Thoughts I'm Having While Pondering My Strange Attraction to Women with New York Accents

And I'm not talking about the greasy New Jersey accents, which can also be cool; I'm talking about the down and dirty New York girls who work on Wall Street selling futures and executing swap trades. The ones who have a few martinis after work and the occasional smoke... Damn I miss New York sometimes...

Anyway, the first post ever on this blog was a tribute to Thunder Dan Majerle, more specifically, some dumbass we went to law school with who on a hot spring day decided to rock his Phoenix Suns replica Majerle jersey sans undershirt. And if I were in college, I wouldn't have thought twice about it, but this was freaking graduate school. Yet this retard didn't think twice about it. I'm pretty sure he works at some firm in DC now making six figures so it totally worked out. Law school rules!

Thunder Dan was back in the news because he's suing a gossip website for posting a picture of the Thunder enjoying himself at one of his many fine establishments. Why is this a problem you ask? Well, the picture happens to contain a very young girl savoring an adult beverage, which is not exactly legal. And because said picture has made the rounds on the Internet, the Arizona liquor board is pissed and is currently chasing all the underage kids from his bars. As someone who knows a little bit about this topic (from a purely legal standpoint, of course), Thunder Dan has a right to be pissed. First off, there are only three types of people who go to athlete-owned establishments: 1) Retarded tourists who think said establishment represents local cuisine; 2) Retarded sports fans who like the idea of breaking bread with a sports "star," or at the very least, staring at athletic memorabilia while they chow down on $12 quesadillas and; 3) Underage kids who are trying to drink without being carded.

Now, the retarded tourists and sports fans come and go. After all, they are seasonal and the novelty of dining at such a place wears off after one meal, especially when the sports fans realize Thunder Dan ain't coming in that night. But, the underage kids will keep coming back. They got nowhere else to go. While they won't be throwing down "Thunder Dan Burger Baskets," they will be throwing back overpriced Apple Ciders and Long Island Iced Teas as long as they can, whereever they can.

Sadly though, once the spot gets blown up, the kids get freaked out. After all, none of them want a citation: a $100 fine to a college kid is like $10,000 to the rest of us, and if there is some Saturday morning community service thrown in? Nuts to that. These kids aren't that stupid. So, one might understand why Thunder Dan is just a little pissed. Anyway, I hope thunder Dan figures this all out even though underage drinking is stupid and sucks.

I also can't believe this blog has two posts devoted to Thunder Dan Majerle and zero to Pink Floyd or Bo Jackson. I really need to get out more.

And a few more thoughts for the weekend:

-Alex Rodriguez, two daughters both with the middle name "Alexander." Ok, what's up with that? Other than this being some weird family thing, I don't get it. Plus, they're GIRLS! Come on man, you're legacy is safe without tattooing it on your kids.

-NFL draft. Was kind of excited because they shortened it and it's going to be on while I'm at work. But then I realized it's coming on at 3, which is stupid and means I'm going to have to occupy myself with actual work. If I wasn't working, probably wouldn't care. We already know who the top pick is. And he's an offensive lineman. Blah.

-NBA and NHL playoffs. Not quite there yet, but the Wizards-Cavs Game 3 definitely got me thinking about it. Soulja Boy in the stands, LeBron getting heckled, Gilbert on the tables, weird haircuts? Now we're talking.

-MLB regular season. Yes.

Song of the Blog: "Come Back," Pearl Jam

Ok, you've heard most Pearl Jam songs about a million times, and while there might not be room in your catalogue for any more epic PJ songs, this one deserves to be added. The last album keeps getting better the more I listen to it.

Ten Things I Think I Think, Peter King Style

I'm not a huge Peter King fan, but once you get past his blind homerism (football's Peter Gammons) and his ruminations about airport bathrooms, coffee and television (PK just got around to "Family Guy" and "The Office"), his MMQ articles are actually pretty informative. You can't fault the guy for having decades of experience covering the game and in a media world filled with uninformed opinions, his are actually some I can respect. So, without further adieu, I do my best impression of King, but on baseball.

1). I wish Hank Steinbrenner would shutup. That's one thing you have to give Tom Werner: the guy knows to leave baseball decisions and commentary to his baseball people. Hank, you thought using Joba as a reliever last year was a mistake? A) Who gives a crap what you think? While you were training horses, Brian Cashman was winning the World Series. B) As repeated baseball pundits have pointed out, if Joba doesn't relieve last year, the Yankees probably miss the playoffs. Shutup.

