Ballin'

Fenway- game one.


It's playoff time. And though you would expect that out of 37,000 giddy people cheering on the Red Sox you would expect that, perhaps, there is a chance that .02 % in attendance may be alien visitors. But I had no time to investigate who was real or not. Game one, Beckett vs. Lackey. What a well pitched game- the excitement, the mile long lines for the bathrooms, the renovated Park dedicate to the rich and suburban, singing of Neil Diamond during the 7th inning---WHY, I had to ask. How can the Red Sox condone Sweet Caroline every every game. The last game I went to (Buchold's no-hitter, no-less) the same song was played. I was told this is a new tradition. Or at least an event attempting to become a tradition. But during this age of blissful censorship and the rape of evolutionary theories I can't help but find the song a bit odd .....
But now I look at the night


And it don't seem so lonely


We fill it up with only two


And when I hurt


Hurtin' runs off my shoulders


How can I hurt when I'm with you



Warm, touchin' warm


Reachin' out


Touchin' me


Touchin' you





Is that poetry? It stings like a plauge when I sing it. The horrible slang, the rhyms for rhymes sake and the Warm touching warm....reads like a frat boy love poem.... Is it better than Bob Dylan. Is this why it chosen.....? WWDW? (what would Dobyans Write?)



Anyways, despite my standing room tickets I witnessed a well pitched "gem". Two home runs and a slice of pizza hut. GO SOX!!! And good luck Rockies, too!!

Tonight Matsuzaka pitches...GAMBATTE!!!