Saturday night with The Eck.

Even though the Sox are losing 2-0 to the Mariners in the 7th inning (I'm fully expecting a walk off win mind you) and have left approximately 3,578 runners on base so far all, in fact, isn't lost.

Due to Jerry Remy being out on sick leave Hall of Famer Dennis Eckersley has been DO's color man tonight. If you've never heard Eck call a game it's absolutely classic. He's got a porn stache and Danny Partridge's hair cut, blurts out whatever comes into his mind with no filter, has been known to drop a profanity or twelve at a moments notice, and has an "Eckism" for just about everything.

For example:

Moss = hair, Cheese = fastball, etc..

Tonight, talking about Mariner's DH Jack Cust and his strange demotion to AAA by the A's a few years ago, he dropped two new ones. "Beans" which stands for money and "Iron" which apparently also stands for money.

If I do nothing else tomorrow you can rest assured I will do everything humanly possible to work those two words into a sentence the first chance I get.

Now, about that late inning comeback.....

Serenity Now.

I signed up several months back to go on a field trip with Rakes to the Life and Science museum in Durham, NC tomorrow. Spend the day with my son, soak up some Science, and still get back to work for about 5 hours; I was totally looking forward to it.

Until I got home tonight and read the letter his teacher sent home which said the following:

"You will be responsible for your own child as well as others that will be assigned to you. It will be extremely important for you to keep your eyes on all the children you are responsible for at all times. Please know that their safety is your main concern."

Look, I love kids. They crack me up. But I'm like a war veteran walking around my own house; I jump at every noise, go into mild panic attacks every time I hear a toilet flush, and I can't totally relax until everyone is in bed for the night, and even then it's only until about 4 in the morning. I'm a freaking nervous wreck already and now I've got to be responsible for someone ELSE'S kid?

You think they'd get upset if I showed up with 10 feet of rope and some cow bells in the morning?

They grow up too fast.

Trot has kindergarten orientation next week (Don't worry; the Principle goes to church with us and has assured me he's alerted the teachers, law enforcement community and Homeland Security in advance of this fall) and last night Ang was showing him how to say his phone number, address, his ABC's and how to draw a picture of himself.

Being that they want the kids to not draw a stick figure but draw arms, hands, fingers, ears, etc... Ang was telling him to draw everything he had on his body.

You probably see where this is going......

In the most excited voice he uses this side of Christmas morning or his birthday, my little Dennis the Menace yells out "And now I can draw my WEENIE!!!"

May God have mercy on his poor Kindergarten teachers soul.

Running in Place.

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

Typo went 6 plus, gave up 4 runs, and the Sox lose 4-1.

Yankees lose 3-2 behind two back to back lose your mind catches by the White Sox LF.

Trot has now gone 4 straight nights without peeing the bed.

He's also been wearing a pull up so I don't know how much to look into it.

In both cases?

It all evened out.

I'll take my moral victories wherever I can get 'em.

Off Day's Stink

Let me use this off day from Red Sox baseball to say, once again, that I love Kevin Millar.

Especially satisfying is the conversation he has with the CHB before Game 4.

Dan Shaughnessy can go pound sand.

One game away from .500 and 3 back of New York. Carl Crawford is hitting, the pitching is dealing, and Adrian Gonzalez will be manning first base for the next 6 years.

Who cares if Trot couldn't pee in the toilet if his life depended on it?

Sox Nation!

Yin and Yang. And Carl.

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

I woke up in the middle of the night, rolled over to check the time on my phone, and there was a white screen with the words "resubmit" on it. This was about 3 a.m., or 30 minutes before Trot decided to wake up and see what the Easter Bunny brought them so I decided I could go without knowing the exact time; it was still dark after all.

The next 4 hours brought Trot and then Rakes down the stairs and finally around 6:30 Ang just said "Fine. Go see what you got; just let us sleep." I'd checked my phone again each time and got the same results, so once I got up I hit "resubmit". Again. And again. And again.

I took the battery out, put it back in. Got online to see what was wrong. Finally after church, my brother in law (who works for Sprint/Nextel) tells me I have to re-load all the stuff which means I'm losing ALL my numbers. (If you have my phone number, please text me yours; I know about 10 off the top of my head and that is IT.)

So I'm watching the Sox/Angels series finale while downloading this crap and it takes about 2 hours total. Rakes and Trot are playing on the WI at the top of their lungs, I'm losing my mind with this phone and the only thing that keeps me from chucking it out the window?

Carl Freaking Crawford hits his first home run of the season and the Sox sweep the Angels and are now one game away from being .500 for the year.

Don't let anyone ever tell you the little things don't matter.

For Me? This is Easter.

Your sins are erased
And they are no more
They're out on the ocean floor

Good Friday. Or Our Version Of It.

