Damon Is My Homeboy

the Game 7 running diary

All right, God, let's get one thing clear: you hate me, and I hate you even more! But if you let the Sox post the Biggest Comeback in the History Of Mankind over the Yankmes in their false house of worship I will drastically reduce the blasphemy.

For instance, using pigfucker in lieu of goddamn.

Amen.

Also, I have prepared this plate of cookies & milk. If you would like me to devour them in your abscence, give me absolutely no sign.

Thy will be done.

*munch munch munch*

*gulp*

4: After two straight days of rain, the sun actually emerges to fend off the rain. Looking for an optimistic sign? You bet your ass I am, there's a reason I started off with "Rusty Cage" instead of "The Day I Tried To Live" like usual.

4:45: Houston vs. St. Louis? Did anybody realize this was happening? Does the winner get the Robert Barone Cup? I want answers!

4:48: THE O.C. IS BACK NEXT MONTH!...uh...not that I care about that crap. Boy if Summer doesn't go back to Seth I am going to be pissed. What? Stop judging me with your eyes!

4:52: There's a hot brunette next to me, which is all to the good. Except she's got Starbucks. And a dog in her purse. Something must be done about this. I am not the man to do so; I'm just saying in general. I mean, women, c'mon, if you want to emulate Paris have more sex on tape! Jeez!

5:10: Jim Edmonds becomes everybody's favorite guy in the bar for 30, 35 seconds, knocking one out with 12 minutes left to go on Fox's time limit. Everybody is for the Sox except one Japanese guy in a Matsui Japanese uniform. It becomes hilariously sad as he is the only one clapping at certain junctions, and then no clapping.

5:20: "Under Pressure" AND "Guerilla Radio". Fox must be trying to get on my good side or something. Guess who said it: "He's a Yankee, and he dated Jessica Alba. By all rules and statutes I should be allowed to KILL HIM!"

5:22: You are FULLY IMMERSED in Fred's Mexican Restaurant! Alongside me is my boy Danny, born from a long line of Sawx fans.

5:26: Danny comes in and immediately proves his worth off the wingman waiver wire when referring to the Unholy Trinity in the booth: did I mention how much I HATE these motherfuckers?

5:39: "FUCKING JETER!" Yes, I am yelling "YOU SUCK!" at Jeter & A-Hole every time I see them. And I'm still sober.

5:40: Johnny Damon may look like God. David Ortiz IS God. Who's your motherfucking Papi?!

5:45: "From now on, the term 'Hi, I'm David Ortiz.' will be shortly followed by a zipper unzipping."
"Or knees hitting the floor."
"Either way."

6:08: The Yankees pitch coach is on the horn, and it's not to talk to Stat Boy. Me: "Suicide hotline? Yeah, I'll hold..."

6:15: What inspired Danny to find me again after 12 years. Seeing Stuart Scott on SportsCenter, reminding him of the youth we pissed away talking sports. Johnathon Damon. Doing the Bull Dance. Feeling the energy. Working, working.

6:15:28: Yours truly: AND THE LORD SAID YOU *GOT* TO RISE UP-AH!

6:20: The next table over, full of displaced Bostonians: it's going to be Paul Revere, David Ortiz, and Sam Adams.

6:31: "I'm talking to grains of salt. This can't be good." Right before the Grand Slam Heard 'Round the World I had I my lucky green mushroom 1-Up hat and put the salt in off the side of the margarita Danny ordered for me. So now the first empty glass is there and I have to recreate it with all subsequent margaritas. Danny would have me commited except it seems to be working. I now take back everything bad I ever said about Tom Coughlin.

6:45: Jeter scores a run. I apologize, and put my hat on.

6:55: Je sus WALKS godshowmetheway'causethedevil'stryingtobringmeDOWWWN Je sus WALKS with me. BEDLAM. And Danny wanted a triple. I SCOFF AT YOUR PUNY TRIPLES! The Japanese guy has a look that clearly says "Where can I commit hari-kiri?"

7:10: Danny, with no trace of irony: We need more runs. George was less flustered after the Kung Pao.

7:27: I feel guilty about the Yankees I don't go out of my way to insult, like I drew the third slot in that spin-the-wheel-make-the-snap-about-your-momma game on In Living Color. "And you! I don't know you! But your momma! Oh! She...really...uh...needs to do something with her hair! YEAH!"

7:31: They still make Aqua Velva? Is there a lighter fluid shortage? Has it yet been proven Aqua Velva and Old Spice are, in fact, seperate entities? HMM?!

7:45: The magic number is NINE.

7:52: Inside the Mind of Terry Francona: What color do I want my Jetstream? Blue? It'd match the water...nah. OOH, grey! No, that won't work. White! No, white gets dirty, I don't want to be cleaning it all the time. GREEN. Yeah. Well, maybe with a silver stripe or something....damn, how did Martha Stewart DO THIS all those years?

8:04: Danny is beginning to look more paranoid than a Black Sabbath classic. I assure him me & the magic hat will keep away the demons.

8:08: Pedro starts eroding. Finished with my woman 'cause she couldn't help me with my mind...

8:15: You ever hear 40 people unclench at once? It sounds like something metallic falling down a well. Kinda creepy. Danny bows to me calling the groundball in advance and learns my old parable about the tree and the elephant.

8:24: The taunting phone calls have begun. Any other year I'd smell Deep Fucking Shit. Not tonight. Even Danny relaxes for a second or two when Damon gets back on-screen: God is on our side. Then he changes his name to Daniel X, Daniel Akbar, and Prophet DW just to be sure he's covered all the religious bases.

8:32: THREE.

8:50: The place is BUZZING. It's like Christmas Eve at P. Diddy's house.

8:56: Casually, to Danny & the neighboring table: This is all drama. The game is going to end at EXACTLY midnight their time. The carriage turning into a pumpkin, all that good crap.

9: Don't you EVER question me! Former telemedia major, I know how the game is played! Oh, also..

9:00:17: Everyone experiences the climatic moment of a favorite Negro spiritual called cel uh brate good times C'MON!

9:05: "What's white & black and chokes?" The biggest fan in the joint, who had a caballero vs. caballero with his Yankee-loving boss, thinks this may be the best joke ever. I am personally a fan of the two midgets who get hookers and adjoining rooms.

I'm not as big a baseball fan as I used to be, but after this, I'm all the way behind the SAWX. Could it be because they beat Al-Queda in pinstripes, thus concluding the

BIGGEST

CHOKE

EVER?

Probably. The fact is, I got to watch history tonight. This is almost as good as the Bucs beating the Raiders up the block.

Mushroom hat: $6.
Dinner: $23.
Watching the Yankmes blow it all like an overeager priest on their homefield after being three outs away from winning the series: PRICELESS.

I like to think the last thing that went through Steinbrenner's head, other than that bullet...

Ambient music: Guns N' Roses covering "Knockin' On Heaven's Door"