Krist.
I love the Blogger application but I'm struggling with some formatting as is witnessed in Matt Bechard's "Manny Being Manny" story. The jagged copy lines are a dead giveaway that somehow I've fucked something up--again. The same thing goes for applying video and pictures on this thing. I checked out some other blogs on Google and The Daily Del Franco can stand a lot of improvement. My goal is to put my stand-up performances on here, such as the time I did three solid minutes at Caroline's. Talk about a tight set. Whatever doesn't kill me, makes me funnier.
Friday, August 1, 2008
High School Reunion Approaching...
Normally, I'd avoid these types of events like a dental visit. I've developed a solid reputation for the blow-off. "Sure I'll be there," I say, knowing full well there's no way in hell I'm showing up. In fact, here's what I'm thinking: There's two ways I'm attending: No way and no fucking way.
But for some reason, I'm actually looking forward to it. Making matters more interesting is that I don't exactly have my A-game working these days. Far from it. Put it this way: If life were a hand of Blackjack, Fate would be dressed as a smiling Asian dealer sent by the House to muck up my cards. And the cards would fall thusly: Ace follwed by ("Come on face card, face card, face card.") 5....Shit. How to make this work? Yes, my life lately is a soft 16.
(And BTW, the movie "21"...What a huge disappointment. Kevin Spacey was typically great. I can watch Spacey act a grocery list ...Other than Spacey the movie sucked. I hate to say it, the book was better.)
Could be worse: I could be fat or balding. You can't hide your physique. And I still maintain my razor sharp wit and caustic sensibilities.
Question for you all: Is blogging your High School reunion gay or just pathetic? The former strikes me such.
But for some reason, I'm actually looking forward to it. Making matters more interesting is that I don't exactly have my A-game working these days. Far from it. Put it this way: If life were a hand of Blackjack, Fate would be dressed as a smiling Asian dealer sent by the House to muck up my cards. And the cards would fall thusly: Ace follwed by ("Come on face card, face card, face card.") 5....Shit. How to make this work? Yes, my life lately is a soft 16.
(And BTW, the movie "21"...What a huge disappointment. Kevin Spacey was typically great. I can watch Spacey act a grocery list ...Other than Spacey the movie sucked. I hate to say it, the book was better.)
Could be worse: I could be fat or balding. You can't hide your physique. And I still maintain my razor sharp wit and caustic sensibilities.
Question for you all: Is blogging your High School reunion gay or just pathetic? The former strikes me such.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Manny No Longer Manny
By Matt Bechard
It's over. Whether or not Manny Ramirez is traded today or stays in
Boston, the era of Manny Being Manny is finished. All things must pass,
and so to does the ability of Boston fans to shrug and smile at the
quirkiness of their beloved prodigious slugger.
It was one thing when we knew there would be about a week or two of
Manny Being Demanding, asking to be shipped out of the town where he
became universally worshipped. We knew once the deadline passed we would
get the Manny shoulder shrug, hands raised like "who me?" and he would
continue hitting.
It was one thing when we knew there would be a handful of cases of
Manny Being Lazy, not running out balls, turning doubles into singles,
misplaying balls memorably in left field. We knew after something
clicked in his head we'd see him going first to third, baiting runners
and throwing them out and hustling as best as a grown man in baggy pants
can.
It was one thing when we knew there would be some loopy Manny Being
Whacky moments, running into the Monster to pee during a pitching
change, running onto the field with the flag after gaining citizenship,
and too many zany quotes to count. We knew these were just part of a
true eccentric and we even embraced them like you would an elderly uncle
who still wears clothes from the 1970s and talks to plants.
This was all Manny Ramirez, Manny Being Manny if you will. Let me be
clear, Boston would not have own two World Series without him. In part
it was having a cornerstone player so ambivalent to curses and pressure
that helped the 2004 team overtake the Yankees in historic fashion and
shatter so many decades of frustration. He is a character, he is a
Hall-of-Famer, he is a presence, but most of all he is a hitter. And for
the past eight years in Boston that is what he has done, and he has done
it splendidly. And because of that the fans of Red Sox Nation have
embraced him like the other greats before him, maybe even more so
because of all the eccentricities that came with him and how much he was
disliked and chastised by fans of other teams. The Nation cheered him,
defended him and adored him.