2). Cardboard Gods over at the Baseball Toaster is perhaps one of the most enlightening, depressing and absolutely entertaining reads on the Internet. If you grew up collecting baseball cards, this is a must. The idea is so completely original, I wish I had thought of it. However, it takes a guy as talented as Josh Wilker to make it work. Don't think I could have done that.

3). When Peter Gammons took down Kyle Farnsworth the other night for throwing a fastball at Manny, I was at first, slightly annoyed. Granted the move by Farnsworth was bush league, and if you want to send a message to a hitter, it's better to do so away from his head. However, once Gammons got rolling, it was hard not to see his true colors showing, calling Farnsworth a "AAA pitcher." Well, that kind of made me angry. I understand that journalists have their favorites, but even the incredibly-unprofessional Steve Phillips was able to convey a sense of outrage that didn't have a big red "B" figuratively splashed all over it.

4). Frank Thomas got cut and as Rob Neyer writes, it was probably a mistake that shouldn't have been made in the first place. When Oakland signed Thomas before the '06 season, they did so at an incredible scale: $500K for a one-year committment. Granted, Thomas's performance in '06 was worth way more than that, but two years and $18M was way too much. Even if he put up another .260-30-90 season, $8M in '08 and the possibility of an easily-vested option wasn't worth it. In a league loaded with cheap DHs, the Blue Jays could have gone much cheaper (Hello, Mike Piazza, Barry Bonds and Sammy Sosa).

5). I think it's rough to see guys you watched come up have their career end on such a sour note, but it looks like Hideo Nomo is done. I remember being in high school when Nomo-mania was taking over, and I'll always remember that night early in the 2001 season when I skipped class, homework and various other responsibilities to watch Nomo toss a no-hitter against the Orioles.

6). Biggest disappointment so far: the Detroit Tigers. Injuries are once again ravaging a team that should be the most potent in baseball. I, for one, hate to see this happen because it brings back all of the arguments against a team making risky moves to "spend/win now." The Tigers are less than two years removed from playing in the World Series, have a core of guys with a few years left before they begin to decline (I-Rod not included), a solid manager and the money to acquire pieces to fill out a championship club. Granted, they mortgaged their future for a shot in '08 and '09, but a few months ago, no one was complaining about this move and they still shouldn't.

7). I think people are going to look back on the Marlins-Red Sox trade for a few years trying to figure out who got the better end of the deal. For now, it looks pretty even. Well, at least until Hanley Ramirez gets traded in a few years for cost-cutting purposes. He had a big weekend at the plate and is actually playing better than NL East counterparts Jimmy Rollins and Jose Reyes.

8). So there's a reason the Cubs are terrible? Uhhh, I thought all the curse crap ended in 2004. I guess not. It was funny before, then it became slightly less humorous, now it's annoying. Let it go. Do some real reporting.

9). Physically fighting over sports is about as lame as arguing over the Internet.

10). Chipper Jones, your 2008 NL MVP. Ok, probably not, but it's hard not to see that at 35 (he turns 36 Thursday) this guy is making one hell of a Hall of Fame statement. Most people thought Jones hit his pinnacle about four or five years ago, but after a few injury-plagued seasons, the guy is back and in a big way. He OPS'd + 166 last season, his highest since his MVP campaign in 1999, and has slowly re-entered the race as one of the league's most valuable players. In a game that is cruel to men who enter their fourth decade, it's nice to see one guy fight against the trend. I hope he stays healthy and does it all year.

Song of the Blog: "Summer '68," by Pink Floyd

Lest you call me out like we did to Mr. Gammons, I'm not going to hide my allegiance here: I love Pink Floyd. The "progressive (hate this term)" rock band has been my favorite for many, many years and not because it's a stoner hippie band. Sure, some of the stuff is a little out there, but David Gilmour's guitar and vocals more than make up for it. However, on this track, seldom-seen keyboardist Richard Wright sings an ode to a one-night stand while on piano. Then, out of nowhere, trumpets cascade the song, destroying the tranquility and giving you an idea as to how the encounter turned out. Ok, I'm reading way too much into this, but it's a good song and it came off of "Atom Heart Mother," one of the most underrated Floyd albums in the catalogue, coming along in 1970, years before it's more popular siblings, "Dark Side of the Moon" and "The Wall." That's a lot of commas.

