On the Road with Dennis and Michael

The Charles Kuralt and Jack Kerouac of this blogosphere are blissfully gallivanting from major league stadium to major league stadium, so I figured the GTB homebase (re: my tiny ass cube) should at least attempt to recap their (mis)adventures in this space...the following is pieced together from text and voice messages as well as a little something I like to call poetic license...

Cleveland - Saturday, July 22
Jerry "The King" Lawler throws out the first pitch. I don't know about you, but I couldn't think of a better way to start a trip of this nature. Travis Hafner then proceeds to pummel Lawler with a 2x4 behind the mound. The Tribe destroy the Twins 11-0, which is pretty amazing given that it's Minnesota's only loss in their last 13 games. Up and coming rookie Jeremy "Golden" Sowers gets the W for Cleveland and hunky Grady Sizemore (huh?) leads the offensive attack. Dennis informs me via text he's downed a sausage (presumably not Michael's) and 4 beers by the 2nd inning. The boys end the night perusing the "Ladies of Rock" exhibit at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Cincinnati - Sunday, July 23
Dennis and Michael hit the Queen City next, with "Mill-e-wah-que" in town. The Reds manage to lose to Tomo Ohka ("What's he, like 45? I could hit him") and the Brew Crew 4-1. However, in a strange twist of fate, Dennis gets to see GTB fav Danny Knob return to his role as Brewers closer...with Derrick Turnbow immediately being sent down to Fraggle Rock. The fellas finish the night downing brews with two local DJs who go by the names Dr. Johnny Fever and Venus Fly Trap.

Chicago (White Sox) - Monday, July 25 (I think...could've been Tuesday's game)
Michael informs me via text they have seats right behind the White Sox bullpen. I inform Michael he needs to immediately start tossing pieces of hot dog at the svelte Bobby Jenks. I guess it doesn't matter whether they were at Monday or Tuesday's game, because Chicago managed to blow both of them, and is in complete freefall right now. The impending Ozzie Guillen explosion is going to be AWESOME. Lance Bass better watch out. After being overserved, Dennis and Michael storm the field, perform the "Dance of Joy" in CF (much to Jermaine Dye's delight), and manage to escape before security can treat them like the second coming of the esteemed Ligue Dynasty.

Milwaukee - Wednesday, July 26
Pittsburgh, an unbelievable 12-40 on the road coming in, manages to beat Chris Capuano and the Brewers 8-4 (Jason Bay, who is fucking awesome, leads the way for the Pirates). Dennis manages to punch Bud Selig in the face. Somehow during the game the boys run into friends of a guy we once knew, "Noonan", otherwise known as Joyner's gay lover. I will definitely need alot more than a three word text message to explain that one. Much to the chagrin of Dennis' wife, the boys end the evening on a double-date at Pizza Bowl with two chicks from the bottling plant down the street.

I have no clue what the next game on the slate is...it might be Cubs/Cards today...all I know is I'm jealous...

GTB's "This Day in History"

July 26, 1991 - In sleepy Sarasota, FL, Paul Reubens gets busted for working his little man during the Oscar-winning flick "Nurse Nancy". The film, starring screen legends Sandra Scream and Peter North, is apparently so good Pee-Wee Herman (as he's known to a legion of kids raised by him and his Playhouse pals) can't help but celebrate the film's excellence by rubbing one out...making him an international punchline overnight. God bless ya Pee Wee, the supply of jokes was endless...a sampling from the way-back machine:

Did you hear that Pee-Wee declined representation?
He figures he can get himself off

Do you know who Pee-Wee's insurance company is?
All-State, the good-hands people

Did you hear about the new Pee-Wee Herman doll?
It pulls its own string

So endeth our first installment of "This Day in History". We'll be back soon enough with all our N.A.S.A and Joey Buttafuocco jokes. And perhaps even an update from "Dennis and Michael's Excellent Adventure". Oh yeah, Happy Independence Day to all you Liberians out there...

Coming Soon To Theatres Everywhere...

One fat guy, one skinny guy, one fuel-efficient roadster, 5 baseball stadiums...what started as a simple road trip for the summer, ended as a spiritual journey for life...

