It's a crawl to the finish line.

Not only were they eliminated from the playoffs and have to watch the Yankees AND the Rays play in October, you can add insult to injury with the fact just when I was ready to watch Lester get his 20th win the White Sox lead 8-2 in the 6th.

The season ends Sunday, the last 3 games are with the Yankees, and Mike Lowell is retiring 4 days from now.

Yet I sit here at 10:09 p.m. watching a game that unless a miracle happens is going to result in another loss.

And I coulda watched "The Big Bang Theory".

If anyone knows a good shrink?

Well, I'm all ears.

Better Days

Watched Ken Burns' "The Tenth Inning" tonight and when they got to the 2003 ALCS I got a knot in my stomach the size of Pluto. Yeah, I knew the Boone HR was coming but it still doesn't stop hurting no matter how many times I see it.

And when they got to the 2004 ALCS the knot magically reappeared. Even though I knew they won. And I'd swear that every time I see the Roberts steal of second it gets closer and closer.

What always gets me? Is watching Wake, head hanging down, walk off the field after giving up the home run to Boone. And then I remember him standing on the mound in New York one year later, tears coming out of his eyes while Schilling dumps a beer on his head and then I start getting misty eyed. 'Cause out of every guy who played on that '03 team that had a part in shocking the world I've always felt the best for Timmy.

And tonight, while I watched the same footage I've seen hundreds of time over the last 6 years I realized something.

I realized my kids will never know of a time when the Red Sox HADN'T won the World Series. And so far, not once but TWICE in their lifetimes.

I gotta say.

That is one awesome feeling.

Your 2010 Manager of the Year.

*Image courtesy of Kelly and sittingstill.net*

Honestly?

I have no idea how he did it. Ang and I need pie charts, a laser pointer, 4 leaf clovers and divine intervention to figure out how to get three kids to school in the morning and Tito took a team of castoffs, also rans, and the walking wounded and somehow made it until there were 5 games left in the season before they were eliminated in possibly the toughest division in baseball.

Now mathematically, officially eliminated all the Sox have left to play for is pride and based on how they've played up until this point?

Wouldn't surprise me one bit if they ran the table.

Inconsistent (to say the least) starting pitching, more injuries than the entire filming of "Day's of Thunder" and practically the entire Pawtucket roster making appearances throughout the year and they STILL hung until the final week.

Other than the band of Idiots that won it all in '04 this may be my all time favorite Sox team. Gritty, unknown, and written off for dead by many people (including me) they flat out refused to die and in the end? The numbers game finally ran out.

Unlike 2006, I'm not sad it's over and I'm not sad they won't make the post season. Deep down I knew it when Beckett went on the DL and then Youk and Pedie were gone for the year; but they never, EVER quit.

And there aren't too many teams who could say they would have responded the same way.

So I'm left hoping that Lester gets his 20 wins and Buchholz gets 19 and Beckett can gnaw Posada's larynx out with his bare teeth at some point this weekend. I'll worry about them resigning Beltre and V Mart and if they'll pick up the option on Papi and if Tek will be around another season.

And on Mike Lowell night this coming Saturday it's gonna take everything I've got in me not to cry like a freaking baby when I think about the fact that after this weekend there will be no more cries of "Mikey Two Bags" or "Senor Doubles".

But that's a post for a different day.

Congratulations, fellas.

Job well done.

6 more days until it's Winter.

I admit it. I'm a sucker for the long shot, feel good story.

From the Sox coming back in '04 to the Saints winning the Super Bowl to Trot's quest to finally pee only in the toilet yet come up short every time, I've got a soft spot for the perennial also rans and never was.

Which is why, unless a miracle on the lines of Moses parting the Red Sea or FOX suddenly realizes Ryan Seachrest is the Anti-Christ and the Sox somehow make the playoffs I'll be rooting for the Texas Rangers this fall.

If for no other reason than Ron Washington. If you haven't read about what this cat has been through over the past couple of seasons, you need to give THIS a read.

Yes, I find it somewhat dubious that a middle aged man all of a sudden decides to do cocaine. That is the equivalent of Rakes and Trot deciding to stop hitting each other in the marbles and take up knitting instead.

But like I said, I'm big on second chances. And not only do they have Washington they've got Josh Hamilton and Vladdy and Nolan Ryan and Michael Young and if nothing else?

I want them to send Slappy into the off season with his $300 million dollar contract and go on to win it all without him while he tries to convince himself that HE wasn't the problem there all along.

What can I say?

The thought of the Sox playing Golf in October makes me vindictive.

Sue me.

Nurse, I've got a pulse.

