On Perfect Games ...

It's 3:30 in the morning, the birds outside my window won't shut the fuck up, and here's what just crossed my mind: While Jim Joyce certainly manned up to his heinous error in Detroit, and much respect to him for that, I don't think he calls that runner safe if it's Roy Halladay on the mound, in place of Armando Galarraga. And I mean that on a purely baseball level.

This saddens me.

A perfect game, lost.

It's Up To God Now...

After watching the Toronto Blue Jays take three of four from the Detroit Tigers, one thing is for certain: Magglio Ordonez needs a haircut. Desperately.

Seriously, Maggs, dude. That hair, it's got "I'm a douchebag" all over it.

I'm not sure I could cheer for a guy with a mop like that. Sure, the .320 average, 15 home runs, and 71 RsBI are nice but...who am I kidding? With numbers like that, considering how flaccid the Blue Jays offence is, there would be a Magglio Ordonez shrine in my 365 square foot closet apartment.

Anyway, enough about Maggs.

The playoffs get underway tonight. Well, in all likelihood, my playoffs. Red Sox and Blue Jays from beautiful Fenway Paahk. Doc vs Paul Byrd. The start of fifteen in a row against AL East opponents. Nine games out of the wild card.

Light a candle, make the sign of the holy cross, get on your knees facing Mecca, have a pooja, do what ever it is you need to do. Start praying.