A Lesson in Abject Stupidity

So, by now, you've probably heard that Miguel Tejada lied about is age when he first signed with the Oakland Athletics as a 19 year-old out of the Domincan Republic. Tejada, who told the A's that he was really 17 at the time, stated, "I'm a poor kid who just wanted to sign." The revelation came about when ESPN confronted the shortstop about a birth certificate filed by his father in the DR.

Ok, now that we've got that out of the way, a few quick points:

1). I can't say I'm surprised. I was just looking at Tejada's bio a few days ago and compared to a recent picture, I thought that he looked like an "old" 31. Furthermore, I didn't understand how one of the league's best shortstops was suddenly a liability in the field being only 31. He seemed to exit his prime pretty quickly. Now a decline at 33 seems a bit more logical.

2). I think Tejada is a dick. First off, it's pretty clear [no pun intended] that he was at least somewhat involved in this whole steroids deal. To what extent, we don't know, but both the Mitchell Report and Rafael Palmeiro point to at least some Roger Clemens-style B-12 shots action, at least. Second, the fact that he parlayed these possibly-steroid-infused seasons into a huge deal [$72M] while lying about his age all of this time is a big problem for me as an attorney and a baseball fan. If lying about your age isn't a material breach of contract, it's pretty dishonest. Yes, I understand he was poor when he first signed back in 1993, but by the end of the 2003 season Tejada had collected almost $9,000,000; hardly chump change for a kid who just wanted to feed his family.

3). Although Rob Neyer gives the Oakland and Baltimore front offices the benefit of the doubt, Ed Wade and the entire Houston Astro organization is retarded. Dude, do some fucking due diligence before you take on $12M a year for a shortstop. His fucking driver's license and green card apparently have his correct birthdate. Furthermore, Tejada's agent should be sanctioned for this as well- unless he's as clueless as Wade. Two years in baseball time is a lot, especially when determining whether or not a guy has exited his prime. If this type of age-manipulation is not uncommon [see Alfonso Soriano in 2004] and if the rumors about Tejada's real age were as widespread as Neyer suggests, this is a no-brainer. I guess that's asking too much from someone who still thinks the thirty-three year-old Tejada plays like he's "25." Either way, I'm confused... How do these guys keep getting work?

A couple of other notes:

-If you had told me five years ago that the Cardinals had in 2008: a) Rick Ankiel hitting clean-up behind Albert Pujols; b) At 3-0, Braden Looper as a vital part of their rotation; and c) A team that was in first place, I would have thought you were an idiot. Guess who's the idiot now? Once again Universe, you win...

-At 11-4 with a run differential of PLUS 40(!), the Arizona Diamondbacks are the best team in baseball. Granted, it's way too early to be giving them anything, but the average age of their regulars is 26 (!) with former starter Chad Tracy (27) on the DL. Their rotation checks in at an old-as-balls 30, but keep in mind Randy Johnson distorts that number by being 44. Their two best, Dan Haren and Brandon Webb, are 27 and 28, respectively. If I'm in the NL West, I'm scared.

-Dare I say it? I do. The American League is up for grabs. Boston and New York have both struggled mightily with their pitching and as I write this, are both sporting negative run differentials. The Yankees appear to be carbon copies of their '05-'07 teams and Boston is struggling with injuries and inconsistent pitching. Detroit and Cleveland are a miserable 10-20 combined, and the Angels have been getting slammed by injuries. Now's the time for Toronto (+22) and Chicago (+25) to make a move. Granted, we're only a few weeks in, but if you're either of these teams, you got to take what you can get.*

*I recognize it's way too early to make any kind of prediction, especially based on run differential, but it's the quickest and easiest way to make a point about how a team is really playing.

Song of the Blog: "Admit It!," Say Anything

I love this song for so many reasons, but mostly because of the lyrics.

Concrete Jerseys, Curses, Slumps and Big Papi

So, by now, you've probably heard about the ridiculousness of the entire Red Sox jersey-being buried-in Yankee Stadium-stupidity. If you haven't, I envy you, but here's a synopsis: Some ballsy construction worker from the Bronx thought it would be hilarious to bury a Red Sox jersey in the new Yankee Stadium concrete to "curse" the New Yorkers from ever winning another World Series. When the team found out about it, they spent five hours drilling into the Stadium's concrete to extract said jersey. In a spectacle almost equally as stupid, the team then held a press conference to announce they had secured the contraband and Yankee CEO Lonn Trost even hinted that the team might seek criminal charges.