But these last few weeks have been something else. I can never judge
when someone is hurt or not. But I can judge when someone doesn't care.
And maybe Manny is not hustling, taking games off, mouthing off and
generally being a brat in order to force a trade, but it is clear he
doesn't care about the team's performance or the fans in the seats and
at home. This is the first time in his Boston tenure that I truly
believe that Manny is letting the distractions impact his play, and it
isn't pretty to watch.
For the first time in his eight years I think the sentiment among fans
is starting to shift. In past years I think there would have been an
uproar if Manny was traded, even more than when Nomar and Pedro left
town. But those two examples taught fans that this management team is
smart and sometimes it is just time to move on. And when you know that
what you are getting out of a player, even a great player, is only 70%,
then saying goodbye becomes a little easier.
Will a trade happen? Who knows. Will Jason Bay or whoever replace the
offense of Manny? Probably not. But this is more than an A+B=C equation.
A player coming to Boston with something to prove combined with 24 other
players fighting and pulling together to show this deal doesn't make
them worse could be a powerful combo. And if Manny is dealt, to Florida
or wherever, I think there is a good chance he may have the best two
months of his career.
And if he did, well, that would just be more Manny Being Manny.
This is the first piece by Matt Bechard for TDD. He proudly lives, of course, in Red Sox Nation.
It's over. Whether or not Manny Ramirez is traded today or stays in
Boston, the era of Manny Being Manny is finished. All things must pass,
and so to does the ability of Boston fans to shrug and smile at the
quirkiness of their beloved prodigious slugger.
It was one thing when we knew there would be about a week or two of
Manny Being Demanding, asking to be shipped out of the town where he
became universally worshipped. We knew once the deadline passed we would
get the Manny shoulder shrug, hands raised like "who me?" and he would
continue hitting.
It was one thing when we knew there would be a handful of cases of
Manny Being Lazy, not running out balls, turning doubles into singles,
misplaying balls memorably in left field. We knew after something
clicked in his head we'd see him going first to third, baiting runners
and throwing them out and hustling as best as a grown man in baggy pants
can.
It was one thing when we knew there would be some loopy Manny Being
Whacky moments, running into the Monster to pee during a pitching
change, running onto the field with the flag after gaining citizenship,
and too many zany quotes to count. We knew these were just part of a
true eccentric and we even embraced them like you would an elderly uncle
who still wears clothes from the 1970s and talks to plants.
This was all Manny Ramirez, Manny Being Manny if you will. Let me be
clear, Boston would not have own two World Series without him. In part
it was having a cornerstone player so ambivalent to curses and pressure
that helped the 2004 team overtake the Yankees in historic fashion and
shatter so many decades of frustration. He is a character, he is a
Hall-of-Famer, he is a presence, but most of all he is a hitter. And for
the past eight years in Boston that is what he has done, and he has done
it splendidly. And because of that the fans of Red Sox Nation have
embraced him like the other greats before him, maybe even more so
because of all the eccentricities that came with him and how much he was
disliked and chastised by fans of other teams. The Nation cheered him,
defended him and adored him.
But these last few weeks have been something else. I can never judge
when someone is hurt or not. But I can judge when someone doesn't care.
And maybe Manny is not hustling, taking games off, mouthing off and
generally being a brat in order to force a trade, but it is clear he
doesn't care about the team's performance or the fans in the seats and
at home. This is the first time in his Boston tenure that I truly
believe that Manny is letting the distractions impact his play, and it
isn't pretty to watch.
For the first time in his eight years I think the sentiment among fans
is starting to shift. In past years I think there would have been an
uproar if Manny was traded, even more than when Nomar and Pedro left
town. But those two examples taught fans that this management team is
smart and sometimes it is just time to move on. And when you know that
what you are getting out of a player, even a great player, is only 70%,
then saying goodbye becomes a little easier.
