catslash: (Kenny)
( Sep. 26th, 2010 05:17 pm)
Yesterday I watched the Red Sox-Yankees game with my grandmother. I haven't seriously watched baseball in a long time - my attention span finally gave out, plus I probably burned myself out on it a little. I was reading some of my old entries last night, some of them are pretty intense. While baseball had my attention, it had ALL my attention, and some of the teams I followed (of COURSE I followed more than one at a time, see above in re: attention span) were absolutely insane and exhausting. I'm not sure how I didn't lose my damn mind. Actually, I think I did a few times.

But anyway, I still get game score alerts for my teams, and since my grandmother has become an ardent Red Sox fan in the last couple of years, watching a game with her is a lot of fun. Except I still don't pay much attention overall, and you know what? Baseball may still be kind of static in my head, but it's moved on.

A lot of guys are in the wrong damn uniforms these days. The Yankees need to stop signing/trading for players I still love, what the hell. Curtis Granderson got a homerun yesterday and I couldn't decide whether to cheer or swear. And I see you in those pinstripes, Lance Berkman, don't you think for a second that you can hide.

But anyway. Seeing some familiar faces got me all nostalgic, and I ended up spending entirely too much time reading a slew of entries from some certain old RP journals. (Hey, [livejournal.com profile] americanleaguer, did we ever talk about this in any depth? It seems like we should have, but I can't remember!) So out of curiosity, I Googled Bondo.

And I . . . I really picked the right day to do that.

When potential free agent Jeremy Bonderman was asked if he feels he'll be back, he replied "honestly, probably not."

Brandon Inge hopes Jeremy Bonderman won't call it a career. (I see Inge is still the go-to guy for a few quotes. Heh.)

This is probably old news to everyone else, but I am WTFing. Jeremy Bonderman, if you end up in pinstripes, I am going to be so mad at you.
catslash: (prefer not to)
( Jul. 30th, 2006 02:07 pm)
TRADE DEADLINE IS COMING TRADE DEADLINE IS COMING AAUUUUGH.

I hate trade deadline. I really do. I have been burrrrned so bad by both of the ones I've seen since I got into baseball.

2004. Anger. Lots of it. A a calmer follow-up post. (In retrospect, both of these are pretty funny. But I'm getting ahead of myself.)

2005. Sour grapes. Heartbreak and despair. This was hands down worse than 2004. I still bear the scars.

And yeah, I know, it's all worked out. The guys we traded Nomar for, Cabrera and Mientkiewicz, helped us get to the postseason and ultimately win the World Series for the first time in, gee, how many years again? The guys we traded Farnsworth for, Roman Ramon Colon and Zach Miner, have been helpful for bolstering the bullpen (Colon) and turning in some sweet starts while Maroth recuperates from surgery (Miner); meanwhile, Farnsworth went on to give the Division Series away to my Astros, then commit the ultimate crime by signing with the Yankees (BOO HISS GARGLE), and now he sucks.

But y'know, that doesn't help. I couldn't care less about Nomar these days and I still feel a clunk when I think about the moment I learned about that trade. I hate Farnsworth and laugh when he craps all over the mound and my stomach still sinks when I think about hysterically smoking a cigarette and babbling to patient and sweet [livejournal.com profile] manderspander about all the varied reasons why that trade was the Worst Thing Ever.

And I can't help but wait for something to go wrong this year. I know the odds are rather more in my favor with the players I like best. But. That's what I thought the last two years too. I thought they couldn't possibly get away with trading Nomar. It never even occurred to me that the Tigers would trade their best reliever. I was wrong.

So tomorrow, I'm probably just going to stay away from my computer and from baseball period until the Red Sox game (BOOMAH RETURNS!), and try to distract myself with fun things. And then I will come home and see what I see.
.

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