*Image courtesy of Kelly O and www.sittingstill.net*

She may be warming up and ready to go?

But today at The Toilet Jon Lester let everyone know one thing.

They ain't ready to hear The Fat Lady sing just yet.

You're KILLING me, Smalls.

"Sir, I served with Josh Beckett, I knew Josh Beckett, Josh Beckett was a friend of mine. Sir, you're no Josh Beckett."

A 10-1 lead morphs into a 10-8 nail biting, ulcer promoting, pre-heart attack inducing 10-8 win with me sitting in the Lotus position in the bathroom while I create new and unique curse words in between banging my head on the sink.

In other words? A typical Josh Beckett start in the Year of our Lord 2010.

I think for Christmas I'm gonna ask Santa for the Commander of the **** You Brigade to return to Boston in 2011.

If you need me I'll be breathing into a paper bag for the next hour or so.

This? Is What Happens in a "Bridge Year".

Maybe it's because the Red Sox are, in every logical and practical sense, out of it.

Or it could be Trot finally pushed me over the edge and I've at long last lost the final vestige of my sanity.

Worse case scenario? I finally grew up and realized there's more to life than baseball games and beating the Yankees.

Nah, it's either #1 or #2.

For the last couple of years I've been TRYING to keep up with current events that don't involve a box score. (Don't get me wrong; the box score is still the FIRST thing I check each day; I'm just trying to be a little more well rounded.)

And typically my comments on politics have usually been "they're all crooks" and left it at that. But as my kids get older I wonder about what kind of world they'll be living in a few short years from now and are they better off than I was at their age. And the one big thing that scares me to no end is the absolute hatred, racism, bigotry, and class warfare I read about every stinking day.

Two years ago this country elected an African American as President. Yet there are still those who are trying to convince people he's Muslim. In a country, that IN MY LIFETIME had separate water fountains for different races, where there are people screaming to the mountain tops that he was only elected BECAUSE he is black. (Think about THAT one for a minute.)

"Ship 'em all back to Mexico where they belong!" Where my store is located, our clientele is about 50% African American, 25% Hispanic, and 25% white. Yet I actually had someone call me today and ask if the Tea Party candidate for Senate could stage a rally IN OUR PARKING LOT. On a SATURDAY. My first inclination was to ask this person if they were under the influence of heroin but thankfully I thought better of it.

Personally, I could care less if you are a Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, Independent, or from Mars. One of the greatest things about this country is everybody has a right, a natural right, to have their own opinion. If Red Sox and Yankee fans can sit down and break bread together and not end up beating each other into oblivion then anything is possible.

What I DO have issues with is this; to those who trumpet the "Close our borders" anthem while draping themselves in the American Flag and the Bible while they holler about Family Values and scream themselves hoarse about the virtues of America?

A. Do you ever stop to think that OUR ancestors, and not that freaking long ago, got on a boat, in ANOTHER COUNTRY, and sailed across the sea to get here? And that there were people ALREADY LIVING HERE AT THE TIME?

B. The Bible is pretty clear about how God views this whole "Immigration" issue. With many thanks to my buddy Josh for the Scripture (those of you who know Josh? Buy some smelling salts. I'm just sayin'. And don't click on his link if you are easily offended.)

//Leviticus 19:34 (NIV): The alien living with you must be treated as one of your native-born. Love him as yourself, for you were aliens in Egypt. I am the LORD your God.//

//Exodus 22:21 (NIV): Do not mistreat an alien or oppress him, for you were aliens in Egypt.//

I really don't have any idea what my point here is. It's late, I'm exhausted, and I've been sitting here for the last 10 minutes wondering if Trot is going to wake up at 3 a.m. in a puddle of urine and then ask me if he can have a piece of cheese.

What I do know is this; history is littered with examples of the terrible consequences of blindly following the herd and most of the time the squeaky wheel may get the grease.

But it don't mean the grease fixes the problem.

2010: The Year of the Mulligan

Due to massive amounts of injuries, Theo's proclamation last winter about a "bridge year" and good old fashioned bad luck I hereby declare the 2010 MLB season to be one massive DO OVER.

The Sox will be golfing come the playoffs and strangely enough?

I'm OK with that.

But this guy?

(Thanks to Kelly and sittingstill.net for the pic)

And THIS guy?

(Again, thanks to the ever awesome Kelly O' for the shot)

I'd REALLY like to see them come out next year spitting fire, crapping brimstone, and doing their best impression of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday.

If it's not to much to ask.

Woulda, Coulda, Shouda.

I may be totally off base and talking out my rear end, (This is usually the case, btw.) but if we'd had this guy?