Dennis and Michael Jack begin the magical misery tour tomorrow morning bright and early...wish us luck. Here's hoping we manage to not only capture the sights and sounds of the nation's past time, as seen through the eyes of the Heartland, but also perhaps the world-record for drunk text/voice messages sent in a 7 day period.

Likely progression of events:

1)....

2)...

3)...

4)...

5)...

6)...

Hear No Drivel, Read No Drivel, Speak No Drivel

Humor is never quite as free-flowing and funny as when things aren't going well. (See the dearth of good comedy at Misery Loves Company these days for an example.)

Last night's Yankees-Mariners game featured a blown call at first base in the ninth inning that enabled the Yankes to come back and win. Horrible call, in fact. And the Seattle fans were up in arms, with angry blurts like:

"Toughest five outs in baseball are the bottom of the 9th in Yankee Stadium."

"Was that the ref from the Super Bowl?"

And this image (and the play wasn't nearly this close).

Unfortunately, laughing at the poor M's fans didn't offset my nausea that the YES booth induced. Ugh. Upon seeing the replay of the botched call -- and trust me, even live action was obvious -- Jim Kaat remarked that it "definitely was a tie." Unfortunately for Kaat, the timing was such that a half-second after he said it, another replay -- slowed down and zoomed in -- showed Jorge Posada's cleat a good three feet from the bag when the ball reached Richie Sexson's mitt. It was a huge deal that the broadcast team then acknowledged, in two seconds of garbled stammer, that the ump had blown the call; then they immediately moved on to praise the Yankees' heroics for playing ball in the rain, never to mention this transgression again.

Of course, the Yankees came back and won. They're a better team and should be given credit. In fact, they're good enough on their own merit and don't need a trio of propagandizers to inflate their legacy. The New York Yankees have been doing this a while now. I think it's time to push them out of the nest and let them stand on their own 50 feet, guys. They don't need your fact-skewing, rah-rah reminders, and blind homerism any more.

Oh, nor the drippy melodrama. Michael Kay's call as Melky Cabrera closed out the game with a big fly:

". . . and a child shall lead them . . ."

Nice booth for you, TJ.

"He was born a pauper to a pawn on a Christmas day..."

Ponson wears his pot belly like a crown
He calls his child Jesus
'cause he likes the name
And he sends him to the finest franchise in town

Ponson, Ponson likes his money
He makes a lot they say
Spend his days counting
In a bullpen by the motorway

He was born a pauper to a pawn on a Christmas day
When the New York Post said the Yanks are dead
And the wars begun
Brian Cashman has a son today

And he shall be Ponson
And he shall be a good man
And he shall be Ponson
In tradition with the family plan
And he shall be Ponson
And he shall be a good man
He shall be Ponson

Ponson throws cartoon sliders in town
His family business thrives
Jesus blows up balloons all day
Sits on the porch swing watching them fly

And Jesus, he wants to go to Venus
Leaving Ponson far behind
Take a balloon and go sailing
While Ponson, Ponson slowly dies...

You take the good, you take the bad...

You take them both, and there you have,
The NL West, The NL West...

Humor me this morning, and try to think of the National League West as the Eastland School for Young Women (trust me, this worked in my head...and some credit, or blame, for this post must be given to Whit)

San Diego Padres, 48-40
They won this atrocious division last year and they're leading this slightly less atrocious division at the All-Star Break, so by default the Padres step into Charlotte Rae's (smelly) shoes as the kind and understanding Mrs. Garrett. The rest of the division looks up to these guys (literally), despite their obvious offensive deficiencies, and when the Giants are about to have their Eastland scholarship revoked, who do you think they turn to? That's right, the always-there-for you Padres. Despite whatever I say in the next few paragraphs, my pick to win the NL West is still the Padres, but it sure ain't because they hit the ball well. The pitching staff is first in the National League in ERA, Shutouts and Batting Average Against. That's a recipe for success. You could fill out a lineup card with 9 Rick Allens and still manage back-to-back division titles.

[All-Star Game Observation #1 - Nice of Cousin Eddie to lend Alex Rodriguez his shoes for the game.]

