Idiots Write About Sports

The Red Sox responded to my pissy little complaints about their lack of victories against the hated Angels of Greater Southern California by notching a victory to split the series with the Halos. Naturally, I take full credit for Boston’s sudden display of resolve. Since we have already established in my fevered imagination that Kevin Millar spends his free time looking up his name on Google, it is clear that he came across the aforementioned blog entry and, suitably chastened, encouraged his teammates to give it the ol’ college try. No need to thank me for my words of inspiration, Red Sox fans — it is a gift I must share with the world.
As it turns out, if anyone deserved a vitriolic post ridiculing them for not getting the job done, it was the Oakland A’s, who spend Sunday dropping their second consecutive game to the hapless Kansas City Royals and then continued Capitulation Fest ‘05 by going through the motions against the Detroit Tigers on Tuesday night. Half-hearted swings, body language that screamed “Defeat!” — it’s enough to make a fan take poison pen in hand and rip his team a new one, especially after the Sox proved that’s the one way to get things done these days.
Trust me, A’s players: a sternly worded letter is in the works.
In other Boston-related updates, poster Beth has yet to respond to my generous offer to donate $150 to The Jimmy Fund the next time I attend an incident-free Boston Red Sox Game. The Old Phil would feign mock surprise that a Red Sox fan would post unpleasant remarks and then retreat into the safety of anonymity, but the new Phil — he’s all about building bridges and mending fences and other chore-themed metaphors. And so I repeat my generous offer: $150 to the Jimmy Fund if I can attend a Sox-A’s game without being hassled by a drunken New Englander. This is a standing offer: now will it be accepted or is the radio silence a tacit admission that wagering on Sox fans to mind their manners is a sucker’s bet? Maybe she figures there’s no need to get the kids’ hopes up, only to have them dashed when Murph and Sully pour beer over my head. Oh, won’t someone think of the children?