Corey Lidle's Final Gamble

The story of another inexperienced pilot, with more money than brains, ala John Kennedy, Jr.

There once was a pitcher named Corey
Who pitched for Bronx Bomber glory
He flew in his plane
The controls they did wane
And now he's the 70th story

Lidle was cruising until he felt a twinge in his elbow. legs. head. torso...

He was cruising until 72nd St came up with the big hit to end the game.

In the last inning he ran out of gas and hit the wall.

Lidle shook off the Air Traffic Controller once too often and the result was a sacrifice fly. (copyright MK)

A Yankee finally got a hit with a man on. (copyright MD)

Nice While It Lasted

Whatever the reason, it is over. Thanks for a decent year, anyway. I should know better to have epectations after so many years of Learned Helplessness caused by Battered Sox Fan Syndrome. Now Reisndorf has over $4,000 of my playoff money in his pocket as a deposit on next season. No, i didn't have a choice.

Busy Sunday

7:00 Wake up. Turn over.
8:00 Really get up. Take meds. Feed dogs. Make coffee.
8:30 Get twins up. Eat Cheerios.
9:00 take twins to riding lessons at the barn.
10:30 Get home. Fart around on line.
11:00 Make bacon for Julia.
11:20 Clean out dryer vent ducts with vaccy. Yuk
12:00 Start watching Bears.
1:00 God this game is boring. 45 minutes for the 1st quarter. Commercials everywhere. 3-3
1:05 Start helping girls clean rooms.
2:15 Throw out seven bags of trash from said cleanings.
2:20 Rest, watch rest of game.
3:00 Okay, that was an exciting ending. Bears stumble into a win.
3:05 Watch Sox. They go up 10-4 on a Uribe grand salami.
3:25 They let the Mariners back in, but eventually slog to victory. Twins win. Tragic number = 2.
3:30 Go downstairs for half hour on treadmill.
4:00 Okay, now to pick up dog crap outside.
4:15 Now to pull out tomato plants. What a disappointing year. Cut some late roses, put in vases.
4:30 Cut down some more basil, clean, freeze.
4:40 Cut sunflowers way back. Deadhead black-eyed susans. Hmm Try a granny smith off the tree.
4:50 Eeew grannys still real sour. I guess they do need another month.
5:00 Watch Giada on Food Netowrk. She is in ITALY! Some day.
5:30 Off to KFC for the kids' popcorn chicken. I am making pesto for me and DW, and will crack open some vino.

Still Alive

This is so painful. Thanks, Freddy Garcia for extending our demise another day. Go, White Sox, go.

Not So Much

Buehrle's ability in big games. Or small games. Or any games these days. +sigh+

R.I.P.

The "Jack" on the left is the poor, loyal Sox fan, shocked and saddened by the September death spiral. The one on the right is the Sox-hater, usually of the Cub variety, gleeful with Schadenfreude. The one in the middle is happy the Bears are 2-0, and glad he doesn't have to worry about missing playoff games while vacationing in Europe in October.

Somebody remember to turn off the lights when they leave the Cell next Sunday evening.

Lost Loves

Tonight the White Sox open a three game series with the formidable Oakland Athletics. The A's will be led tonight by two former Pale Hosers: Frank Thomas and Esteban Loaiza, both of whom were jettisoned from the team for being non-contributional. No doubt they are highly motivated to get personal revenge and keep their own march toward October moving smoothly. The StankyCranky Braniac superComputer had the A's winning the series two out of three. The Sox picked up a key game in besting LA two of three, thereby raising their win projection back to the original prediction of 91.

How about the Snowy Stockings just run the table and finish with 100 victories?

The Illusionist

I don't go to many movies. This one intrigued me for three reasons: A period piece, set in early twentieth century Austria. Secondly, a movie about magic. I am a sucker for quality magic shows. Third, Jessica Biel, an earthy, smoky beauty. I liked it a lot. Is it a brilliant, deep movie? No. It is a love story/mystery. Edward Norton was suitably contemplative as the hero. Rufus Sewell, who played the prince, was creepily malevolent and kaiser-like in his portrayal. Paul Giammatti is a brilliant actor, the Walter Brennan of our time. Go see it or watch it on DVD on the TeeVee when it comes out.

One For Eight

2 Strikeouts and a walk in Tuesday's 11 inning, 4-3 loss to the Halos. Somebody tell Konerko and Thome they are in a pennant race. Dye gets a pass for his 0 for 5 because he has been money lately. One-fer 13 in the middle of the order sounds worse, though, doesn't it?