Los Angeles Dodgers, 46-42, 2 GB
This one is WAY too easy. Let's see...wealthy, attractive and spoiled - hmmm, no doubt the Dodgers bump Lisa Whelchel and play Blair Warner in the 2007 Lifetime Channel "Fats of Life" Reunion Special. It's not mentioned too often, because folks are often blinded by the Yankees $200 million payroll, but the Dodgers dropped $100 million on this team...and for that they get a team 4 games above .500 in a piss-poor division? If you ask me that's a travesty. No matter how many runs Nomar Hamm and the lineup post, there is no chance a pitching staff running Aaron Sele and Mark Hendrickson out there is going to win a division. And let's not even get into their terrible fan base...

Colorado Rockies, 44-43, 3.5 GB
Ah yes, the upstart Rockies, still relatively new to the division...plump and impressionable, but sneaky impressive, just like Natalie Green (Mindy Cohn). The young Rockies hitters certainly do gobble up pitching the way Natalie did cupcakes, but much like that wide load there is too much extra baggage for the Rocks to make the leap this year. HOWEVAH, you keep this nucleus of Matt Holliday, Brad Hawpe, Garrett Atkins and even Clint Barmes together for a few years, toss in a few more arms like Jason Jennings and Jeff Francis who can handle pitching in Colorado, and you're looking at the (ice) cream of the crop in the '08 NL West.

[All-Star Game Observation #2 - Brian Fuentes has a face that would make Seal blush, if Seal can even blush.]

San Francisco Giants, 45-44, 3.5 GB
I'm letting the Giants play Jo Polniaczek because of the amazing similarities between Nancy McKeon's character and Mr. Barry Bonds...namely the "maintaining a tough exterior to hide insecurities" part. And, of course, by insecurities I mean "rampant steroid use". But, unlike Jo, who managed bigger and better things after Eastland (Langley College), Barry Bonds is going down, and soon, and he's taking his whole team with him. You think things got ugly with Jason Grimsley and the Diamondbacks (more on that in a moment), just wait until the Bonds shit hits the fans. Any chance we can bring "Bonds on Bonds" back for a series (re: career) finale?

[All-Star Game Observation #3 - Derrick Turnbow is most definitely a Jim Henson creation, perhaps from the Dark Crystal days.]

Arizona Diamondbacks, 43-45, 5 GB
The Diamondbacks get to don some rollerskates and take on Kim Fields' role of Dorothy "Tootie" Ramsey, mainly because she was the show's resident gossip, and Jason Grimsley easily surpassed any damage Tootie's loose lips might've caused Mrs. Garrett and the girls. Formerly the division leader, Grimsley's affidavit torpedoed an otherwise surprising run to the playoffs for Arizona. And you know some of the guys left in that clubhouse are praying those names don't get released...Hi Luis! The best reality show on TV this summer won't be "America's Got Talent" - it's going to be the circus surrounding the bottom-feeding Giants and Diamondbacks as the steroid saga (finally) publicly destroys several big-time baseball players. And I'll be watching.

There's a time you gotta go and show, You're growin' now,
You know about The NL West, the NL West...

My Friday Gift to You

Work got in the way of anything decent coming your way, so instead enjoy this piece of comedic genius...

"Um, I've got some spoilers. Who wants to hear a spoiler? Here's a spoiler: You will die alone."

"Follow me...follow me to freedom!"

Possibly the second greatest SportsCenter commercial of all time, Charley Steiner's famous line seemed like an appropriate title for this post, which is a very long-winded way of saying Happy Independence Day America (fuck yeah!). Since I am stuck at work with several other mindless drones today (it's so miserable I can't even describe it), I have of course been trying to come up with the perfect "Happy 4th of July" post/picture. Pasted below are the two best I could come up with...needless to say, it's been a looooong day...

GOD BLESS AMERICA

AND ITS OBVIOUS COMPLEMENT (SPECIAL THANKS TO THE BLACK CROWES)

OK, now that we have sufficiently recovered from the Savage Garden above, GTB would like to thank NL All-Star manager Phil Garner for recognizing the talent of our boy Dan Uggla, who was named as a reserve to the All-Star team yesterday. GTB and the entire Uggla family will be sending Mr. Garner a Hickory Farms sausage and cheese basket as thanks. As for the rest of this All-Star game talk...enough already. It's only been half a day, and I am already sick of the "snub" discussion...can't we talk about this ridiculous catch by Gary Matthews Jr. instead?