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Dear Mr. Papelbon,
The Red Sox just suffered another loss to the Baltimore Orioles -- with you on the mound and the post season on the line -- punctuating the greatest September swoon in the history of Major League Baseball and your post game quote was, "I don't know what anyone else in the clubhouse is feeling, but, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
Really, Pap? Fuckin' really!?
That's all you got one night after you nearly broke an arm patting yourself on the back telling anyone with a microphone and camera how much you love "pressure situations?" You love them so much, in fact, that if we "checked the tape from [the previous] night's win you'd see me smiling."
Was that bravado real or were you just showing off because Heidi's tits were in view? It's an honest question, Pap. I'd say just about anything if Ms. Watney was that close to me and a shower. Or, as I like to call it, the sanctuary of self abuse.
Listen, Jonathan, I appreciate you taking the "professional" approach to your team's historic collapse. I really do. But maybe taking a little ownership of the defeat instead of quoting Zen-like proverbs would've been better received by the constituents of Red Sox Nation. After all, sometimes professionalism can be misconstrued as indifference.
Just ask Bill Belichick.
The thing is, you're right. That which does not kill you DOES make you stronger. If you can't strike out a number 9 hitter in Baltimore with your team's season in the balance it won't kill you.
It'll just kill your career.
Disappointedly Yours,
sports+thoughts
Spokesman, Red Sox Nation
I wasn't surprised when we lost to Buffalo.
Not even a little bit.
What did surprise me, however, was the WAY we lost. Championship teams don't blow 21 point leads. Period. Championship teams go up big and then they stay up big. That's what makes them champions.
Our New England Patriots are not a championship team.
I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Patriot Nation, but our great offense and less than mediocre defense means we'll be lucky to finish a few games above .500 this season. And by "less than mediocre" I mean "dead last in the league." 11-5 is a realistic expectation.
So is another first round playoff loss.
Don't say I didn't warn you come January.
#youhearditherefirst
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Quick Thinking
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-- Red Sox Nation has gone from the most popular kid in school to the pimple-faced girl who smells like cabbage sitting alone in the corner of the cafeteria.
-- And it only took 3 weeks.
-- I hear she has a great personality, though.
-- Ochocinco's Drop Heard 'Round the World™ is further proof that practice performance is the best indicator of game performance.
-- That's right, Allen. I'm talking about practice.
-- Our second half woes against Buffalo also tell you how important Hernandez is to the Patriots' winning offensive equation.
-- And I'm not even that good at math.
-- After an initial text saying, "I gotta tell you, my kids kill my sex life." was met by 20 minutes of silence on my end because I was nowhere near my phone, Big Nick earns Quote of the Week honors for his follow up text that read, "Sorry. Didn't mean to gross you out."
-- Funnier than any contrived, trying too hard drivel you see on textsfromlastnight.com.
-- I'm a fan of Mr. Holley and all but "The Big Show" is the worst sports radio program on air today.
-- And was well before his arrival.
-- Week 3 is in the books and we're still hitting the Over Line better than 60% of the time.
-- Ok. I lied. I'm actually pretty strong at math.
-- Still does me zero good without a bookie.
-- Big ups to Ben & Jerry's for finally supporting the veracity of a claim I regularly made in college that my junk does, in fact, taste like ice cream.
-- Yummy!
-- Speaking of Schweddy Balls, how 'bout this late September heat wave we've been having, huh? Where's the Gold Bond powder when you need it?!
-- Found it!
-- Ohhhhhhh, tingly.
Watching Coach Belichick's A Football Life on the NFL network taught me two very important things.
The first is this: football is the most visceral and memorable of all the major sports. And I'm not just talking on the field of play, y'all. I'm talking about for us. For the fans.
Hear me out.
They say smell is the sense most tied to memory. And I agree. I remember getting day drunk and going to a TMBG concert in the early 90's with my boy Big Nick only because of the perfume a young lady in front of us was wearing. Big Nick has the same memory.
True story.
But watching highlights from the Patriots' 2009 season during A Football Life allowed me to recall, with absolute clarity, where I was, who I was with and what I was doing during each game. In some instances, I could tell you exactly what I was wearing, eating and even drinking.
Every detail comes racing back.
Does that mean the collective senses used when watching football highlights are the most tied to memory? I don't know. We'll need far more empirical data but it appears to be the case for me.
And, in the spirit of being honest, it really is all about me. Isn't it?
Oh, and the second, less insightful thing watching A Football Life taught me was that Bill Belichick is, hands down, the gayest rollerskating pirate I've ever seen.
Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure a gay pirate is the only kind that actually goes rollerskating.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
