Showing posts with label The Fall Is Gonna Kill Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Fall Is Gonna Kill Me. Show all posts

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Shhhhh.


What? You want to tempt the wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing?

No.

Then go outside, turn around three times and spit.



I do love me some Toby Zeigler.








Sox are up 7 - 1 in the top of the 8th. Shhhhh. (I've updated this score twice in the time it took me to find and post that picture. I'm whooping a very small whoop.)

Thursday, September 20, 2007

An Open Letter To The Red Sox Organization


Dear Mr. Francona,
A 1.5 game lead? 1.5??? We had 14.5 games on the *spit* Yankees and you've pissed it all away. And listen, I know you want to give Eric Gagne a chance, but for the sake of my blood pressure, could you just not use him when the game is on the line? Don't turn into Grady Little on me.

Thank you.

With much nervousness,
Major Bedhead


Dear Mr. Farrell,
Could you please explain to me how someone of Okijima's caliber can become out of shape during the season? How is that possible? Is he scarfing down Fenway Franks on the side? Channeling Babe Ruth? Could you maybe give him a salad and start him on an exercise program?

Read the rest ovah heyah.