(Image courtesy of Kelly O and www.sittingstill.net)

Not to mention this guy?

(Again. Thanks to Kelly and sittingstill.net)

I'm pretty sure the Sox wouldn't be on the outside looking in at the playoffs.

Not to mention the fact I'd probably be able to deal a lot better with THESE guys.

At least that's what I keep telling myself.

11 more games until the start of a long, cold winter.

I wonder how many days it is until Pitchers and Catchers report?

Yet Another Example of Inbreeding Gone Bad.

I just heard about this.

Whenever I read about these morons jumping on the field I always wonder one thing.

What would Manny do?

Pals.

There are a few constants in my life. Throw out Death, Taxes, and the sun coming out tomorrow since they apply to all of us.

My top five are as following:

1. Trot will do SOMETHING over the course of a given day to give my ulcer and ulcer and cause me to ask him "What is WRONG with you?"

2. Ciera will make me laugh. Not smile or smirk or giggle, but full on laugh out loud, usually during her monologue about what happened at school that day when she calls me at 4 p.m.

3. Rakes will ask "Dad, can I tell you something?" This usually involves a question about wrestling or Sponge Bob, but occasionally can include the serious "Why doesn't the Bible mention Dinosaurs?" I usually respond with either "I don't know" or "Ask your Mom".

4. I'll spend at least 5 minutes trying to figure out how the Red Sox can acquire a big bat without giving up anyone more significant than the bat boy. Still working on that one.

5. I'll talk to my buddy Jr every day and my buddy JB at least twice a week.

Funny thing is, I "met" both these guys online at www.survivinggrady.com. And as a parent of a pre-teen I'm very much opposed to "meeting" strangers online. In fact, in her case I'm downright militant about it, going so far as "adopting" a kid from church who most closely resembles a bus as an honorary Dalton to crack some heads if the need should arise.

But when it comes to the other two Amigos?

Let's just say I'm guessing there aren't too many 40 year old's who meet their two best friends online and consider them a brother walking around out there. Especially when one of them is 25 years old and you want to kill him every so often and the other is an 87 year old stubborn mule trapped in a 37 year old's body and they both make you laugh until you have tears running down your face every time you talk to them.

Throw in driving basically across country in a Volkswagon GTI for 5 days and if we didn't kill each other after that?

Fellas? I'm extremely grateful to call you both "Pals" in the strictest "Young Guns" sense of the word.

Here's to next years Road Trip.

May it NOT involve The Trop. Or a micro storm on the highway.

But Arby's is good with me.

40 and Counting.

Found another gray chest hair today.

I wonder why?

Maybe I Should Teach Him The Superkick.

Trot had his first official soccer game this morning and even though I was late to work I made sure I was there for it.

In the span of 40 minutes we covered more ground than Usain Bolt does in the average 100 meter race. There was his first ever goal paired with him laying prostrate on the field at one end while EVERYONE else was down at the other goal. I'm pretty sure he gave every male on his team a shot to the gibleys for some reason, leading his buddy Noah to loudly yell "Would you PLEASE quit hitting me?".

At one point I made him come off the field due to the fact he was trying to do a headstand while the rest of the kids ran right by him, leading to the grand finale of him standing at mid field, clapping his hands and singing Shawn Michael's theme song.

If you don't know this catchy number it repeats, over and over, "I'm just a sexy boy... Boy Toy. I'm not your Boy Toy."

There is absolutely NO WAY I will ever be able to coach any of this child's sports teams.

And the Academy goes to....

http://mlb.mlb.com/video/play.jsp?content_id=12117903

Looks like Captain Intangibles isn't Snow White after all.

I can sort of ignore the incredible acting job Jetes does after the ball HITS HIS BAT and not his arm; in fact, if any professional wrestlers saw this? THAT is how you sell an injury to the public.

It's his complete selling of the injury, to the point the TRAINER comes out and Girardi looks like he's about to toss his cookies over the possible threat his .260 hitting short stop may miss ANY time. I haven't seen acting this good since The Rock told Mick Foley to check himself into the Heartbreak Hotel on Jabroni Drive.

Yes, I just compared the Captain of the vaunted New York Yankees to Stone Cold Steve Austin, The Undertaker, and The Gobbley Gooker.

Lou Gehrig he ain't.

Reality? It bites.

I gotta admit, turning 40 and having Rakes look at me like he is in this picture make me more than a little nervous. It's like he's saying "OK. You're the Dad, I'm the kid, and you're responsible for me being here. Don't screw it up."

Meanwhile, on most days I'm just doing everything I can just to make it until 7 o'clock, where I then rely upon my old standby of just winging it and hoping everything works out.

