First, I have to say the LBJ has it exactly right.
I just got back from spending two lovely days in Connecticut, with friends who include an older guy, a recent cancer survivor, and lifelong Sox fan.
He's also a little deaf, hence we had to have the volume on his incredible, curved TV hiked way up, to listen to most of Friday and Saturday's games at top volume as we sipped gins-and-tonic in a most civilized fashion.
Worst of all, he's a really nice guy, and so he and his would try to say nice, helpful things whenever the sheer agony I was feeling.
"Well, you know, it's just not the Yankees' night.
"Ha-ha! I guess not!"
Rictus grin still securely on face.
"Another gin-and-tonic?"
"Yes, please! On second thought...did I say anything about fucking tonic??? Just give me the gin! Hand it over!"
I don't know that I shall ever recover.
The Sox broadcast trio—always shot from that perspective; usually we get to see Eck's bald spot—was absolutely arrogant, and spot on, all game long, Friday and Saturday.
They not only regularly called hits and when (Yankees) pitchers should be pulled out, they were completely incredulous about the Yanks' pitch selection.
Typical comment on Paxton:
"Geez, he's gettin' everybody out with that cutter. Why's he keep throwin' that big fat fastball right down the middle? Oh, now he's getting mad! He got it up to 98—but right down the middle!
Ball leaves park or bangs off left field wall.
Shot of Paxton's sepulchral face as he turns and trudges back up the mound.
At other times it turned to pure mockery, as when Judge dropped a ball in right field at a key moment on Friday: "Mookie woulda put that in his pocket!"
JM was right. Surely that park was built right on the portal of Chthulu into this world. Of course, back in the day, Chthulu used to be our friend. Now...
Sunday, July 28, 2019
The horror...the horror...
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8 comments:
It has not been our finest hour on any front. Mets are getting Stroman, so I won what rabbit Brian is going to pull out of his hat.
Wonder
Encarncacion now has an OPS of .848. When Frazier was sent down, he had an OPS of .843 and is twelve years younger, is a much faster runner, has the potential to be a plus defender (great arm and speed)--all UNLIKE Encarnacion. Great move, Cashman! The karma of Red Thunder will cost the Yankees this season--just keep piling up the aging junk, you idiot, on the mound and in the lineup, and see how far it gets you.
CC now on IL. Knee. Of course.
Romine!
HC66:
I'm with ya on the gin, buddy.
I tried to distill all that I heard this weekend into one memorable exchange among the announcers but, you're right, the NESN broadcast crew were calling out the Yankee pitchers and catchers on pitch selection all weekend. I'd normally say that's deplorable on the part of away team broadcasters, BUT THEY WERE RIGHT. They're just baseball guys who could see the obvious to which Larry "anal/cranial inversion" Rothschild is somehow blind.
Frustrating, frustrating, frustrating.
I'm so glad that somebody else witnessed that, LBJ. I thought I was going mad. The announcers on the other team are CORRECTLY second-guessing us on every aspect of the game?
Uh-boy.
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