Phillipe + Jorge have been absolutely giddy, as we have gone crazy about the World Series’ success of the Olde Towne Team. We are also keeping an eye on the amazing Patriots as they horsewhip opposing teams to within an inch of their lives on the steps of their national men’s club, the NFL.
In the midst of this ongoing local celebration of the Sweaty Sciences, here are a few notable observations of those who inhabit Jockworld:
• Fox’s pre- and post-game coverage of the Fall Classic was absolutely horrendous. Jeanne Zelasko, the frantic, blabbering hostess, was essentially unwatchable and unlistenable. Bringing on Eric Byrnes, the Arizona Diamondbacks’ hyperactive and childish poster boy, who looked like a junior high school kid with his shirttail out while he yammered on-camera, was intolerable. Word to this self-absorbed athlete: grow up and shut up. A special message to the jocks and sportswriters who want to sound like they have actually wrangled a GED: using contorted, puffed-up, faux intellectual phrases, like “bat-to-ball skills,” “pitch to contact,” and swing-and-miss-ability,” merely exaggerate how you are an idiot. You’re welcome.
• The quote of the World Series had to come from its MVP, Mike Lowell, the Red Sox’ regular season most valuable player to boot. His superb fielding and clutch hitting made him a deserving winner, but his heads-up base running was an added joy for baseball purists. Asked about his suddenly exposed ability to take chances and snatch an extra base in key situations, Lowell had a great explanation: “You always look faster if you’re safe.”
• It’s such sad news about the New York Yankees’ Alex Rodriguez, presumptive American League MVP, opting out of his multi-gajillion contract with the Evil Empire to go on the free market. P+J say there’s no chance the BoSox will sign A-Hole, because he is a locker room nightmare, and it is unlikely the Yanks will take him back, so he may be left wandering the wilderness looking for a new team. A-Fraud’s chance of turning whatever desperate franchise he lands with into a World Series champ is slim, given his record of putting on the iron suit when the pressure goes up. To paraphrase Seinfeld’s Soup Nazi, “No rings for you!”
• Speaking of no rings, the only accessory that should be given to purported reliever Eric Gagne, the BoSox’ official albatross, is a cigar band. Although he did pitch one scoreless inning at the end of the first WS game blowout — an appearance which nonetheless instilled fear in the hearts of Red Sox Nation — Mr. Gag-me was a nightmare acquisition for the team. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out, Eric.
• One of P+J’s all-time friends runs the Petra Foundation, which supports citizen-activist efforts aimed at promoting the rights, autonomy, and dignity of other. She heard from one of her fellows, a Native American named Len Foster, who is a veteran of the American Indian Movement veteran, whose father was a code-talker in WWII, and who now counsels Native American inmates and holds smokehouse ceremonies in the prisons that allow them. Not surprisingly, Jacoby Ellsbury, the young Sox star-in-the-making, who is of Navajo descent, has caused a surge of pride for Native Americans. As Foster, who is acquainted with one of Ellsbury’s relatives, noted, “He was spectacular and just awesome. He is gifted and has speed and can hit the fastball. He is an all-star and has a bright future and is a role model for the young Native Americans.” ’Nuf sed.
• Finally, P+J’s eyes turn to Indianapolis this Sunday, where the Brady Bunch will visit Peyton Place. While doing our daily workout at our local fitness center — yes, when it comes to being oiled and buff, nothing says “gladiator movies” like P+J. We saw a young man walk in with a T-shirt that said “Peyton sucks” on the front. As he walked by, we noted another message on the back: “And Eli does too.”
Advertise that!
Cooking with concrete
Hey, how come everyone and their brother is getting their knickers in a twist about the Department of Transportation using less-than-top-grade concrete in Little Rhody’s bridges and highways for, oh, let’s say, about four decades? What a lot of hot, compressed jackhammer air about nothing.
So what if a major span in Minnesota collapsed this past summer, killing a bunch of people and injuring even more? Don’t be a pansy, drive right over a Biggest Little bridge in that SUV, with your friends and family aboard. And just because a woman was killed by falling building materials when she and her husband were stupid enough to drive through a Big Dig tunnel, it doesn’t mean you should be concerned.
Well, forgive P+J if we are a tad worried.
Unlike Connecticut, where transportation official seem to actually adhere to the established and relevant safety protocols, our guardians took sub-par concrete at half price in some instances, as the Urinal’s Bruce Landis reported last Sunday.
Hey, remember, if a bridge falls down while you are on it, we got a real deal on the price, so quit your bellyaching.
