Hoot, mon! Back from Scotland! And bravo, Mustang, for bloggin' in the sheaves. Did he Wally Pip me?

Six days, seven nights, with but a wee daily smidgen of magic Internet dust - while A-Rod dangled over the boggy precipice, Jete burned the peat, and C.C. turned into Benny Hill. Nevertheless, each night, before I tumbled past the drawbridge for my mutton and porridge, I would chance upon Mustang's daily posting and say, "By God, that grinnin' laddie Jackobite has done it again!"

Just as Kourtney Kardashian - aka "the Ben Francisco of the Kardashian family" - managed to lose 40 pounds, so that she can done the bikini and strut the beach in style, keeping the brand name afloat while sister Kim feverishly works the Stairmaster, so did Mustang amp up his game and maintain this blog's position in the imaginary Yankiverse Wild Card race.

Alphonso, on the other hand, was off on his own walkabout. Typical. He's Travis Halfner to me. He's bad haggis. Oh for 20 with runners on base.

Looks like everything is coming to a head, perhaps today. Strap on your water wings, laddies. We're going to try a water landing.