random television shows that I used to watch always pop up in my head when I write 'rumblings'. Remember: Perfect Strangers.
  
• After a lull of about 5 years or so Saturday Night Live is on the rebound and is as funny as ever with their last 5 episodes.
  

Stay Tuned

Ryan

Shame on Sox Fans.

Granted it's probably my own fault for listening, but I am damn tired of hearing Red Sox fans call up talk radio (WEEI), griping about how the Red Sox cannot compete with the offense of the Yankees. With(out) due respect, go construct your team on a video game because you clearly have no idea what you're talking about. Whether or not they get a bat (that they do in fact need), all you need to do is get in the tournament, and you have a shot. If you look at how they are constructed right now you have to say that they are better than last year.

• Better SS defense/offense
  
• Better all around outfield Defense
  
• Deeper and more improved starting pitching
  
• A full season of a productive catcher
  

These were 4 areas last year that were hampering the abilities for our team to win. Shortstop, as everyone has had beaten into their head, has been a revolving door and even though Scutaro isn't the big name that some people are secretly (or not so secretly) pining for, but the fact of the matter is he will stabilize the defense and won't be the absent presence that Jed Lowrie and Nick Green were last year. He is also a productive bat in the lineup. He won't break the bank with homers or ribbies, but he is another, "keep the line moving" guy that fits the Red Sox mold to a tee.

I don't care how Old Mike Cameron is, there are less than a handful of center fielders that get better jumps on the ball than our new acquisition. And if you want to be concerned about him running into one of the numerous nooks and crannies that are all over Fenway Park that's one thing, but his bat would equal if not exceed what Mike Lowell would give us but also add 25 steals instead of C3PO running the bases.

John Lackey was a surprise, and a brilliant move that gives you potential trade bait or just a quality group of insurance if someone is to get hurt. If he stays healthy, he's the key to Red Sox success. He will be the "#3" starter and that gives us the top rotation in baseball, and a PROVEN October pitcher. So for all you saying that the Yankees acquistion of Vazquez is equal to Lackey, remember the last time Vazquez took the mound against the Red Sox in October? I seem to recall a piss rocket (319 footer) hit for a grand slam in Game 7 of the 2004 ALCS. John Lackey just shut our team down AND the Yankees in consecutive series and is now as healthy as he has been in years. Look for 14-17 wins out of your number 3 starter, and that is not equaled by ANYONE in baseball.

Victor Martinez was acquired at the trade deadline last year and immediately became the other "heart and soul" of the team along with Dustin Pedroia, and the ghost of Jason Varitek. He will hit .300, club around 30 round-trippers, and drive in 100 runs. The backstop defense is still an issue no matter who is behind the plate, with the catchers we have on this roster. By the way I could EASILY fix Victor Martinez and his throwing woes and there will be no Rube Baker references, but unfortunately that is neither here nor there. Throw him in the 3-5 spot depending on any other free agents or trade candidates we sign and you get a legit middle of the order threat.

Is our offense still an issue? Yes. We need to re-sign Bay, OR sign Matt Holliday at the very least unless there is a trade in the works for some big name player. Jeremy Hermida is going to surprise some people this year. Calling it right now that he has 15 HRs even as a non-starter. Our bullpen, as it stands right now needs 1-2 arms, Manny DelCarmen needs to be truncated, and of the 1-2 arms needs to be a lefty. Other than that our roster is set up to win at least 95 games once again. Then your opposition has to face a trilogy of shitfests with Lester, Beckett, and Lackey in succession in the playoffs, and don't NOBODY want to face that. EVEN the Yankees.

Stay Tuned

Ryan

Lay Down by the Bay and Eat Some Hay.

Like Billy Bob from Varsity Blues said in a drunken stammer, "I'm Back! Puking Rally."

While I'm hoping the need to regurgitate doesn't come up when reading this installment I am indeed back for the next 3 days and we'll have another hiatus until full-time hob-knobbing fun ensues. While it's said that the Mets are the frontrunners for Jason Bay's services in the 2010 season, but me along with Peter Gammons think he'd "rather playin Beiruit than Queens," which leaves only a few teams that are in need of a left fielder. But something tells me that Bay is going to be back in Boston, which is a good thing, but it's going to be a heavily back-loaded contract so they can stay under the cap. And as we all know that would open trade season again. I don't know exactly who that player is because Adrian Gonzalez is indeed looking more and more unlikely, but I have to believe that they aren't going to have 4 starting outfielders on their roster.

So other than people signing reclamation projects (Duchscherer and Escobar) not much happened over the long weekend, and to say that I'm surprised is sort of an understatement, but I don't have much baseball to talk about other than this. So you get to hear about the Yule Tide shitshow around my parts.