So tonight, amidst the chaos that is bedtime around here and while the boys were splashing enough water out of the tub to fill up Lake Eerie, I googled "things people accomplished at the age of 40".

Courtesy of www.personalfinancebythebook.com are a few things I found out.

• John Glenn became the first American to orbit the Earth.
• Harriet Beecher Stowe, a mother of six who occasionally wrote for magazines, published Uncle Tom’s Cabin, an antislavery novel of such force that it is generally recognized as one of the causes of the Civil War.
• Jean Eugene Atget, now considered one of the greatest photographers, took up photography.

Glenn orbited the earth and I'm just hoping Trot doesn't decide to take a whiz in the carton of blocks at school. Stowe writes the definitive novel on slavery and Rakes is obsessed with the WWE. Atget takes up photography and I'm freaking out over Ciera someday realizing she likes boys and then I've gotta buy a gun and then I'm pretty sure me, Rakes, and Trot all end up on www.smokinggun.com and Kevin Smith buys the movie rights while I'm in jail and I end up on Maury pleading my case.

Can I just go back to 30 and get a do-over or something?

It's Hard to Say Goodbye

I came to the decision today that I had to bid farewell to an old and dear friend.

This wasn't a decision I came to lightly; it was made after many hours of agonizing, meditating and prayer and it wasn't easy.

My friend and I had been through a lot. Trials, tribulations, road trips to Boston (twice), long nights together agonizing over another Red Sox loss or rejoicing over some late inning comeback win that sent us both to bed deliriously happy. It rode right along with the Three Amigos on our Road Trip adventure and it helped me read books to the boys and put the kids to bed at night.

In fact, when I'd talk about my friend I used the same quote the Bandit used in that all-time classic that if there were any justice would have won the Academy Award in 1977:

"I take my hat off for one thing, one thing only."

I gotta get a new hat. It's got stains on it's stains, FEMA would render it uninhabitable, and I'm pretty sure I saw it move on it's own the other day.

So long, old friend.

I'll never forget you.

Another reason why "Coach Ted" won't be heard anytime soon.

As I watched Trot kick a soccer ball halfway across a baseball infield at practice tonight while his coach blew his whistle like he was trying to stop traffic, I had an epiphany. Or a mini stroke. Not really clear yet, but you get the point.

There is no way, and the Rock means NO WAY I could ever coach him in any athletic endeavor. Until he gets to the point he's not asking his coach about the moon or asking him why his belly was so big or shouting "Hi YAH!" every time he kicked the ball (all three of which happened tonight, by the way.) it's all I can do not to run onto the field and promptly tie him to the goal.

I could care less if he scores a point at this juncture. I just want him to stand still and listen for once. To be fair, Ciera and Rakes spoiled me. Ciera has always gone along to get along and Rakes is so competitive he wants to do well, even if it means knocking down some old lady who happens to get in his way while he's maniacally running through the frozen foods section at Food Lion.

Trot? Well, imagine what Manny Ramirez was like playing little league as a child.

Then give Manny ADD, a pre-disposition to urinating in public, and a voice that the guy who used to host "Soul Train" would envy and THEN give him a pair of shin guards and cleats and all I can say is Good Luck.

His coach is half-way to Sainthood already, and the first game isn't until Saturday.

Let the Mike Shannahan era Commence.

They could go 1-15 for the rest of the year and I'd be a happy man.

Redskins 13, Cowboys 7.

Factor in the Red Sox won and the Yankees AND Rays lost today, and to quote Ice Cube?

Today?

Was a Good Day.

Never Forget.

9 years.

Seems like yesterday.

I don't have any answers. Shoot, I don't even know the reason why it happened but it did. And in the face of one of the greatest tragedies this country has ever seen we rose up. Together.

"Faith, Hope, and Love were some good thing's He gave us. But the greatest is Love".

I'm not a real smart guy. But it seems to me if we'd all practice those three things, maybe, just maybe, things would get a little better.

It sure couldn't hurt.

Hair Metal Never Dies. It Lives On In My Wedding Tape.

I realize by posting this I'm subjecting myself to several round of verbal abuse from Jr and Josh, but I've already rode half way across the country with them in a GTI so I figure it can only go up from there.

This was Ange and my "song" and it was played at our wedding.

Sue me. I'm a child of the '80's.

Besides, it's still true 18 years later so maybe we were on to something.

And yes, the fact the game doesn't start until 10 and Trot and Rakes managed to go the whole day without breaking any laws, destroying any property and made it another day without bringing the whole Mid East Peace Process to a grinding halt definitely played a part in this post.