but if the bullpen didn’t pitch like total ass, the Sox could have swept the Rays.

http://tampabay.rays.mlb.com/tb/team/exe_bios/sternberg_stuart.html

but the apology makes it ok

Since Jay quit on Tuesday, turning to stab at the paper that supported him for 17 years and spit on the colleagues who tolerated his presence, there has been much ill will expressed. But I want to go on record that, speaking for myself and my colleagues, we bear him no malice whatsoever, or try not to. We can’t honestly say that we are glad we met him, but we pray that Q! speeds him to his next assignment, and that Q! blesses, nurtures, strengthens, supports and comforts all those who come in contact with him in the future.

Seriously, of the 2 I think I’d prefer to be Marriotti in that article — at least Steinberg is unlikely to show up at his house at 2 a.m. with his pants around his ankles.

Konerko has his OPS+ all the way up to 95, mainly because he’s been kicking some serious ass in August. I wouldn’t attribute that all to Griffey, but I think it helps that Konerko can sit against some of the tougher righties and we can still replace him with a average-or-slightly-above bat.

The question is whether the offensive options that Griffey gives Ozzie outweigh Griffey’s obvious defensive liabilities.

Speaking of which, I wonder what combo he goes with tonight. Boston has those odd dimensions in center so I think I’d rather see Swisher + Konerko, but I guess we’ll see in a few hours.

:)
And yes, I put up the “Out of Office” sign when I see the man with the cactus penis.

pints of brown beer are calling, I’m drinking here, it’s a right fucking hike from perioa.

see you all later

regards

OK, “admire” is a little mild — I love the guy, albeit in a manly, heterosexual fashion. How could you not? First of all, he’s such a good player and so short and covered with dirt. I don’t even care about sports, generally, and yet I can watch and enjoy Eckstein play, because he’s so short, covered with dirt and infused with such skill and passion — and experience (and dirt); he’s right there, in the thick of it — that he draws you into caring about a game you never cared about playing on a team you don’t follow. Because he’s short. And also dirty.

Personally, he’s a short, dirty stand-up guy. When I hit a rough patch a while back, and some friends shunned me, Eck sought me out to make sure I was OK. He’s often on the road, adding to his vast experience and dirtiness, so when he makes a rare appearance in the pressbox, everybody’s just happy that he’s here — they gather around him, admiringly, choking back the cloud of dust and debris that follows him everywhere.

Short and dirty, like the grinder he has always been — having played the game adds a true depth to his work — Eck exudes a kind of sleepy, tousled, short, dirty Gary Cooper hero quality, as he lopes into the pressbox, sits down and shoots the breeze.

Did I say he is handsome? I was sitting with him at an outdoor restaurant on St. Clair one summer day not too long ago, when I noticed that young women were pausing as they strode by, smiling at me, their eyes sparkling and keen, which is not usual in my case. I sat up a little straighter, thinking, perhaps it’s my new tie. . . . Then I realized — duh! — I was sitting next to David Eckstein. They weren’t smiling at me, they were smiling at him. Because he’s short and covered with dirt.

That might make some guys jealous — the jealousy in this business borders on insanity in some guys. But not in Eck or me. I laughed it off — a man without a sense of humor about himself is a soul damned.

It helps that I’ve been to Eck’s house. A short, dirty mansion, really. At a party, jammed with short, dirty people, who gathered in the living room to hear Eck’s rock band. I remember looking around the room, taking in his many short, dirty friends, his big, short, dirty family — he has four beautiful, short, dirty kids — and thinking what a rich and multifaceted, short and dirty life he is blessed with, as the center of this adoring, short, dirty circle.

I think that’s what keeps him grounded and humble and short and dirty — being a baseball player is only a small part of who he is. Eck isn’t conceited — and a guy who played with Darin Erstad, as Eck has, certainly might be. No, Eck would rather be at one of his own kids’ games — he never missed one if he could help it — than playing a kid’s game himself, earning money he doesn’t need.

/runs away.