(no subject)

I am pretending that the trade deadline does not exist. There is no trade deadline. There are no appallingly random rumors floating around. There is no bizarre and contrived controversy timed conveniently so the media can run another player out of town. Tomorrow I will be calm, and chill, and will hang out with manderspander, and will not at all be checking for news every ten minutes, experiencing vivid flashbacks to cleaning out the coffee center and having a coworker waltz up and announce that Nomar was gone.

There is no trade deadline.

There is, however, the fact that thanks to work, I was the last person on the planet to know that Alan Embree had signed with the Yankees. By the time I got home, he'd already fucked up his first game in pinstripes. And apparently he's lost the goatee, which probably makes him look even stupider than I think it does.

Oh, Alan. I'm glad you're still playing - I was sad this morning when I opened the paper to find that no one had bitten and you'd been released - but the Yankees? That's even worse than the Devil Rays.

Unless, of course, you are still on the Red Sox payroll. Then it would be okay, because that is hilarious. It was all a ruse! He deliberately inflated his ERA and blew games as part of an elaborate plot masterminded by Theo Epstein, so now when he goes in and destroys games for the Yankees, no one will suspect a thing! Theo is brilliant.

(no subject)

The world will not allow me to pretend there is not a trade deadline, for Manny seems to have disappeared.

This is not good.

(no subject)

Manny. Thank goodness. He's out of the game because someone (we don't know who, could be Terry, could be Manny) thought it best that he not play with all the shit going on. After the way he got booed yesterday, I wouldn't blame Manny if it was him not wanting to play. Just imagine, though, if his last game with us had seen him getting booed by our fans. Horrible.

So, no trade.

Yet.