ted lilly had a pretty bad night last night, but i'm just fine with that because his horrific outing meant that my boys moved to a game and a half up on those filthy bostonians. "he's taken off his shoe...i think he's crying." good times. unfortunately, the o's were unable to pull it out against the sox, despite an early lead. miguel tejada overthrew first, probably because he was busy thinking about ways to execute rafael palmeiro. i mean, if i were tejada, that's what i'd be thinking about right now. throwing to first base would be pretty incidental.
this is simply my favorite time of year, and it doesn't matter what else is going on, whether the world is going down the tubes or my personal bullshit factor is off the charts, i still get this crazy amped-up love in my heart where baseball is concerned. i can even smell the october-yankee stadium smell. it's wonderful.
don't wanna get ahead of myself, however.
so again, moving on.
every few months i re-discover radiohead's brilliant hail to the thief, and i am consistently floored by how absolutely amazing it is. it's nice to go away from an album for a while and have it blow you away all over again when you come back to it. priceless, as those advertising bastards at mastercard would say, while they mercilessly manipulate your emotions.
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