Will a trade happen? Who knows. Will Jason Bay or whoever replace the
offense of Manny? Probably not. But this is more than an A+B=C equation.
A player coming to Boston with something to prove combined with 24 other
players fighting and pulling together to show this deal doesn't make
them worse could be a powerful combo. And if Manny is dealt, to Florida
or wherever, I think there is a good chance he may have the best two
months of his career.
And if he did, well, that would just be more Manny Being Manny.
This is the first piece by Matt Bechard for TDD. He proudly lives, of course, in Red Sox Nation.
Farnsworthless Shipped Out!
All Hail Brian Cashman! Why? Because he found another general manager desperate enough to take relief pitcher Kyle Farnsworthless. The hard-throwing righty threw nearly 100 mph...but could never get the necessary movement--or late-innning outs--to satisfy Yankee fans. A friend used to describe his basketball days as playing on the "thirty-team" --meaning he wouldn't see minutes unless his team was up or down by 30. That's how I'll forever think of Farnsworth--regardless of the Chicago Kool-aid Girardi made us all drink. Good riddance, Kyle. Need a lift to the airport?
In celebration of Farny's exit, here's a list of recent ex-Yankees who didn't quite fit the "Great Yankee" description. Curiously, the five that immediately come to mind are pitchers.
5. Kevin Brown--Game 7 2004 ALCS. Before late arriving fans settle into their seats, Brown departs in the first innning giving way to Javier Vazquez who gave up Johnny Damon's grand-slam. Here is what Brown did for me: jack-shit.
4. Randy Johnson--Granted, The Big Unit won 34 games over two seasons, but we never saw the same Freak of Nature who sported an 18-2 record for Seattle in 1995. In fact, Johnson loses more points in my book for having worse acne than anyone this side of former Panamanian strongman Manuel Noriega.
3. Carl Pavano--You know you have an image problem when the New York Post dubs you "American Idle." It serves the Yankees right. They insist on signing a guy after his career year. Having a buttocks injury won't win any points with fans who think you sit on your ass all day.
2. Ed Whitson--Remember him? This nutjob was so paranoid of being bood at home, the Yankees would only pitch him on the road. Signed after his career year after 1983(Sound familiar?), he famously brawled with manager Billy Martin in Texas. After more careful consideration, perhaps Eddie Lee had reason: Some fans took to leaving thumb tacks in Whitson's driveway hoping to derail the pitcher on his way to the Stadium.
1. Roger Clemens--Adjectives descring Clemens' Yankee tenure are reminscent of the trajectory of Internet stocks: Hired Gun. World Series Hero. Steroid Cheat. LIAR. Perjuror. If I'm George Steinbrenner, during my last remaining moments of lucidity, I'd order PR man Howard Rubinstein to issue this edict: "Please return the the soil your children stole from the pitcher's mound after your 300th win. You are in possession of stolen property."
Of course, you might have your own list. And you're welcome Doyle Alexander, Cecil Fielder, Ed Figueroa, Gary Sheffield and Chuck Knoblauch.
In celebration of Farny's exit, here's a list of recent ex-Yankees who didn't quite fit the "Great Yankee" description. Curiously, the five that immediately come to mind are pitchers.
5. Kevin Brown--Game 7 2004 ALCS. Before late arriving fans settle into their seats, Brown departs in the first innning giving way to Javier Vazquez who gave up Johnny Damon's grand-slam. Here is what Brown did for me: jack-shit.
4. Randy Johnson--Granted, The Big Unit won 34 games over two seasons, but we never saw the same Freak of Nature who sported an 18-2 record for Seattle in 1995. In fact, Johnson loses more points in my book for having worse acne than anyone this side of former Panamanian strongman Manuel Noriega.
3. Carl Pavano--You know you have an image problem when the New York Post dubs you "American Idle." It serves the Yankees right. They insist on signing a guy after his career year. Having a buttocks injury won't win any points with fans who think you sit on your ass all day.