I left work a few minutes early tonight to get to church for a Good Friday service. Ang was singing, Ciera and Rakes were in the congregation, and Trot was SUPPOSED to be in a class in back.

Upon arriving however, I discovered there was in fact NO CLASS for him and he was in the Sanctuary which immediately ratcheted my level of difficulty for the evening up to 11. First thing I did was put Rakes on one end, Ciera next to me, and Trot on the other side; divide and conquer being the first rule in parental warfare.

As we all stood for the first scripture reading and I heard some random noise, my first thought was somebody had left their cell phone volume up and was getting a call. Took me a few seconds to realize it was coming from Rakes DS, where he was merrily playing "Call of Duty". With the VOLUME ON.

After getting that problem seen to, I turned to my left and Trot was laid out on the floor, under the pew in front of us trying to retrieve the breath mint he'd tossed underneath. By this point my mind is totally off what is going on at church and I'm just trying not to jerk him up by the back of his pants; Ciera laughing at him didn't help.

All was calm for the next few minutes; Ciera gave Trot her Mom's cell phone to play a game and it worked like a charm.

Until the battery died and he LOUDLY let me know "DAD. THE BATTERY DIED!"

We somehow made it through the hour long service without Trot or Rakes bursting into flames or me stroking out and Trot's teacher, Mrs. Karen (who was sitting behind us) told Ang afterword's that Trot was, I quote, "wonderful".

You gotta love a teacher.

Sox and Angels in another 10 p.m. start tonight and I'm already starting to resemble a rabid raccoon but I'll try my best to stay up again for the whole thing.

Although if they wanted to throw up a 10 run lead by the 4th inning I wouldn't exactly complain.

What child labor laws?

Ang had a hair appointment today, the kids are out of school for Spring Break, it takes roughly 3 hours to color your hair (who knew?) and there was no way in the name of the ghost of Ted Williams I was leaving Heckle and Jeckle home with their big sister.

So Trot went to my Mom's, Ciera stayed home, and Rakes went to work with me for about 7 hours today.

He vacuumed the rug, helped clean the warehouse, and at one point was walking around with a tape measure asking random customers to "Let me know if you need something measured."

We also had to go look up a price for someone and when I inadvertently said the wholesale price I had to practically tackle him before he told the lady and gotten me fired. Apparently 7 year old boys don't understand the concept of "retail pricing".

His highlight of the day? Well, other than finding about 20 allen wrenches on the warehouse floor, riding a dolly around like a skateboard, and opening the cash register up was when my boss announced him as "Helper of the Day" and gave him a 6 foot tall motorcycle race trophy our store sponsored a few years back.

If you could zoom in you'd see all those allen wrenches carefully arranged on the bottom of it, along with one of my business cards and for some reason?

A Spanish coin.

Anyways, Sox/ Angels @ 10:00 tonight and Beckett on the mound.

Let the carnage commence.

If it was easy? Everyone would do it.

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

He once wore a Bud Light 12 pack box as a hat.

Clue #1 that he isn't your average closer.

Sox win 5-3, Paps makes it... interesting, and the boys get their first road win of the season. On to L.A. and the Angels where more 10 p.m. starts are waiting.

Good thing Trot is back to wetting the bed at night.

At least I'll already be up to change his sheets.

I'm Getting Too Old For This.

Gotta love the West Coast road trips.

10 p.m. starts = Ted is mainlining Mt. Dew's for the next week or so.

Let's hope the boys come back to Fenway over .500.

On a positive note everyone will be sound asleep by Opening Pitch which means I get to watch the game/fall asleep on the sofa in peace and quiet.

A Man Named Jed

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

He looks like the guy who does your taxes every year and reminds you to donate all your old clothing to Goodwill because it's a tax write off AND it helps people.

Take away the beard and he looks the kid of the guy who does your taxes that delivers your paper every morning.

Today? He outhit the entire Blue Jays team and is busting along at a .533 clip, forcing Tito to sit Marco Scutaro on the netherworld of the bench.

As long as the man named Jed keeps raking, Scutaro can pick splinters out of his backside until October.

5-10 and in the Yankees rear view mirror.

Here.

They.

Come.

My own little Field of Dreams

After the Sox beat the Blue Jays today (Behind a STRONG performance by Jon Lester and some thump from the bats. Thank God.) I took the boys outside to play some baseball.

Normally this consists of glorified batting practice with me throwing a tennis ball (I figure over the next several years both the boys will tick off most of the neighbors in one way or another; no need to have a baseball flying through their front window to start it.) while Rakes swings for the fences and Trot pulls every thing into the front yard. Today was more of the same, until Trot decided he wanted to go inside and Rakes grabbed my glove and his and asked "Can we practice catching?"

So there we were, for the next 45 minutes or so, just a Dad and his son having a catch.

