Alright, Huston!  This one's for you, kid.

God, that sounded old. Somebody be a friend and don't ever let me say that again.  Anyways, speaking of old, I caught myself thinking last night while I was playing my guitar (which made for some really lousy rhythm), and it's weird to me how close I could be to retiring.  A long baseball career is what, twenty years?  I've been playing in the majors for eleven, but I doubt I've got nine more in me.  I'd be..... 45 at the end of them?  I think I would go insane missing California and everything I've got back there if I stayed away so long.  And I couldn't do that to Lizzie either.  Teen years?  By herself?  Plus, I have a feeling, taking Lauren's newfound interest in stunt skateboarding into consideration, that there will be a few injuries along the way.  Just seeing what MY BELOVED ERIC BYRNES does on his makes me cringe now.  One of those parental "LAUREN, IF YOU DO THAT, YOU'RE ON A TIME OUT, YOUNG LADY" things.  Then she'd do it, and I would shrivel and die.

AHEM, tangent.  As I was saying, it's strange.  It might just be the end-of-the-season blues, but I'm missing home more and more.  I know I'm an okay baseball player, but I'm a better (or at least more devoted) father.  So I'm second-guessing that fingers-crossed, getting-into-the-postseason thing.  Maybe I just want to go home.  Not saying I'm seriously considering leaving the field right now.  It's just that I can think about it, and that makes me lucky.  Most people can't retire until they're 65.  I'd say Im a little ahead of the game.

There are my musings for now!  Satisfied, Sir Street?  I certainly hope so.  Wouldn't want to leave you wanting.

Oh, I wanna send a shout-out to somebody too (again, no one let me say that ever again, please).  Congratulations to Chris Capuano on his winter wedding.  Good luck to you both, especially the fiance.  :)   Just kidding, let's not play bean-ball, kay?

I'm washing my hair yesterday morning over the side of the bath tub when this bottle full of soap that must weigh 5 pounds falls square on the back of my head. Almost blindsighted me, no kidding!

So now I have this second head growing out of the back of my skull and it seriously hurts to wear a batting helmet.  I went 2-4 though, so I suppose I should do it more often. ?

There's your reason to feel smart today! Have a great one.

Congratulations, White Sox, on winning the Series. I only wish it would have gone to seven games so I'd have more excuses to be a couch potato. Kudos, nonetheless.

Oh! And I feel so weirdly fatherly and proud of JD, winning MVP? Take me for a spin in your shiny new SSR sometime, hey? You using that trophy as a hood ornament yet, or are you still sleeping with it, giving it its own pillow and breakfast in bed and everything? ;) Anyway, you made an old old teammate feel warm and squishy.

Especially seeing you covered in liquor holding your giant blingbling.

...

In other news, though, I just saw this thing online that made me so happy. "Fluffernutter." *snicker* Really! Say it with me? Flu-ffer-nutt-er. Don't you feel giddy now? Boy, I sure do.

( waiting for ERIC TO PICK A DAMN MOVIE )

I TOLD YOU SO, EVERYBODY!!

The Cardinals CAN be beat! SEE, yet again, Scott Hatteberg is proven to be right about everything.

Hyyyes...

Too bad for The Markus, but the Houston guys really deserve this, I think. Biggio, Bagwell and Ausmus most definitely, since they've been there for a thousand years. And Brandon Backe just because he's lovable and stuff. And I have to cheer for him or Nicky might have me offed.

Wasn't it forty-four years without a World Series? Same as Oswalt's number. That's pretty cool.

Now comes the daunting task of choosing who to root for in the WS. JD or Brandon? Fuck, I just might be legitimately torn!

Why the holy crap am I awake at 6 am? Who knows. But part of it is the Eve 6 dude's fault. Seriously, that's ridiculous. Give some of your talent to meee!

You're really gone, girlfriend
The dryer's on, Amen
And I'm alone for the first time
I walk away now, I walk away now
You left a sock, girlfriend
Where's the pair broken
Are you aware that I'm missing you
I walk away now, I walk away now

But I can't run to you no more
to catch me when I'm falling
I know I have to let you go
But I will not be broken
No, I will not be broken
But keep the slowly fading memories

This place is strange, empty
You did your time, turned twenty
And the walls are bare where your pictures hung

But I can't call you up no more
And no we can't just be friends
But now it's time to let you go
But I will not be broken
No, I will not be broken

And keep the slowly fading
Memories, memories
I'm keeping these memories

I can't run to you no more
To catch me when I'm falling
I know I have to let you go
But I will not be broken
For every tear a lesson learned
Every good time golden
But now it's time to let you go
And I will not be broken
And I will not be broken
No I will not be broken
And keep the slowly fading memories

...Really. It made me laugh, though. The site I looked these lyrics up on said "You love to suck good friends" in stead of "you left a sock, girlfriend." That changes the meaning JUST A TEENY BIT. I'm going to sleep now. Maybe.

Stupid Juan Valdez and his beans. Keeping me up all night.

Then again, a clover's only a plant....

