04 August 2004

Just Call this Computer "Lazarus"...

And Jesus was all "Raise up computer, and fucking live... fucking WORK, man..."

Back from the dead. Chillin' with the ladies down at Club Med.

No, not Mike D.

My fuckin' computer.

So if you were wonderin'- where's the new Bullshit Memorial shit?- it was sacrificed in favor of my getting the computer back on it's legs. And it wasn't easy. I won't tell you what happened- don't wanna dump on you- but I've been given a computer Purple Heart. Or something.

In other good news, I've joined the chosen few- NYCers with iPods on city streets. It's like going to Yale- there are secret handshakes, codes, free sodas at meetings. It's pretty sweet. So's the iPod. An absolute thing of beauty

This one time, Andy Pettitte and me, we were playing leapforg, right...

Did you hear about THIS story? When I first read the headline, I assumed that some little league ump at Roger Clemens' 10 year old son's baseball game decided to get some publicity by throwing Roger Clemens out of a game. Why not, right? Initial reports, though, suggested otherwise- Clemens supposedly rushed the field, yelling at a Little League ump over a blown call at second, eventually spitting sun flower seeds at the guy and finally being told he had to leave.

He is now, apparently, requesting apologies to his family, et al, at the way a "nothing story" has been portrayed.

"It's very scary that it could come to this," Clemens said, trying hard to restrain himself. "A lot of people owe my family an apology."

"I guess I'm a champion seed-spitter," Clemens said. "I was probably a good 20 yards from the field. I've been able to see ... comments like I was nose-to-nose and toe-to-toe and arguing. I was sitting on a bucket talking to fans and signing in between."

"When a guy just blatantly lies about a situation that is so hurtful," Clemens said. "I guess I am so disappointed in the media because I was only a phone call away. Anyone could have followed up on the story with me or my agents. It was reckless."

Believe what you will, right? Who the fuck cares...

Bob Murphy 1924-2004

Bob Murphy died Tuesday in Florida of complications from lung cancer. Murphy got his start with Curt Gowdy and the Red Sox, but made his name as an original Met broadcaster, calling all the Mets World Championships and putting in 42 years of legendary broadcast service.

When I was very young and the only access I had to baseball was WFAN over the radio as I fall asleep, Bob Murphy was the sweetest, most honest and giving voice I'd ever heard. It was almost like hearing your mother speak- he was a constant, brilliantly concise unconditional giver of fond memories. I remember listening in 1988 as the Mets fell to the Dodgers in the NLCS, I remember listening all through the 100-loss season in 1992- Jeff Kent, Joe Orsulack, Howard Johnson, Frank Tanana, Pete Schourek, Todd Hundley, Vince Coleman. I heard the rise of the Met "Big Three Pitching Prospects"- Paul Wilson, Jason Isringhausen, and Bill Pulsipher- and I heard them all fall flat with a resounding thud.

I listened to him many times, including his final broadcast, one in which he gave literally no mention to his moving on. A small slice of New York history has past on, and far less significantly, a small slice of my own history as well. RIP, Bob.

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