ALCS Game 3
Chris Phelan, my co-worker, just saw Torre checking into the Ritz surronded by police. I gave a half hearted "Let's Go Sox." He didn't look up, but he smiled.
Anyone want to wear their "Jeter has AIDS" T-shirt to the Ritz bar tonight? I'll wear my "22-0."
2-0 is a hole, 3-0 is a goddamn black hole, I don't care what Stephen Hawking says.
Your corn rows are so true.
Beer Canyon, Beer Canyon.
All our hopes ride on you.
The sons of Tito may be idiots,
but I have a penant in my heart.
<i>I will pause to channel Robert Lowell at this time....</i>
Crap.
Can we get a decent ALCS Game 3 poem up in this piece?
(to start, and often worse)
we think'st thou shalt pull the trigger
upon this loathsome curse.
Oh, Bronson, beers all in thy canyon,
man about the town,
we hope you pitch with wild abandon
and beat that Kevin Brown.
Actually, Pug's is a cozy family bar in my neighborhood. Two reasonably sized flat screens, PBR on draft.
O
L
Y
S
H
I
T
!
While Im not gonna switch, its hard not to consider the tempting "If you can't beat em join em" argument.... And Then I see Jeter's face and my sense of resolve is renewed 10 fold... This is an evil team that needs to be destroyed!
Lets implode this black hole and get to the World Series! Otherwise, Im gettin ready to shift my attention to the Pats once again...
ho hum...