Some random notes:

It has been a couple of busy weeks since I last posted here. Much has been going on in Bombertown and in Tfabp-city, so I have neglected to write much but time is here, time is wasting and I have a few things to say. Here goes:

-Two weeks ago, the Yanks were doing poorly, losing a bunch of games, blowing leads, fielding badly, etc., etc. Since the trade for Ichiro, they have gone on a bit of a tear, lately winning like 8 of their last 9 games. Coincidence? Perhaps but don’t fool yourself, he has made an impact at bat, in the field, and I'm guessing, in the clubhouse. Just the fact that he has his own media entourage from Japan, means the reporters are concentrating more on him then writing stories about Tex’s struggles, the poor hitting with men in scoring position, and a bit of a blip in the bullpen. Without this constant media scrutiny, they have taken off. Unlike one of their biggest rivals. More on that below!

- King Felix of the Seattle Mariners threw a perfect game last night. He is an incredible talent. But, This isn’t a Len Barker, Mike Witt, Dallas Braden or even Don Larsen perfecto, this is more like a Randy Johnson, Sandy Koufax or Roy Halliday one. By this I mean instead of us asking how could THAT guy pitch a perfect game, we are asking today, why did it take so long for him to get one and when will he get another.

Yankees go tonight for a sweep of their anticipated playoff match, the Texas Rangers. I know games in August mean little in October but there has to be some confidence building in the Yanks and doubt setting in for the Rangers.

- There is nothing, NOTHING more enjoyable for me in baseball terms than when the Yankees beat the Red Sox. Make it a 3 game sweep and I start to hyperventilate. Make it in the playoffs and well, you’ll just have to guess how excited I get. I mean still today when I watch replay number 1.4 million of the Billy Buckner flub, I get tears in my eye, tears of joy. Right up there in this emotional apocalypse is watching the Sox crash and burn, watching them self-destruct. Last year, in beer and fried chickengate, when the club’s veteran players showed just how they led and they fell out of the playoffs entirely, I thought I had reached nirvana. I found myself listening to Boston Sports radio for the latest fan rant, I read the Red Sox fan blog “SOSH” every day to see the fans writing about choking and dismantling the club and just how bad they were. Over the winter, the Sox hired Bobby Valentine to be their manager and I knew, KNEW, that the match had been lit. All we needed was a small can of gas and they would burn again. Well it seems that the team was standing in line, holding a gas can waiting to tip it over. There was Youk and Bobby V, Becket and the V-ber, Crawford and Bobby V, and most recently Pedroia, Gonzolas vs. Bobby V, in the Mega Death Match, complete with damning tweets, photoshopped pictures and angry players and ownership in super duper top secret hotel meetings to trash Bobby V together. What does this all mean? Two things I think. It will be a while before the Sox compete again in the American League and to rob and paraphrase a poetic line or two:

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Boston – the mighty Red Sox have struck out.

See you in a few days!

You’ll recognize me, I’m the one with the shit-eating grin on my face… (Wiki: A broad smile indicating self-awareness that may suggest self-satisfaction, (or) smugness.