Stupid, right? Because there aren't enough crimes in the Bronx that are going unpunished...

Of course, the best thing to come of all of this was Hank Steinbrenner's quote, "I hope his co-workers kick the shit out of him."

At first, that guy was starting to really get on my nerves. He was annoying, spoke out of turn, had a weird obsession with Jennifer Love Hewitt and looked like a younger version of his dad. Seriously, see left, he looks and dresses like George circa 1950, all the way down to the flat top. But then, he started calling out people who needed to be called out and smoking in public, and well, it's become difficult not to appreciate the Hankster on at least a comedic level.

But wait, this mess gets better. Before the jersey was removed, Mr. Boston himself, David Ortiz was mired in the worst slump of his career, starting the '08 season 3-43. Of course, in his first game since the jersey was removed, Big Papi broke his slump with a two-hit "outburst" against the Indians. Never mind the fact that he also struck out against Rafael Betancourt in a huge situation in the game's 7th inning, but I digress. I'm not a Red Sox guy, at all, but I think Ortiz is good for the game, and it's good he's been de-cursed, if that were the case. I'm sure it didn't help that "Gino from the Bronx" put the freaking jersey behind the VISITORS clubhouse, where the Yankees would never ever congregate, but I digress. I'm not much for curses and ole Gino don't look like the sharpest pencil in the box.

All in all, this whole thing was stupid, and I'm not sure why I'm writing about it, but I guess it's to show how dumb and corporate this rivalry has become. And I'll be honest, that really pisses me off. Both teams are exceptionally-run organizations. Granted each team's owner is a certified Mogul-Nutcase , but their general managers are two of the best in the game and by sheer geography, they will always be economically superior to most of their competition. Each team also has an indelible place in baseball history with rabidly-loyal fan bases. However, the bottom line is that ESPN, Fox and the rest of the unoriginal sportswriters in both cities want to make this is a year-round bitch-slap-fest, which is unfortunate for a few reasons: 1) Deep-down, the Red Sox players and management could give a crap about the Yankees and vice versa; and 2) The hype and fake feud do nothing but turn people off of the game, and away from the lesser-known, but more intriguing stories.

While we listened all weekend to stories about unsolved concrete jersey mysteries, the Kansas City Royals, perennial Al Central doormats, held down first place in a division it has no business leading, even 15 games into the season. Oh, and the team's best pitcher is Brian Bannister, a guy who the NEW YORK Mets practically gave away, who also fails to throw 90 mph, yet is 3-0. And their #2 starter? It's Zack Greinke, a kid who two years ago almost RETIRED from the game because of personal issues. Now, he's back, 3-0 and sporting an ERA under 1.00. Don't believe me? Check out Joe Posnanski's excellent work.

So, please, MLB, ESPN, Fox and assorted media: please do not pander to the pink-hatted masses. We understand the Yankees and Red Sox will be the main event for the foreseeable future, and believe me, we love that come late summer. But right now, there is real, fantastic, riveting baseball going on out there. Please don't forget about it.

Song of the Blog: "History," The Verve

Everyone remembers The Verve for "Bittersweet Symphony," which would seemingly throw them in the corner of other 1990's one-hit wonders. However, those who would do so are missing out. The group, led by frontman Richard Ashcroft, were extremely talented, reaching critical success in the UK before ever making it to the States. They enjoyed a nice run from 1989-1999, until they broke up. Alas, like all great bands and first loves, they found each other once more in 2007, renuniting once again. We'll see if they can make it last. I hope they do.

Farewell to a DC Institution

Out of all the places I've ever lived or visited for an extended period of time, Washington, D.C. has the most interesting relationship with it's local media. Because of the area's big-but-small city market stature, listening and viewing audiences have always been able to develop fierce loyalties to local faces, even after they move on to bigger and better things.

For instance, CBS's Gus Johnson will always be a local guy: before he perfected his on-air persona with Clyde Frazier on MSN, he was a goofy kid on the local Fox affiliate screaming things like, "Heads up base running by BIG DADDY MAC." In 2008, this would be completely acceptable. However fifteen years ago, it was just odd. Especially when "Daddy Mac" was Mark McLemore of the Baltimore Orioles. Needless to say, Gus refined his style and is now one of the industry's most respected commentators.

Anyway, D.C. people love their local products and perhaps this Friday, one of it's most beloved local products, "Don Geronimo (real name: Michael Sorce)" will be on the airwaves for the last time.