Christmas Eve. It's supposed to be the time to spread all sorts of holiday cheer. Well my car apparently didn't get the memo. Wifey pulls into the yard about 3 hours before the Christmas party with steam pouring out of the hood. Upon further inspection there was no antifreeze in the vehicle, but that would seem like an easy fix, aka pour more antifreeze into the well. Whence we arrived at the party, steam once again starts inundating the hood because now i have realized that there is no antifreeze once again and have concluded that here is a leak in a hose. So, with a few FML's and WTF's followed by half a handle of Captains I quickly forgot about it until I realized that 4 people don't fit into a 2 (occasionally 3 person truck).

Now I've been bumming rides off people like a hobo, when it's most likely a simple hose that needs to be replaced yet I'm about as automotively illiterate as Charlie Sheen is celibate. But hey let's not be a Debbie Downer, let's get to the gifts:

Best Gift: Hard Copy Edition of the inaugural season of: Bottom of the Ninth by Ryan Norton (Me!)

This was not just an innovative gift but when you are completely not expecting something from one of your dedicated readers, this is truly a great friend and even more heartfelt gift. Grade: A+

Worst Gift: A T-shirt with sideways writing saying, "I'm laughing at you while you read this with your head like that."

Really don't think this one is my kind of shirt, but it was coupled with an ass mouse pad that used the ass as a wrist rest. The ass made the gift a smidge more desirable which is precisely why I re-gifted it (Just the pad, I'm stuck with the shirt). Grade: D+.

This was a highly uneventful group of days off, could be because half the time I was in a Cheech and Chong like haze from all the rum (and no rum is not code for weed) and today I'm so physically exhausted from the first physical exertion since I tore my ACL. And to further explain to you how tired I am its like seeing Nicole Scherzinger naked and having your dick tell you, "Go Fuck yourself." Yeah, i'm that kind of Bushed.

Stay Tuned

Ryan

Wednesday instead of Friday Rumblings

Today's the last day of the work week for me, and with the only potential signing being Troy Glaus potentially going to the Braves, I'd rather let the inner-workings of my brain just regurgitate onto the page here.

• A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, is in fact the stupidest "saying" I've ever heard because no one really ever says it or really knows what it means.

• Also, just a reminder, Mark Teixeira signed the day before Christmas last year, so there could be some fireworks over this long weekend, here's hoping for a Boras Special in Boston.
  
• If you pull out in front of someone you had better drive like a bat out of hell because if I have to slam on my brakes I will in fact be in your backseat.
  
• Does anyone else remember the old sneakers that everyone used to wear: LA Lights? Well Sketchers has now made their own version called the S-lights. I loved the Nineties but these new shoes look like a goddamn police car, you're better than that Sketchers.
  
• The DMV of New Hampshire and their newfound paper license as a sort of prequel to the real thing is the most infuriating "cost-cutting" measure I've ever seen. There is absolutely no way it saves money to print off the paper ones, and then have one made up at the Capitol and then mailed to your house. Asinine
  
• Lately I've really been trying to hone in my poker skills on the felt by watching heads-up matches, but I'm starting to believe the only reason I'm watching is because of the poker goddess, Vanessa Rousso. That saucy little minx.
  
• Wonders what really happened with to Brittany Murphy. Anorexia finally catch up to her?
  
• Wow, didn't realize Michael Jordan was this hard up on cash.
  
• This may actually be the finest display of vocals I've EVER heard.
  
• Watching Snooki get housed on Jersey Shore was hilarious but how did that douche bag not get his face pounded in by ANYONE before the cops got there, weak. Also, massive fail by MTV for not showing the actual clock-cleaning.
  
• Not to toot my own horn, but there is no Sudoku to difficult to me, sort of aggravating to be so damn good at everything.
  

All of ya'll have a Merry Xmas and I'll be back on Monday, with probably some alcoholically based, Clark Griswold-esque stories. So with that I guess Clark said it best, "Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Kiss my ass, Kiss his ass, Kiss your Ass, Happy Channukah."

Stay Tuned

Ryan

One inch forward, Two inches back

Just when you think that you have the edge in pitching over the vaunted Evil Empire, the Yankees go out and trade for Javier Vazquez. This will be the 2^nd go-round in the Bronx, but he is a staple for 200 innings, and really stabilizes that 3^rd slot in their starting rotation. But the problem with this is the player they traded away: Melky Cabrera. Trading Melky means that they no longer have a left fielder since they have all but severed ties with Johnny Damon. As far as I know there are 2 marquis free-agent left fielders left in the open market, and now the Yankees have an opening, but do they have the gall to go above the 5 or 6 year offer at 15-16 mil per? Odds are they do, but will they?

