The Loss Column

So today, Friday 9/12, the NY Mets are up four games in the loss column versus the Philadelphia Phillies. This weekend is HUGE folks.

Mets play home against the woeful Braves. Santana against Hampton tonight, Pedro vs. JoJo Reyes on Saturday, and Ollie P. takes on some guy names Jorge on Sunday. Gotta win 2 of 3 here.

Phils got the Brew Crew- and they took the first game last night. Brewers better step it up folks. The Wild Card is at stake for them.

No predictions, cause I don't want to be called a jinx. Let's go Mets. Take care of business.

Anyway, I'm off to Dallas on Sunday for business. Gonna try to get to a Ranger game on Tuesday night. Catch you on the flipside of Ike.

Seven Years Ago

Just a short post -

Keep those who perished in New York City, Arlington and Shanksville seven years ago in your prayers today.

Never Forget.

God Bless America.

It's good to be King

Watched a fascinating documentary last night called The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters. It's about Donkey Kong, you know the big monkey, damsel in distress, a plumber named Mario and many barrels and elevators.

Now, I'm not really the gaming type. I do like Tetris and puzzles, but today's video games leave me cold. I do remember the days of classics like Galaga, Centipede and the mighty DK though. I had heard about this film awhile back and thought it fairly interesting.

In the far corner, you have the recognized champ (since 1982!), a very unlikable (my opinion) guy named Billy Mitchell. In the other, the good-guy, Johnny-come-lately, Steve Weibe. And in between, the oddest assortment of video game followers and geeks you will ever see. Nearly everybody looks like something out of a Will Ferrell movie. Yikes.

Anyway, check out the movie if you wanted to see the nasty underbelly of the classic videogame world (which actually exists). Like I said, fascinating. You won't believe this stuff actually goes on.

SoulSlam Returneth

Back in black fight fans. Black since I need to return to the grind in a couple of days. Back from an incredibly great, relaxing vacation. Back to the North of NJ.

Random thoughts from my week away:
Rehoboth Beach (and surroundings) is a great place
Crabs are plentiful in the Delmarva
Check out what may be my favorite restaurant here
Why do vacation haunts always have a 20" TV?
Any place with outlet shopping attracts interesting types
The Phillies may have the biggest bunch of homers broadcasting
Apparently ESPN is letting Baseball Tonight take a backseat to football now
Five Guys makes what might be the best burger I've ever tasted
Mets need some bullpen help. Quickly
Jake's is highly recommended
The Cape May-Lewes Ferry is a great way to travel
The price of gas is killing me. Who remembers (the good old days) two summers ago when we we're topping 2 bucks.
The Yankees are just about D-E-A-D
My NFL team, the Oakland Raiders will be lucky to go 4-12
A-Rod just hit into another DP to kill a rally
I feel sorry for the Rays - how about showing up Tampa folks?
How come the worst shows are in re-runs?
Some good TV begins this week (besides baseball)
Scott Boras is an a**

Have a safe Labor Day.

Sand and Surf

So for all my loyal listeners - vacation has arrived. And I am off!

Going to the great state of Delaware, for a week of beachtime. As you may or may not know, people from NJ don't go the beach, we go to the shore. But once your at the shore you can go to the beach. But since I'm going to another state, I guess I'm going to the beach.

Access to the WWW will be limited while I'm away, so you'll have to make do. Be back soon....

The Curse of Ryan

I often have spirited discussions with friends and acquaintances who root for the NY Yankees. If you live in the NYC area, you know the type; the one's who always bring up 26 World Championships, 1986 as the last year the NY Mets won the series, etc. These discussions always end up with me winning this battle of wits, because: 1) they are ill-prepared for my devastating rips, and 2) they've been drinking the Yankee Kool-aid for way too long.

So let me let you in on a little secret: the NY Yankees have been under the spell of The Curse of Ryan since they last won the series. What is The Curse of Ryan, you ask? Let's digress.

Obviously you all know the famous ones - Curse of the Bambino, finally exorcised in 2004; there is the Curse of the Billy Goat, which is still going strong, but looks like it has chance to graze no more; and a lot of people, especially them's in New England point to the Curse of A-Rod. Well how about the more obscure curses - like the Curse of the ex-Cubs, which has not always been fool-proof, but has a pretty good batting average all the same; or the Curse of Pedro Borbon.

Liking the whole voodoo of the curse factor, I propose that The Curse of Ryan is now in full effect. So here's the tale.

On October 26, 2000, a young man was born named Ryan. His dad (that would be me) is a HUGE METS FAN (all caps on that). The evening of 10/26/2000 was also the night the Mets lost the World Series to the Yanks at Shea. Bittersweet, since the birth of my second son was so joyous, but sad because my Mets lost. So Ryan placed the curse that night, for the Yankees to never win the WS again.

And, yes, I know, they got there in 2001, but the kid was a year old folks. The little guy's mojo wasn't too strong yet. Every year though, he gets older and the curse is getting stronger. He's 7 now, and the Curse is keeping the NYY down in the standings. By the time he's 13, the Yankees will resemble the KC Royals!

So a message to you all - he won't take it off, and you all have your celebrating at Shea on that night to blame. Light a candle, say a novena, because it's on.

Note: Pick up Baseball's Most Wanted if you want to read about a ton of BB oddities. Great read.

Lettuce Story

Remember Bob Probert? Maybe the toughest SOB ever to lace up a pair of Bauers. Goon of goons, the self-proclaimed heavyweight champ of hockey. But this guy had nothing on the ladies at my local supermarket over at the Salad Bar.

I felt like a salad for lunch - and I work near home. So I went to my local market, where the greens are a known quantity. I'm pretty simple with a salad; some lettuce (except iceberg), some tomatoes, maybe a little pasta florentine and away I go. Grab my plastic container, work the tongs and voila! - lunch.

Now, the salad bar is a two-sided extravaganza, with a little alcove area at the end for your fruit-based components. Plenty of room for the nimble to load up and move on. Nope.

I get there during lunchtime and head straight to the SB. And when I get there, I spy two women descending on this island of earthy goodness - one to a side. And then it begins. Neither woman will allow me the courtesy of laying down a bed of greens on my canvas of plastic. They hunch over the lettuce areas like vultures. And I swear, one of them was picking up individual romaine bits piece by piece, examining them like a forensic pathologist and placing the bits that passed muster into her tub. It was maddening. The best part was the evil glances they kept giving me while I waited. And since I was growing a bit impatient, I decided to make a move in to the sway. And that's when individual-piece-of-lettuce lady threw the block, almost a hip check really, so I could not enter the veggie zone. Wow. But since I was raised a gentleman, I could not punch either lady in the side of the head like I so desperately wanted.

My saving grace was they saw some poor schmo looking to buy some clams or a piece of Chilean Sea Bass (which is neither from Chile or a bass), and looked to give him a hard time.

And after some time, I was able to fill my container with my choice of farm-fresh produce and go on my way. Rough.

Maybe I should have gone for a slice instead.