Anyone that's lived in the DC area for even a short period of time has heard of the "Don [Sorce] and Mike [O'Meara] Show," an institution in local radio for over 20 years. I remember listening to them on WAVA when I was a little kid all the way through high school, intermittently in college and then once again pretty regularly post-college through the present. Even when I was in NYC, I had the podcasts. I always liked their show because it was light, silly and usually hilarious.

Not that they didn't have their lesser moments. If you do a little research, you can read about Sorce's drug problems and O'Meara's messy divorces (and current live-in girlfriend who's hot as hell and my age). Yet, while many media people would shy away from discussing such personal events, these guys embraced them whole-heartedly. Sorce's family became regular guests on the show and proved to be more than just side-shows; they were funny and engaging. When Sorce's wife tragically passed away in the summer of 2005, he returned to the airwaves in three weeks, using his first show back as a tribute to her. While Sorce tearfully mourned her on air, fans of the show found themselves mourning his loss as well.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end and by the time Sorce's wife died, the show had already begun a massive transformation: thanks to the Bush administration and Janet Jackson, radio came under heavy (stupid) FCC scrutiny. The heyday of shock-jock radio was officially over. Howard Stern left terrestial radio in 2006 and later that year, Sorce took an extended leave of absence that was initially termed as a management problem but turned out to be more personal. By the end of the summer, it was quite obvious that at least Sorce would not be coming back.

In what was made official only a few months ago, Sorce announced his retirement effective in June of 2008. As the show went on it's annual spring break this past March, rumors swirled that Sorce had already bowed out, retroactively moving up his retirement date to March 13. On April 2, DCRTV, a website dedicated to DC media (see, told you it was a little nuts here), confirmed Sorce was done, but would be returning for one last farewell show this Friday, April 11.

All indications are that the show will remain in tact once Sorce is officially gone: O'Meara will take over sole hosting duties with the rest of the crew stepping up their contributions to the program. In fact, in conjunction with Sorce's retirement, the station also announced the return of Beth Ann McBride, a former producer who was also a fan favorite.

While I have no doubt the immensely-talented O'Meara and company will do an excellent show, it's not the same. Growing up with Don and Mike was an experience- they were always there, no matter what. Whenever I would come back to D.C. they were always the first ones I turned the radio to. And while they were on the air for so many unforgettable moments (the shows around 9/11 were spectacularly done), some of my greatest memories of D&M were some of the stupid, but ridiculously funny games they played on a random Wednesday afternoon. They were the friends that were always there, especially Don, through thick and thin, whenever you needed them. Whether it was the day of my grandmother's funeral or the worst four hour car ride of my life, they gave me an escape. For all of those moments, I will be forever greatful.

Song of the Blog: "The Underdog," Spoon

Indie rock bands don't always translate into solid live performers, but these fellas from Austin, Texas absolutely do. Managed to catch them a few times last year (including twice in their hometown, actually), and each time they were great. Playing to a small club in Austin or a few thousand people at an outdoor amphitheater, they failed to disappoint. "The Underdog" is indicative of their live efforts.

Things that Piss Me Off (this week)

1. My college basketball brackets.
2. DC United fans: my thoughts about futbol aside, you're rude, you wear weird scraves to games, and you suck at not annoying the hell out of me while I try to watch basketball.
3. Lawyers.
4. Armed robbery.
5. Student loans. Unless I learn to throw a cut fastball, I'm never going to pay them off.
6. Beer "Specials." $4 for Butt Lite? Nothing "special" about that. Save for the fact I'm paying $2 too much for watered down beer.
7. Credit card companies. Hey jerks, ever try to get blood from a turnip?
8. People who check their email once a day, at 11:30pm, right before they go to bed.
9. Oblivious tourists.
10. The damn weather. It's fucking April- I'll deal with the rain, but you think you could ratchet up the temperature above 50 degrees?

Enough bitching. There is baseball on tonight. And supposedly some basketball game I probably won't watch. Not because I hate basketball, or the teams, or because my bracket is broke-ass, but the matchup is anti-climatic. Sure, the players on Memphis and Kansas are great, but I just don't see myself getting fired up over the Calipari-Self battle of the also-rans. Look back on the last six tournaments and each champion had a player who was worthy of the "One Shining Moment" ridiculousness:

2002: Juan Dixon (dead parents, brother at all the games, huge shots all tournament, you get it)

2003: Carmelo Anthony (dominated an entire season as a freshman)

2004: Emeka Okafor (humble leader of a strong team, consensus best player in college all year)

2005: Sean May (McCants and Felton weren't bad either)

2006: Joakim Noah (annoying, but whatever)

2007: Corey Brewer (and the entire starting five from '06's winners against Greg Oden)

So basically, this year is kind of weak in terms of storylines- it's just two very well-rounded teams with a combined four losses (wow). But I guess that's the way it is sometimes. Maybe someone will do something awesome tonight. Doubtful, but you'll see. I'll be watching baseball.