I'm a big believer in the underlying nature of dreams. So I would LOVE for someone to explain my latest theatrical production in my head from last night. To preface, I fell asleep last night watching this program on Sir Isaac Newton and his pursuit of being a Nostradamus-esque character by trying to find hidden clues in the bible for Armageddon (great show by the way). The style was that it sort of bounced from era to era finding the dates that Isaac Newton pegged as the critical points in the demise before the resurrection of Christ.

Now, onto the dream. It sort of started with some of the big events that I have seen in my lifetime. The first was the Oklahoma City Bombings. This was by and large the worst attack on US Soil until the Sept. 11 cowardice attacks 6 years later. And I was thrust in as the officer that pulled Timothy McVeigh over shortly after he had just set off his van in front of the building that killed over 160 people. As I was driving I noticed a car without a license plate and had no idea of the ramifications that would follow.

The next instance was the Columbine shooting. And instead of being the "hero" I was the spineless antagonist, Eric Harris. See the thing is, I was 10 when this happened and I couldn't remember the names of these guys if you tasered me, so for me to know that I was Eric Harris is very strange. All I remember from this particular part of the dream was coming into a library yelling peek-a-boo and shooting anything that moved or was attempting to be concealed. When I woke up my nose was killing me, I'm not sure why, but just for shits and giggles I looked up this ordeal and it told me that Eric Harris broke his nose from a recoil on his shotgun. Creepy.

The final thing was something that was not real. It was a complete fabrication of anything and have absolutely no idea why my mind concocted it, but I was riding in a car to go meet a still alive Michael Jackson. And I'm going down a dark, windy road (supposedly Neverland) and I pull up to the front of the palace and there are no lights almost pitch black. When I open my door and step out of the car a spotlight highlights The King of Pop sitting in a lawn chair with his hands behind his back. The next thing I recall is him moonwalking towards me and clubbing me over the head with a crowbar.

This is BY FAR the most creepy dream that I have ever had and would REALLY like for someone that has an opinion (other than my insanity) to tell me what the hell is going on in my Cabeza.

Stay Tuned

Ryan

‘Tis the Season.

Just when the gettin's good, Mike Lowell throws a bag of dog shit on our porch and lights it on fire. As much as I liked (not loved) Mike Lowell on the team I'm not even pissed off at him for not revealing his injury to the medical team. After all we know that JD Drew would have 100% sat out the rest of the season with this. And for all the time we bitch and moan about players not playing hurt (because we think we would) and Mike Lowell has now done it twice and although painful to watch he has been an absolute warrior and even though he is not the best option for THIS team whomever he signs with or gets traded to will be getting a quality player and more important a class individual.

I've also got to say that after listening to Dustin Pedroia on The Laser Show, with Mutt and Bradford, he is leaps and bounds ahead of Kevin Millar in the comedy department for the Red Sox. I'm talking Richard Pryor shit, take a listen.

Other than that there isn't much baseball but, lo and behold, I had a Christmas Party!

Now most Christmas parties consist of hugging, figuring out who's pregnant (or trying), and griping about work. Don't get me wrong everyone gripes about work. But this Christmas, it was about which ass Tiger will wax next, ridiculing mercilessly the one bad wardrobe choice at the party (rhinestones), and alcohol; buco amounts of alcohol.

First off, Tiger is an animal. That is not just an ironic statement because a tiger is in fact an animal, but Tiger is a friggin lunatic. We came to a few conclusions at the suarez and they were the following:

• Everyone that golf's (meaning the people at the party) now needs to get asked 15x if they were really Sinking Putts or Nailing Sluts.
  
• When your wife is as hot as Elin and undoubtedly with a name like Elin you probably want "it" all day long
  
• Even when you think you're the most powerful man in the world, and seemingly have the world by the balls, your wife still has you by the short hairs. Remember that one boys.
  

As far as you all know I'm the next GQ, as far as I'm dressed. But in reality I'm a Plain Jane for lack of a better term. And for family functions you will catch me in one of a few things:

Summer- Khaki Shorts, Polo shirt, and a backwards ball cap (essential with most of my outfits)

Winter/Fall- Khaki Pants, button down long-sleeve, and my square tip dress shoes (also a must because I'm not like everyone else who wears the normal pointed loafers)

Spring- Khaki Shorts, Sweat shirt, and a backwards ball cap (it seems a little counterproductive to be warm in a sweatshirt but cool in shorts, but it provides a perfect array of comfortability)

 

Now it really doesn't vary much from that. But, knowing the extended family that I was going to be partying with for the Birth of Christ I would DEFINITELY not have gone with Rhinestones. I'll give this one person credit however; he had the stones to pull it off impeccably, despite the deploring.