2. Ed Whitson--Remember him? This nutjob was so paranoid of being bood at home, the Yankees would only pitch him on the road. Signed after his career year after 1983(Sound familiar?), he famously brawled with manager Billy Martin in Texas. After more careful consideration, perhaps Eddie Lee had reason: Some fans took to leaving thumb tacks in Whitson's driveway hoping to derail the pitcher on his way to the Stadium.
1. Roger Clemens--Adjectives descring Clemens' Yankee tenure are reminscent of the trajectory of Internet stocks: Hired Gun. World Series Hero. Steroid Cheat. LIAR. Perjuror. If I'm George Steinbrenner, during my last remaining moments of lucidity, I'd order PR man Howard Rubinstein to issue this edict: "Please return the the soil your children stole from the pitcher's mound after your 300th win. You are in possession of stolen property."
Of course, you might have your own list. And you're welcome Doyle Alexander, Cecil Fielder, Ed Figueroa, Gary Sheffield and Chuck Knoblauch.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Asleep at the switch at ESPN...
What the hell is going on at ESPN? Or as the great Phil Mushnik of the NY Post refers to it: Bristol Clown College.
Example #3,456: Sunday Night Baseball Yankees-Red Sox...When broadcaster Jon Miller is setting the positions, "Jeter playing short, AROD at third" ....There on the mound, the graphic stated, was PAVANO. Only that night's Yankee pitcher was PONSON, as in Sidney Ponson, NOT American Idle. (Of course, any real Yankee fan knew there was little chance of the oft-injured Pavano piching)
Is it me or is this a huge error? It struck me as so egregious an error that you wonder how in the world it got by anyone in production who knows
S-P-O-R-T-S.
Wisely, Jon Miller paid it no attention.
I called for ESPN for comment. And they declined. It strikes me that this how the Roman Empire fell: Arrogance. Just as with the borders of the far-flung Roman Empire were impossible to defend, so to has ESPN. Maybe they are too big.
To quote from the famous YOUTUBE clip from head ESPN clown Chris Berman: "Unbelievable. It's like no one here ever worked in television before."
Example #3,456: Sunday Night Baseball Yankees-Red Sox...When broadcaster Jon Miller is setting the positions, "Jeter playing short, AROD at third" ....There on the mound, the graphic stated, was PAVANO. Only that night's Yankee pitcher was PONSON, as in Sidney Ponson, NOT American Idle. (Of course, any real Yankee fan knew there was little chance of the oft-injured Pavano piching)
Is it me or is this a huge error? It struck me as so egregious an error that you wonder how in the world it got by anyone in production who knows
S-P-O-R-T-S.
Wisely, Jon Miller paid it no attention.
I called for ESPN for comment. And they declined. It strikes me that this how the Roman Empire fell: Arrogance. Just as with the borders of the far-flung Roman Empire were impossible to defend, so to has ESPN. Maybe they are too big.
To quote from the famous YOUTUBE clip from head ESPN clown Chris Berman: "Unbelievable. It's like no one here ever worked in television before."
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
I'm back...
Yikes. What an ass-kicker of a Summer. LOTS has happened. But in the middle of my personal shitstorm, I discovered that I truly miss the blog. Yup, the daily ranting and raving in my me-ness. And I'm sure the three of you that read every post and every submission missed it as well. So I'm picking it back up again. And no more mailing it in...I'm not going to half-ass this like some bullshit high school elective.
So what to write about? Presidential elections? The recent NY Yankees surge? Or perhaps, I can shine the flashlight of culpability on corporations that give paying customers mouth-cancer. As Bette Davis once quipped, "Button up fellas, it's going to be a bumpy night."
So what to write about? Presidential elections? The recent NY Yankees surge? Or perhaps, I can shine the flashlight of culpability on corporations that give paying customers mouth-cancer. As Bette Davis once quipped, "Button up fellas, it's going to be a bumpy night."
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