UPDATE: I'm a jerk. This is a great game. Of course I'm watching it.

Song of the Blog: "Kissing Families," Silversun Pickups

A band I shied away from because of all the hype, but turned out to be pretty solid. Normally, I'm not a fan of a screaming lead singer, but this guy doesn't annoy me as much as I thought.

Welcome Back Baby, Oh How We've Missed You

Baseball is without a doubt, the greatest gift God has ever given us. Every summer, countless hours are spent taking in spectacular moments of pure athletic accomplishment. It is a game that has no clock, waits for fucking no one. It's old, inefficient, and slow. But this arrogance, devotion to purpose and execution is what makes it the greatest sport ever. The intricacies of the game that make it superior cannot be quantified.

Throughout the summer, we're spoiled in a pure state of sporting ecstasy. Living in this Elysium through beautifully long days and warm inviting nights, we wade slowly. When our fair mistress leaves us in the fall, we shuffle into the darkest time of the year. Through those 4 months, we act as beasts: consuming, hibernating, hiding, trying to do anything to get through the misery of winter. Like any other lovelorn man, we long for our goddess; waiting patiently for her return.

But unlike any other lost love, she returns in the spring with arms wide open, in time to give us new hope. To enable us to wash away the pale, bourbon-soaked itchy wool sweater that is winter. It is the greatest elixir known to man. Tastier than any cold beer, sweeter than any woman, more loyal than, well, just about anything.

It's fans are smarter than the fans of any other sport. Football fans represent the unwashed masses covered in silly face paint barking for a lineman to break the body of the opposing team's quarterback. When a monumental moment occurs, it resembles utter chaos. In baseball, the greatest achievements are seemless and effortless. It's fans are the strong, silent types; calculating, cold, intelligent and imminently better people.

In a sport of so much utter importance, logically, the stakes are high. There are heated arguments about who's club is better than another's. There are disagreements, but sometimes there are also jokes. Baseball fans, no matter from Boston, New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, whereever... they may loathe each other with a passion, but there is an unspoken sense of respect among it's true fans.

You want your John Claytons and Len Pasquarellis? Take them. I'll spend my hours with real reporters who actually research their work and know how to write. They are my heroes and they have names like "Buster" and "Keith."

I come home from a long day of work. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm angry. I'm single, no real prospects on the horizon; the one I want lurks thousands of miles away with someone else. No plans for the night, my mind slips into slight rage. I begin to assess my life. I think about when I was 18 and all of my plans for this age: richer, stronger, slimmer, healthier, more successful. I'd drive a nicer car living in a different city, completely on top of my game. I feel depressed. My mind begins the slippery slope into utter depression. I slide onto the hot couch, sweating, of course. At my zenith of frustration, I reach for the remote control. I turn on the television, it's Comcast Sportsnet, Orioles v. Devil Rays. I don't care for either team, but it's the bottom of the 6th and Kevin Millar's got two men on, a 3-1 count, 2 outs, with his team down by 2 runs. I hear Buck Martinez relay this information to me in his unmistakable tone. I slowly become engrossed. I begin to exit the real world.

If you need further proof about the awesomeness of baseball check out this, this, and this. And that's just to start. You're welcome for those, as well as for the picture of Buck above. God, I missed him.

Songs of the Blog: I had a real hard time just picking one song for this entry because these two have been on my mind a lot lately. And since it's my blog, I'll do what I want.

"I Will Possess Your Heart," Death Cab For Cutie
I feel kind of lame for writing a fawning post about baseball then choosing this song, but it's pretty solid. Not to mention it's about 8 minutes long, yet the band carries itself for about half of the track until the vocals begin.

"When We Escape," Minus the Bear
A little prog-rock never hurt anyone, especially me and I'm really digging this song the more I listen to it. Very nice lyrics, slow, sexy song. I'm destined to have a summer fling with a girl and assign this song to her. Who's interested?