It's moments like those that make up for the fact that with each year he gets older my blood pressure rises by another 10 points.

Schilling Redux?

Remember back in '04 when it seemed like every time the Sox HAD to win the Big Schill stepped up to the plate? Using my scientifically proven method of pulling stats out of thin air I estimate this phenomenon happened about 4,588 times that year.

Wasn't just with the Sox, though. In Philadelphia and Arizona both, when somebody needed to step up, boot the big boy boots on, and be The Stopper, Curt Schilling did it. Early in his career Schilling had brief moments of greatness but until he finally figured it all out there wasn't anyone who thought he'd turn into one of the better pitchers of his era and a close but probably not enough Hall of Famer.

See where I'm trying to go here?

Today, Josh Beckett stepped up. Again. Just like he did last Sunday night against the Yankees after a beat down the night before, The Commander saved the day.

Look, I'm not comparing him to Schill. Yet. But he keeps pitching this way?

This team has a Stopper.

At 3-10?

It's a start.

My Version of Twiddling my Thumbs

The kids are asleep, the Red Sox have the night off (When I first saw the schedule I was IRATE they were having a day off this early. Now? I'm pretty sure it's keeping me from losing what's left of my mind.) and Ang apparently can't stay awake past 10 p.m.

So I'm left to my own devices.

Which means "Deadliest Catch" on the television, muttering to myself about lineup changes, texting Rich during the Bruins game and "Two and a Half Men" searches on youtube.

I think I'm ready for the resumption of regular scheduled baseball programming tomorrow night.

Going off the Rails on the Crazy Train

*Image courtesy of Tonyhawk.com*

The Red Sox are 2-9, Trot can't stop peeing in everything BUT the toilet, Ciera has gone from my baby girl to a sullen, moody teenager apparently overnight and Rakes has once again started stammering in a way that makes Mel Tillis look like the poster child for perfect diction.

I fell like I'm at the top of Nob Hill, sitting in a Radio Flyer Red Wagon with no seat belt, no cushion at the end, and Jr standing behind me yelling "Remember the Alamo!" at the top of his lungs.

In other words?

I'm totally screwed.

Trot the Menace

This is a fake tree/bush in our foyer. Nothing special about it, just a piece of greenery Ang bought to fill a hole and make the room look, I don't know, green. I only bring it up because of this:

Trot peed in it today.

No particular reason; his Mom (I'm sure with extreme calm; I was at work so I'm just guessing.) asked him why and his response?

"I thought it needed to be watered".

This next picture will show the tree/bush and it's proximity to the nearest bathroom.

That's the bathroom on the left.

TWO FEET AWAY.

Do they sell Zanax over the counter?

I'm a Hopeless Romantic. Or an Idiot. It Could Go Either Way.

I'm watching the Rays beat the Sox 16-4 and hoping for the first ever 13 run comeback inning.

I may have finally lost it.

He's Josh Beckett. And You're Not.

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

8 innings.

No runs.

1 walk, although that was due to him hitting Russell Martin which really shouldn't count as a walk but a public service.

10 K's.

If he wasn't married I'd half-way expect him to walk up to Jeter's girlfriend, grab her by the hand, and tell Captain Intangible's he'd see her in the morning.

Keep polishing those pennies, Jr.

I'm still in it.

Well, It's All Right.

My buddy Sean, A die-hard lifelong Yankee fan called me today as soon as the game ended. Being that the Yankees won 9-4 and sent the Sox to a 1-7 record for the year I expected some gloating. Maybe a shot at the vaunted line up or at the very least some sort of dig about playing catch up for the rest of the year.

Much to my surprise? None of that. He mentioned the bats were coming around, how much he admired Tim Wakefield, and stated that when our pitching started pitching like it would it was going to be a dogfight to the end.

Moral of the story?

When the biggest Yankee fan you know, even AFTER your team falls to 1-7, says they're gonna be OK?

They are gonna be OK.

Off the Schnide and Running.

*Image courtesy of Jamison Odone and bostondirtdogs.com*

Forget that 6 game fiasco to start the season; THIS was the Red Sox team we all had been waiting to see, minus the John Lackey batting practice session. Pedie talked the talk and then walked the walk, the bats woke up, and the 'pen showed why this team should scare the living beejeesus out of every team in the American League.

It's only 1 win, but by God it's a start.

TIme to Fish or Cut Bait.

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

"You're either two feet in now or you're two feet out. Let us know now because we're coming"--- Dustin Pedroia.

I'll also throw this in, a text from my MFY buddy right after the game ended: "I hope your bats stay dead but I've got a bad feeling they're fixing to come alive against us. They're too good to stay this bad much longer".

They were the first to ever come back from 0-3 to win the ALCS and they'll be the first to open 0-6 to win the World Series.

'Cause that's just how they roll.

It's Always Darkest Before The Dawn.