White Bread Pom Squad

There was a picture of the Carmel High School (in Mundelein, IL) Pom Squad in today's Daily Herald. There was a Michelle and a Lauren and a Melissa, two Kaitlyns and a Katlyn, but no Waneshas, Toneshas, Juanitas or Consuelas. Hmm, now I know why so many neighbors send their kids to the Catholic high school. Religion? Maybe. Better education? Maybe. How about no african americans or hispanics like that gross Warren High School or grungy Mundelein High School. Maybe.

Daily Herald story
Carmel poms bring home trophies
Posted Monday, September 11, 2006

The Carmel Catholic High School Varsity Poms Squad recently attended Universal Dance Association (UDA) Dance Camp at Illinois State University and the team captured a first-place trophy for their home routine in the Large Varsity Division and a superior trophy for their overall performance at camp.

They also qualified for the UDA 2007 National Dance Team Competition in Orlando, Fla., in February.

90 Wins a Probability

The "StankyCranky Braniac 2010" superComputer predicted this series correctly. The White Sox split with the pesky Spiders of Cleveland. Although Vazquez dueled the brogmodian C.C. Sabathia admirably, he had to yield to the Sox bullpen, and once more Brandon McCarthy, the cross-eyed-anorexic righthander came through with a home run pitch. B-Mac is 'posed to be in the Sox rotation next year, but with an over-the-top straight fastball and a predictible delivery, B-Mac needs a re-tooling before becoming a starting mainstay.

Now the ChiSox must face a six game West Coast swing, traditionally a death march for the Pale Hose. First, a long, quiet plane ride to the OC. Then three games against the Angels, whose fans cannot get over the 2005 ALCS debacle and hence hate AJ Pierzynski and the Sox with a passion. After a day off, they play three against the AL West leaders, the Oakland A's. the Af-letics are led by the resurgent Large Francis, who already has six homers in September.

The win total holds at 90, and maybe only a total collapse by the Tigers can save the Sox playoff hopes. The Brainiac predicts a 2-6 West Coast swing to hold at the ninety win prediction.

We Trip We Trip We Trip Trip Trip Trip

The White Sox managed to lose to Julian Tavarez in Fenway last night. A Cubs cast off and well-traveled innings-eater, Tavarez had the Sox hitters tied in knots. Hawk keeps talking about the Sox batters' approach at the plate, about making adjustments. He noticed early on last night that Tavarez was throwing two sliders first, then two fastballs. The Sox hitters did not seem to pick this up. Does anyone reading this think the Sox hitters are making adjustments or are they engaged in Big League milk-straining trying to win the game with each swing?

As I watch this team I think of the lute-playing Daffy Duck playing Robin Hood, singing and falling down a hill at the same time.

Stumbling Toward October

This set-up's computer bank and staff of gelatinous-headed stats freaks projected 91 wins for the Pale Hose this year, based upon their September schedule. That is until Kansas City took 2 out of 3 this weekend by beating the Sox on Sunday behind the guile of crafty lefty Mark Redman. Just like Paul Byrd, Jamie Moyer, Brad Radke and others, Redman had the Sox chasing junk out of the zone on Sunday. The ChiSox just can't seem to adjust to pitchers that serve up a good change of pace. The team doesn't have 200 homers this year by shortening up their swings and protecting the plate, that much is sure.

Current projection is 90 wins and October on the golf course. If Las Medias Blancas can take two from the hobbled Red Sox this week, they go back up to 91 wins. Why do I doubt this team again this fall? Decades of Learned Helplessness ingrained by this bunch, I suppose. *sigh*

The AL Central pennant race

The White Sox have an uphill battle to finish with enough wins to get the wild card berth. Ozzie thinks 95 wins will do it, I can only see the boys winning 91. Look at how the renmaining schedule shakes out, knowing that we have a five and fly guy in Javy, a suddenly iffy Contreras, an iffy Freddie and an iffy Buehrle as well:
.
.
Tampa: 2 of 3
at KC: 2 of 3 so far so good.
at Bos: 1 of 3
Cle: 2 of 4 it is so hard to take three of four anywhere.
at LAA: 1 of 3
at Oak: 1 of 3 this could be deemed a good west coast trip result.
Dt: 2 of 3 cinch it up
Sea: 2 of 4
at Cle 1 of 3
at MN 1 of 3 the death blow.

15 wins...Meanwhile the Twins pick up 18 wins with their schedule and the White Sox are playing golf...or drinking shots...on October 2nd.

