Sunday, 19 October 2008

I grovel at your feet, bow down on your doorstep


Here's the thing, im a stubborn ess oh bee...i normally hate to be wrong...yesterday was not one of those days


Dear Mr Terry Francona,


I apologise...i said many a mean thing about your decision to start a very injured Josh Fucking Beckett ahead of a very good John Lester...you thought to yourself its Josh Fucking Beckett, im giving him the ball...i doubted you...there are two reasons i should never doubt you, namely the fact that the red sox were 0-86 in their last 86 attempts to win a world series before you and 2 out of 4 since...somewhere in that shiny vaguely vulcan-esque head of yours is the brain of a genius...i, on the other hand need to remember that there is a reason you are a professional baseball manager and i am not.



Dear Mr Jason Varitek,


I admit that when you came to the plate with the sox in desperate need of a run to quell the tampa bay momentum i groaned...audibly. Jokes were made, "he may be the first player ever to strike out on two pitches", "here comes the pitchers spot", "his wife clearly got his bat in the divorce" all flashed through my mind...but then...BAM...thats right BAM...i was so shocked diet coke may have went up my nose...i still wouldnt bring you back next year...but i enjoyed night of the living dead catcher very much.




Alive !!!11

With that in mind...go out and win a pennant tonight, would yas?

i promise il talk about something other than baseball...soon

Jay,

w.i.n


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