No team has ever started 0-4 and won the World Series.

Before 2004, no team had ever gone 0-3 in the ALCS and come back.

I'm pretty sure I remember a "Andy Griffith" episode that said no deputy who put his bullet in his pocket ever amounted to anything, yet if I say the name "Barney Fife" I'm pretty sure some 12 year old in Uganda would shout out "I know that guy!"

0-5 sucks. No doubt about it.

But don't let us win tomorrow. We've got Lester, then Lackey, then Buch, and then Beckett. A wise man, well Red at Surviving Grady, once said: "Every team will win 50 and lose 50. It's what they do with that other 62 that matters."


Get busy living or get busy dying.

I'm betting they take the former.

My Life Needs a Bleep Button.

After a long day at work and a migraine pressing on my skull I entered my house tonight to find Ren and Stimpy playing with permanent magic markers.

On the living room floor.

After reading them the riot act and trying to eat some dinner I went upstairs to see what they were doing/destroying. As I entered Rakes' room I heard Trot utter the following sentence:

"Rakes. I'm donna tick your a*%."

Momentarily stunned, I managed to ask where he had heard that particular phrase. After he blamed his sister, his friend Salvatore, and somehow Tom and Jerry (I KNEW this one was false; the fact they don't actually talk gave it away) Rakes finally admitted it was from a video game called "Pain" they play at their Grandfather's house on the PS3.

I'm now having visions of his teacher telling him to get in his seat and the expletives just flying in response.

Either that or they both end up on "Jackass: The Next Generation" in about 10 years.

2011: The Year of The Commander. Or "Polish those Pennies, Jr."

*Video NSFW*

0-3 is not the way Theo and Tito imagined starting the season. Mind you, I don't know this for a fact since I'm not a clubhouse insider like apparently most of the free world is. They'll tell you that it's all Salty's fault and Crawford is a bum and Theo is an idiot who should have signed Russell Martin, etc.... I mean, all of a sudden everyone is an expert and I'm wondering when I missed the memo inviting ME into the inner circle.

My friend Kelly said it best; going into Texas to play the 2010 AL Champs on Opening Weekend? 1 out of 3 would have been fantastic. It's OPENING WEEKEND. This isn't the NFL where 1 loss can ruin your year or the NCAA Tournament where you lose and go home; it's baseball. A game played out over 6 months and it's 162 games long and this team is too talented and too stocked to not be there at the end. So, would everyone take a deep breath and JUST CALM DOWN?

That said, Josh Beckett takes the hill tomorrow night. And I don't care how many stats you throw out or how he hasn't been the same guy since '07 or how he's not an ace, it's Cleveland. The same place that flew in an ex of his to sing the National Anthem before a must win game in the playoffs in '07. Judging by that video, they aren't exactly his favorite opponent.

And last year? When they tried to hit Papi and then threw behind Beltre and the benches cleared? For a little while it was your typical benches-clearing baseball event, with everyone standing around and asking about each others mother and comparing recipe's for Western Omlettes.

To quote the great Don Orsillo?

"All appeared calm until Beckett arrived."

Beckett arrives tomorrow in Cleveland.

Mojo Changer

Change the picture in the header = Change the Luck for the Sox.

On to the rest of the season.

My day started out with me going to Walmart and picking up Trot's Birthday cake, some balloons, and a co-present for him and Rakes; a basketball goal.

I should let you know now it once took me 8 hours to put a grill together, so the thought of tackling this thing didn't exactly leave me all warm and fuzzy.

2 hours in and I had to stop to go to the roller skating rink for 3 hours of bumps, bruises, several near misses, and more Toto than I'd heard in the last 20 years. (Are skating rinks so dated they can't play new music? The closest thing to "new" I heard was a Kenny Chesney song from at LEAST 6 years ago.) The boys fell so many times I'm requiring them to wear jeans tomorrow just so the school won't call Social Services in for an investigation.

We made it through the party and even though I came close on numerous occasions to turning into Richard Pryor I somehow managed to get the goal up and I ended the day playing hoops with my boys in the driveway.

I also missed the Sox game although Jr kept me updated throughout. (Thanks again, Gilligan.)

Come September we won't even remember Opening Weekend and the boys will be right in the thick of it so I'm not sweating the 0-3 start too much.

But it'd do my heart good to know Dustin Pedroia went on a 10 minute, expletive laden rant in the clubhouse after today's game, complete with a water cooler left in ruins in his wake.

I'm Superstitious. But Even I Have My Limits.

I was working yesterday, missed the game, and the Sox lost.

I was home tonight and it's the 5th inning and the Sox are losing 11-3.

Trot has his skating party tomorrow for his birthday so I'll miss that game as well.

Let me just say this now: If they win tomorrow I am NOT, under any circumstances, going skating with Trot every day from here on out.