We intended to take it easy on the baseball this weekend, and we were planning a whole post about the team's imaginary expedition to see The Simpsons Movie, with Mirabelli smuggling epic quantities of food into the theater for everybody (Tek: "Dougie, I'm sorry but I just don't want chicken parm that's been in your pants, okay?") and Papelbon throwing Skittles at Mr. Burns.
And then Clay Buchholz had to come and distract us from the funny with actual baseball.
Thanks, Clay.
No, seriously, thanks. From the heart. We'll post more about the game tomorrow when the giddiness subsides. For now, Clay, just let us know--do you want a drink, or a baby, or anything?
*Until after the final out is official and the pitcher's celebrating with a nice mug of hot cocoa and a story--no, two stories--before bedtime.
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1 comment:
I hope you're serious about the story, actually. I wanna read it.
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