Friday, October 08, 2004
‘90, 90, 90, 90, 93, 93, 94, 94, 93, 93, 93, 95, 92, 94, 92, 93, 92, 94, 94 and 93’: Find out what the numbers mean. Only baseball. ... I’m tempted to borrow the line from Star Wars, ‘Don’t get cocky, kid.’ But it’s too late. They’re already getting cocky about the Yanks. At least it’s not a form of hysterical self-pity, though it does border on cute sentimentality. They’re setting up the woe-is-us act if the Sox choke against the Angels or Yanks (or Twins). Moi? Sticking to my new anti-cute HATE spiel. At least it has the benefit of being different. I’m channeling hate every minute -- and it seems to be working.
