Hump Day Catch Up
I see no reason NOT to put Ellsbury in over J.D. Drew if the following things happen:
1. Drew continues to play flatly.
2. The Red Sox advance to the playoffs.
Jacoby made hitting off of Halladay look like a walk in the park. He owned the bases. He was a super stud last night. Can he play right field? Well, they didn't seem to care whether or not Wily Mo could play any old fielding position, right? As long as he was squeezed into the line up. Why would this logic not apply to Ellsbury, who is red hot right now? We want to win, don't we?
All I know is, if management goes against working Jacoby into the line up, and we get eliminated in the playoffs because of some shitty ground out or fly out off of Drew's bat, I will be really pissed. REALLY pissed. I know they won't go with the kid, though. Why? Because it's something that seems logical and clear to me. And my instincts regarding Red Sox decisions are always the opposite of what management does. It's like dealing with my ex-husband.
I was celebrating my friend's birthday during the no hitter. I missed it in real time, but I saw a few key moment's at Jere's parent's place the next day. Glorious.
In office news ... one of my coworkers has been planning her wedding now for what seems like an eternity. Every day, for like the past three years, she can be seen in the hall, on her cell, having a conversation about catering, cakes, floral arrangements or seating charts. She carries a little wedding planner around all the time. Yet, she never leaves the office to get married. She's recently asked us all to donate our used wine corks for some crafty thing she's doing for the reception. I haven't asked her when the big day is. I am afraid to.
Looks like I am going to miss this week's softball game. I think I may have strained a quad muscle or two in my right leg. Oh, Trot Nixon, I literally feel your pain. Every time I think I have a handle on it, I'll get out of my car the wrong way or I'll sprint to cross the street and BAM. It comes right back.
Lastly, I've not made any comment on Michael Vick. Here's the only thing I am going to say: I don't care how *common* dogfighting is where he is from - that is no excuse. It's like saying, "Well, where I come from, tearing the heads off little cats and shoving cat litter down their tiny necks is a weekend activity. With prizes and everything!" Sorry, but inhumanity is inhumanity. I also think that Wonderland is an evil place. I hear that they might be forced into ceasing dog racing activities soon. Thank heavens! Seriously, I have no beef with betting on sports. I don't understand the whole gambling mentality, but I am not against it. It's the cruelty that I have serious objections to.
1. Drew continues to play flatly.
2. The Red Sox advance to the playoffs.
Jacoby made hitting off of Halladay look like a walk in the park. He owned the bases. He was a super stud last night. Can he play right field? Well, they didn't seem to care whether or not Wily Mo could play any old fielding position, right? As long as he was squeezed into the line up. Why would this logic not apply to Ellsbury, who is red hot right now? We want to win, don't we?
All I know is, if management goes against working Jacoby into the line up, and we get eliminated in the playoffs because of some shitty ground out or fly out off of Drew's bat, I will be really pissed. REALLY pissed. I know they won't go with the kid, though. Why? Because it's something that seems logical and clear to me. And my instincts regarding Red Sox decisions are always the opposite of what management does. It's like dealing with my ex-husband.
I was celebrating my friend's birthday during the no hitter. I missed it in real time, but I saw a few key moment's at Jere's parent's place the next day. Glorious.
In office news ... one of my coworkers has been planning her wedding now for what seems like an eternity. Every day, for like the past three years, she can be seen in the hall, on her cell, having a conversation about catering, cakes, floral arrangements or seating charts. She carries a little wedding planner around all the time. Yet, she never leaves the office to get married. She's recently asked us all to donate our used wine corks for some crafty thing she's doing for the reception. I haven't asked her when the big day is. I am afraid to.
Looks like I am going to miss this week's softball game. I think I may have strained a quad muscle or two in my right leg. Oh, Trot Nixon, I literally feel your pain. Every time I think I have a handle on it, I'll get out of my car the wrong way or I'll sprint to cross the street and BAM. It comes right back.
Lastly, I've not made any comment on Michael Vick. Here's the only thing I am going to say: I don't care how *common* dogfighting is where he is from - that is no excuse. It's like saying, "Well, where I come from, tearing the heads off little cats and shoving cat litter down their tiny necks is a weekend activity. With prizes and everything!" Sorry, but inhumanity is inhumanity. I also think that Wonderland is an evil place. I hear that they might be forced into ceasing dog racing activities soon. Thank heavens! Seriously, I have no beef with betting on sports. I don't understand the whole gambling mentality, but I am not against it. It's the cruelty that I have serious objections to.
Labels: Frostbite Softball, Rants, Red Sox
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