World Series Aftermath
Here's what I know... The Red Sox have won something and one block from my house the sky is orange and there are flames as high as the eye can see. Yet as I flip at 1:30am from 4 to 5 to 7 to 25 none of the helicopters are breezing that mile of sky from Fenway to the raging fire to let me know what is going down? Is it fuckhead fans setting brownstone's on fire as they walk home? Were drunken frat boys partying on the roof deck and deciding to set it ablaze? CBS, ABC, NBC, Fox, show me the fucking fire that makes my livingroom reflect daylight!
This town is insane. I am soooo not a fan of sports, but I am a fan of media hoopla and exploitation so you know I was all over Game 4 (well after "Lost" kicked some ass and I started book 3 of the Lemony Snickets series - this fag does not need to be watching THAT much baseball. Don't get me wrong, I like me some balls but this is ridonkulous!).
As I've learned from Patriot victories and last week's Game 7 against the Yankees, the appropriate response to a championship win is to HONK YOUR HORN for hours on end regardless of the hour. The second that last hit was caught and someone on first base made the last out, HHHHHHOOOORRRRRNNNNSSSSS. It's fun and exciting for the first hour (non-stop), then around 1am its getting old. As my block is engulfed in flames it's a little less joyous and at 2am when I finally shut off the television, it's just time to SHUT IT!
As I saw on the telly, Kenmore Square around Fenway was semi-under control after last week's riots and death of an Emerson student. I felt bad for the horses that are on patrol down there. I mean, 60,000 people an equestrian match not made. Poor horsies! And then they start throwing bottles at my friend Flicka, are ya kidding? Who throws anything at a cop, let alone a line of a couple hundred cops. Nothing better than helicopter footage of the police rushing fans and the pandemonium it creates before dissipation.
Oh, and I have a theory on New England Championships and my involvement over the last year. Now hear me out. When the Patriots won the Super Bowl this past year, I was laid up at home on the couch with a heating pad and some pain killers because I had just taken a header down a flight of stair, dislocating my tailbone. I was at home front and center for the chaos of their Victory Parade through the streets of Boston. Fine, nothing spectacular about that. BUT, I am now home because as you know, I am unemployed and the Red Sox have won and I will be privy to the celebration once again (from my home). Obviously I need to be broken in body and bank account for these New England teams to win anything. Don't ask again for another 86 years, I've given my share.
All in all, the city is still standing, that's the best we could hope for. I still have no idea what happened to that brownstone that was on fire. Nothing on the news this morning either, hello... other things do happen in the world unrelated to Red Sox Nation. Welcome to Boston.
This town is insane. I am soooo not a fan of sports, but I am a fan of media hoopla and exploitation so you know I was all over Game 4 (well after "Lost" kicked some ass and I started book 3 of the Lemony Snickets series - this fag does not need to be watching THAT much baseball. Don't get me wrong, I like me some balls but this is ridonkulous!).
As I've learned from Patriot victories and last week's Game 7 against the Yankees, the appropriate response to a championship win is to HONK YOUR HORN for hours on end regardless of the hour. The second that last hit was caught and someone on first base made the last out, HHHHHHOOOORRRRRNNNNSSSSS. It's fun and exciting for the first hour (non-stop), then around 1am its getting old. As my block is engulfed in flames it's a little less joyous and at 2am when I finally shut off the television, it's just time to SHUT IT!
As I saw on the telly, Kenmore Square around Fenway was semi-under control after last week's riots and death of an Emerson student. I felt bad for the horses that are on patrol down there. I mean, 60,000 people an equestrian match not made. Poor horsies! And then they start throwing bottles at my friend Flicka, are ya kidding? Who throws anything at a cop, let alone a line of a couple hundred cops. Nothing better than helicopter footage of the police rushing fans and the pandemonium it creates before dissipation.
Oh, and I have a theory on New England Championships and my involvement over the last year. Now hear me out. When the Patriots won the Super Bowl this past year, I was laid up at home on the couch with a heating pad and some pain killers because I had just taken a header down a flight of stair, dislocating my tailbone. I was at home front and center for the chaos of their Victory Parade through the streets of Boston. Fine, nothing spectacular about that. BUT, I am now home because as you know, I am unemployed and the Red Sox have won and I will be privy to the celebration once again (from my home). Obviously I need to be broken in body and bank account for these New England teams to win anything. Don't ask again for another 86 years, I've given my share.
All in all, the city is still standing, that's the best we could hope for. I still have no idea what happened to that brownstone that was on fire. Nothing on the news this morning either, hello... other things do happen in the world unrelated to Red Sox Nation. Welcome to Boston.
posted by duckyxdale at
10/28/2004 09:28:00 AM
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