Going out into the bush

Time to head out into the field for some hard-hitting reporting on the habitat of the American tourist: Orlando, Florida! Also included in these reports will be a side trip to the Bahamas on a boat.DW tells me we are taking a big boat. Big to me is a forty foot cabin cruiser. I do not have budget for a photographer so I must perform double duty as both insightful investigative journalist and artistic shutterbug.

One subject I am going to pay particular attention to is Piggery on the cruise ship! And this thread from the DisBoards will help me get started. Hmmm, incompetent wait staff that has problems with English, an overabundance of food given to morbidly obese cruisers and a diabetic getting sugared pop! This is front page stuff, folks!

Back from a secure, undisclosed location

Apple=polly=loggies to all me droogies. I have been *elsewhere* the past forty days and forty nights, eating stale bread and drinking dank water alive with little beasties. I have gained much insight of the navel-contemplation variety, but no enlightenment or nirvana has managed to penetrate my polacko brain during the journey.

My flippin' laptop crashed and burned in the computer chip equivalent of a whte-hot conflagration. There I was in Augusta, Georgia, about a mile away from the most famous cracker-ass golf course in the world. I was supposed to be performing high-level consulting-type services. I sat in a boring, windowless conference room with stale air and no internet access. I turned on my box and and and nothin', not one flippin' thing. Dell customer service was great. It only took them 15 minutes to diagnose the death of the motherboard. Bloody hell. To make matters worse, i discovered once I got home that the hard drive was kaput. Ka-PUT! "Probably a power surge," smirked the dip-shit Geek Squad kid. I sent the hard drive to Advanced Computer Services in Orlando, Florida. No dice. Forensic recovery failed me.

Nothin on that hard drive was worth a crap to me except 12,000 words conceived, written, re-written and smoothed into a kid's chapter book that I had worked on with editorial assistance from my daughters. Gone forever. Hopefully fresh enough in my mind to be re-created somehow. Now I must start over. Back-ups have also failed to penetrate my polacko brain.

This incident caused me to go out into the desert and discover my true self. I grew a great beard, except there is too much grey in it. The devil himself tried to tempt me to buy another Dell, but I cast him down a mountain. (Not really, jk in case the New Mexico State Police have found the body.) I walked and walked and walked. Luckily i was wearing the new neoprene Nike sandals DW bought for me.

So I am back! And my brackets were trashed by late Friday night! But I have a new iBook G4! The Lanky One is BACK! MWA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Opening Ceremonies Produced By Drunks

...or maybe pillheads. Or maybe both. That is the only possible explanation for the travesty that was the Winter Olympics kick-off party last night. It is the new millenium. These are the first Winter Olympics on European soil in the 21st Century. Europe is united like never before. Italy is on the world stage. Everyone is enthralled with the beauty of Torino.

So what do we get? People walking around with giant balloons on their heads like they are some bad stand-up comic act. People walking around with fire coming out of their heads like they are hella pissed about something or other. The ultimate kick in the head was the Parade of Nations or whatever they call it. Disco music. 70's disco music as background to all the countries entering the stadium. "First, Last and Everything" by Barry White. And was that the country of Iran walking in to the tune "Disco Inferno" by the Trammps? Burn the mother down!

Four Things

I got tagged by Random Walk so I will respond:

Four Jobs I’ve Had:
Concrete Laborer
Stock Jockey at the Jewels
Grad School Teacher
Bartender

Movies I Can (and Do) Watch Over and Over:
The Godfather
The Producers (original)
Citizen Kane
It's a Gift

Four Places I Have Lived:
Chicago, Illinois
Orange, California
Aliso Viejo, California
The Northern Perimeter of Illinois

TV Shows I Love:
The Sopranos
The Doodlebops
MXC
Scooby Doo

Four Places I’ve Vacationed:
Oah'u/Kaua'i/Moloka'i/Mau'i Hawai'i
Club Med Turks and Caicos
Orlando, Orlando, Orlando
Orange City, Iowa

Four of My Favorite Dishes:
Avocados and Tomatoes
Tomatoes and Mozzarella
Tekka Don
Rueben Sammich

Four Sites I Visit Daily:
Drudge
G-Mail
Official White Sox website
Weather.com

Four Places I’d Rather Be Now:
Hawai'i
Newport Beach
Lake Buena Vista, FL
London

Four People I Am Tagging:
I don't know four people.