For what it's worth, tonight, nobody seemed ridiculously broken by losing the postseason, and that was good to see. It's disheartening, but there's a lot to be proud of, too. Elly's had a stellar comeback year - better than anybody could have expected, I think. Kendall's said so many times this is the best season he's had, here in Oakland, and I don't imagine narrowly missing a playoff spot is going to change that for him; plus, he's finishing off this year hotter than a jackrabbit on a hot tin roof in the middle of August..... (yeah, I'm quoting Spongebob. That's sad.) Scoots has 9 homers on the year, a career best. All our Oakland rookies are something to boast about - I'm proud of all of you to a degree you can't possibly imagine. Nicky, I can't SAY everything I have for you, but then you're used to that. *eyeroll* You never cease to amaze me, honey, even if you see yourself as one of the less colorful crayons in the Oakland box lately - at least as far as baseball is concerned. You're no rookie in my eyes.  I believe Payton's found a home - even if he still looks at me funny every now and then... Um... anyway. Zito, man. Zito. Truly deserving of that whole Comeback Player award - innings pitched up, hits, runs, earned runs all down from last year. Nothing short of awe-inspiring. DANNY'S STUCK HERE FOUR YEARS AT LEAST BWAHAHA. Chavs has been Mr. Positive down the stretch as usual, keeping us all sane with his freakishly calm demeanor. That's simply critical. Richie's battled through so so much lately, only to reach triple digits again tonight and show us he's still got every bit of gas he ever had. Mark, even if you'd rather not hear it, I thought you looked simply beautiful out there tonight - two hits? Damn skippy. Plus, a quick trip to Yahoo will tell you you have twenty less strikeouts than last year here. Granted that might not stay that way, but if you strike out twenty times in a week, I'll have to hurt you. If you don't plan on spending the night harassing poor Jamie, come over, kay? Kielty, Saarloos, Gint, Melhuse, Bobby - everybody, you all have reason to be entirely proud of what we've accomplished this season.

I'm proud of all of you, and even if we haven't got a postseason to look forward to, we still have some baseball to play. We might as well make it damn good baseball, right? We'll wow the die-hard Athletics fans still left in the stands for the rest of these games - ALL THREE OF THEM! YEAH!

We are doing better tonight guys. I have a four leaf clover says so.

May the Force be with you, Joe Blanton.

So this living thing's been fun, excepting like the last three hours. I'd say more, but I have to go dry-hump the space time continuum and hope it lets me invent time travel so I can make myself less BASEBALL-RETARDED.

WE NEEDED ERCI BYRNES THATS WHAT WE NEEDED

Whatvere,  I'm going to go have a nother beer and watch Brad Ptt bite people. Ciao!

What the hell. 2 Ks?

Anybody wants to participate in the official hanging of Scott Hatteberg, meet me under the Bay Bridge at 9:30 sharp Sunday night.

BLARG. Game-ending strikeout. At least I wasn't bunting. If I had struck out bunting, I'd have to do something much more gruesome than hang myself. Something with elephants. Mhm.

Now excuse me, I have to go curse a lot and make everyone sick with my pouting.

P.S. Aside from me being a giant baby, I got this gloriously genius idea like 30 seconds ago after Mark Teixeira was talking about waffles when I got to first base earlier. If you put mashed potatoes in a waffle iron, do you think you could make waffle fries? I am EINSTEIN. God!! I'm so trying that when I get home.

Hmmm, rain delay. What better time is there for random musings than this?

I'd almost forgotten I - *gasp* - like it when it rains at Fenway, though not being a Red Sock anymore makes it less appealing. The Green Monster's lost much of its appeal, and really my only reason for liking it now is the acoustics. It sounds incredible. I don't know if that's because of the rain or because you're not hearing fifty thousand Bostonian accents screaming "YOU SUCK" every time one of... their fielders misses a play. Because its your fault. Of course.

Hey! How's this for annoying? Nicky's not playing today so he's choosing to read over my shoulder, and he's about to get slapped. ... Bwahaha, that worked. >=^)

Anyway, *ahem* I fell asleep watching Poltergeist last night and dreamed about Zito getting swallowed up by a coffin that sprung up from the mound here at Fenway. ? I don't know. Always seems like the dreams you remember are the ones you least want to.

( The scariest thing I've ever seen in print. No, for real! Worse than Stephen King. )

In other news, sometimes absolution hits you like a Mack truck. Luckily, sometimes the pain is more than welcome. Perhaps knowing that one thing can't and will never happen is a way to finally convince a very obstinate, headstrong boy that something else can. Sigh. I don't expect anyone to understand that. It's simply a musing, and it means nothing to anyone but me. I just had to say it.

Happy birthday, Danny Haren. :)

I've got chocolates and you don't.

Dear Nicky.

I would be on the phone with you in 2 seconds if it wasn't 3 am. You don't need sleep, right?

Sincerely,

your neighborhood GODDAMN EMO FREAK BIPOLAR STUPID BLAH.

Okay, so somebody's clingy. I thought you stopped missing people after a day when you were like 17. Hm. Just goes to show I shouldn't think because I'm normally wrong when I do.

Today's seemed really long and boring to me, but thanks to LA's wide array of quality establishments, the night doesn't have to match it.

ERF. My song is really stumping me lately, though I believe I know what I need to fix that. Mm... I really don't know what I'm saying. I'm bored and in one of those stupid, groundless, melancholy moods that sprout out of waking up in the wrong position or god knows what.

And so I depart! To go snap myself the fuck out of this. It's really annoying. I should go look at a random picture of Byrnesie. Can't help but laugh at him, after all. ;)

EDIT:

Wait! So here's how this goes: I was in a crappy mood earlier today while I was writing this - apparently too crappy to even bother finishing. But seriously. BOBBY KIELTY IS MY HERO FOREVER and I'm a happy motherfucker now. Except that I just ran into a wall and there's a bug in my coffee.

Oh, and for the record, laughing at Eric really does work for curing a case of the Mondays. Or. Tuesdays. ...Whatever.

Really.

( But......... why? )

Was border patrol there to make sure there weren't any stowaways? wtf.

Hey, Nicky, looked at Yahoo's sports page lately?

There's some dork on the front page you should see.