At most of these shindigs the alcohol flows like T-pain on a hook *spoken in my gangsta voice*, and this was no exception.

Pre-Swap

When everyone comes to the party they all make their rounds, but if you watch carefully their rounds are made strategically so that it is the most efficient path en route to the Alcohol Hutch (it's not a hutch more a cabinet with liquor on top of it but the word will suffice). All the guys come in holding massive amounts of presents and all of their wives things from the car put them down and proceed to kiss every female family member until they are within fingertips of the drinks, and then the magic happens. The uncorking, unscrewing and top-popping of alcohol and then the fun begins.

Swap Time

The Yankee Swap. This is the loudest, most fun part of the day (for the adults) and it is more alcohol infused than a party at P-Diddy's (is he still going by that?) house. There were 32 people in this year's swap and more alcohol than I had ever seen in one place other than a liquor store. We're talking handle's of Captains (mmm), a fifth of 100 Proof Captains (salivating), and a fifth of 1800 Tequila (coma) just to name a few. Everyone drinks the Captain which is unfortunate because that is my vice, Tiger has blonde's I have Aargh (get it?). So I decided to be unconventional, Theo Epstein if you will, I went with the 1800 which also came with a tub of margarita mix. I was number 11 of 32 and through 31 I was feeling pretty good about myself that I was going to leave with an ass-load of alcohol. Oh did I get the shaft. The 32^nd person to go (not the last because number 1 gets all the fun) decided that they were going to give me a local Chinese/bar gift card and take my bottle. Well see that's all well and good because I like Chinese food but fhat the Wuck, I want to closet drink damn't!

Post-Swap

This is the time where the women folk play with the children and talk about how grown up they are getting, and the men go downstairs after eating too much and refill their drinks. This is not just the casual refill. This is the one where you double your previous drink in attempt to drown out your wife's demands of playing with the kids when there is a football game on, and your just inebriated enough to not drive home so you tell her that you're sobering up so that she doesn't have to drive in the snow. Trust me gents, it works.

The family gatherings are nothing short of a phenomenal time and to cap off another year I couldn't have envisioned a better group of people to spend it with. Now, onto my family's!
I'll have a few stories for you come Xmas day.

Stay Tuned

Ryan

Remember When?

On a morning that started at 4 (Oh, the joys of parenthood) when it should have been 6, twisting my knee because I stepped on a tea-lite and fell to the floor at 5:30AM, the truck wouldn't start because the gas froze, and the split lip (Thanks, Babe!) is bugging the ever-living piss out of me, do you think I'd let that get me down? If you guessed yes, you're right. But I would NEVER want to disappoint my fans who look forward to this here establishment everyday with bated breath. But there isn't much baseball stuff to go down other than the Yankees about to sign Nick Johnson to be their DH. Outloud, I'm saying, "great another productive hitter." Inside, I'm thinking, "well they'll need to go get another bat on April 5^th when Johnson goes down with a SEVERE fingernail contusion." So all I have for you today is a bunch of random thoughts about absolutely nothing of purpose. Ready?

• Is it just me or does John Hensley (or Matt McNamara from Nip/Tuck) look strangely similar to Darren Hayes of Savage Garden?
  
• Does anyone else remember LFO, BB Mak, or O-Town, because I do.
  
• The Top 3 shows from my childhood, in order, were: Captain Planet, VR Troopers, and Boy Meets World.
  
• On the Topic of VR Troopers, it wipes the floor with Power Rangers, and anyone that wants to take the opposing view had better be prepared to duel 'til the death.
  
• 3 Movies you need to see if you haven't: A Clockwork Orange, 25^th Hour, The Orphan.
  
• There's something fishy for lack of a better term about the tragedy surrounding former Bengals Wide Receiver Chris Henry.
  
• If you're bored and enjoy sports stories read this.
  
• Although I'm speculating here *smiles un-knowingly* I am floored with the prospect of reading "60 Feet 6 Inches" by Reggie Jackson and Bob Gibson after Christmas.
  
• Do the Indianapolis Colts have the proverbial "horseshoe" up their ass or what?
  
• I don't think I've ever been more captivated by a television show more than Nip/Tuck, which will tragically come to an end in March.
  
• I used to think Bill Simmons was a god-send, but he strikes me most likely as one of the ESPN Employees who can't keep their dick in his pants because of a little bit of limelight.
  
• I've talked about the peons in the bathroom (pun 100% intended) that can't just give you the appropriate head nod, but what happens when the VP of your company strikes up a conversation, mid-stream? Who's in the wrong here?
  
• Does anyone else drop what they are doing and watch The Jacksons: An American Dream, every time the goddamn thing is on?
  
• Underrated hottie of the week: Anna Kendrick.
  

Stay Tuned

Ryan