Odd Types

It takes all kinds to make a world, and I run into them every day in my current role of layabout. There is a man about age sixty who haunts the gym about every morning. He wears horn rimmed glassed with yellow lenses. Although he is in the gym daily, his skin is sallow and his eyes are bloodshot. He is overweight. I was discussing the healing wonders of the styptic pencil with a fellow gym rat the other day, and how they are hard to find in the stores of late. They seem to have fallen out of favor somewhat. Mr. Yellow glasses asked "A what?"
"Styptic pencil" I replied.
"Styptic pencil" he repeated to himself, quietly looking down at the floor. I don't think he knew what it was. What male doesn't know that it is the sliced up face's best friend?

Next: Strange frowning bald man with hair on his back.

The Avo

About a month ago I planted a couple avocado seeds (Haas of course) in some moist soil. I kept their feet pretty wet and was rewarded with a day of sprouting. One is 14 inches tall after only a week and the other sprouted and then gave up. Back in the day I did this and ended up with two trees that I labored over for four years or so until they were eight feet tall. They were very spindly, though. I think because I did not pinch them back in their youth, they grew wild and unfetterd into long-legged beasties rather than real trees. Therefore I will raise this one a bit differently.
The wonder of life. Every Haas avocado on the display at the Jewels is a tree waiting to grow.

Swim Club

I write this at 5:54 pm on Sunday evening. At 6:30 I need to leave for the pool. I don't want to go.

I signed up for a Sunday evening swim club at my gym. An hour and fifteen minutes of laps and drills. About 1,300 metres. The first night I swallowed a gallon of pool water and threw up when I got home. The next week my goggies kept leaking. I did not throw up, but I was gassed. Tonight, who knows? I have new goggies, Aquasphere Seals. I have been stretching out my ankles to improve my kick which right now is weak, weak, weak. I swim on Tuesdays and Thursdays for half an hour to build endurance in between Sunday evenings.

Why am I doing this? To improve my fitness, maybe do a sprint triathlon in August. Secondly, it is an exercise in discipline, something I need during these days when I am not working full time. So here I go.

Mall Walking

I had to kill a little time this morning in Schaumburg so I went over to Woodfield Mall. It was about 9:40 a.m. and most of the stores were still closed, yet there were people walking around everywhere. They were all oldsters with white sneakers on. Dozens upon dozens of them. One lady had headphones on and was humming out loud, oblivious to the world. They were all getting in their daily exercise. I say good for them! The population is aging and if people keep in shape like this all you 20-somethings out there are going to have to support all us old farts who will make up over half the population by 2040 or so.

Diminished White Sox Memories

I have been thinking about this on and off the past couple days. I watched the playoffs and WS again on Comcast this past holiday season. The Sox have won it all and I find myself not caring that much about the stars and accomplishments of past teams. They pale in comparison by such a degree that I am kind of surprised by it.

White Sox fans have survived on scraps for so many decades. Now that we have had the big feast, there is no way those scraps will suffice any longer. Nellie Fox was my first favorite player. My brother gave me a Fox bobblehead for Christmas. My reaction was lukewarm, and I had to act like it was a big deal. I would much rather have had an AJ Pierzyinski or a Mark Buehrle.

Other favorite players like Jungle Jim Rivera, Billy Pierce, Floyd Robinson, Gary Peters, Tommy John, Mike Hershberger, Bill Melton, Ron Kittle, Rich Dotson, Tom Paciorek, yes, even Frank Thomas, cannot hold a candle to current accomplishments.

Memories of the old ballpark, gone these last fifteen years, are less important.

Time marches on, and we do not have to cling to the past any longer. That is a good thing. I guess.

(thanks to DGK, Jr. for reminding me to post this.)

Al Franken = Dick

Recently on the Today Show, Matt Lauer posed this question to Al Franken : "Earlier in the program we asked James Carville how important the Valerie Plame story was to the average American on a scale of 1 to 10. He said 2. We asked Laura Ingraham and she said -1. What do you think?"

Al: "I think Laura Ingraham is an idiot."

Kudos to Al for a remark that is both great comedy and searing political commentary.

Wanda Sykes Sucks and Wins Award!

My friends and family were appalled on New Year's Eve when we watched the ball drop in New York. We had NBC 5 on the telly here on the Northern Border of the Greater Chicagoland Area. Wanda Sykes joined in the commentary of the scene in Times Square.

As the ball dropped she made comments about "dropping a Negro down the pole" and how a "Negro would be polishing the ball." These gratuitous stupid comments apparently pass for comedy these days. They were so out of place and inappropriate that everyone in the family room looked at each other and said "What?"

Congratulations to Wanda for being the Inaugural Recipient of the "Monthly Wrong Side of the Saw Kerf Award" for ignorant public behavior. Too bad she couldn't wait until February when we celebrate Negro history.