Ooo wee ooo, I look just like Buddy Holly.  Oh oh, and you’re Mary Tyler Moore.  I don’t care what they say about us anyway.  I don’t care about that.  I don’t care about that.  -Weezer

Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go!  Just a quick one.  A very quick one.  Yup.  Like my main man Derrick Coleman always says:  Woopty damn doo!  Big deal.  So what?  So the Yankees got lucky.  So they were feeling a little plucky.  Everything’s not so ducky. They’re still in last aren’t they?  Hey daddy-o, I don’t wanna go, down to the basement.  There’s somethin’ down there.  Hey, Romeo, I don’t wanna go, down to the basement.  The Sox are still in first aren’t they?  I am number one.  No matter if you like it.  Ready take this, sit down and write it.  I am number one.  Hey hey hey hey hey hey.  The Yankees are still 1-8 aren’t they?  Not so great are they?  Too little too late aren’t they?  The Red Sox still have the best rotation in the American League don’t they?  Simply the best.  Better than all the rest.  The Red Sox still have the best closer in baseball don’t they?  How do you spell relief?  P-a-p-e-l-b-o-n.  The Red Sox have still shown they have the desire.  Shown they have the fire.  Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire.  Coming back game after game.  Hummin’.  Comin’ at cha.  And you know I had to gat ya.       Read More »

That’s great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes, an aeroplane.  Lenny Bruce is not afraid.  It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.  -REM

Public Service Announcement.  OK, here we go!  Here we go Red Sox, here we go!  The sky is falling!  The sky is falling!  Like my main man Howard Cosell always says, the Bronx is burning!  Yup, the bronx is burning.  The sky is falling.  That’s right Chicken Little, what your name is?  Where you from?  Turn around, who you came with?  Pop something, move something.  Shake ya tail feather.  Shake ya tail feather, the end is near.  And now, the end is near.  And so I face the final curtain.  I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain.       Read More »

Here we go again.  She’ll break my heart again.  I’ll play the part again.  One more time.  -Ray Charles

Public Service Anoouncement: OK, here we go!  Did you like your little respite?  Huh, Binky?  Didja?  Didja like your little NBA story?  Didja like your little cricket article?  Didja like your little Trevor Linden piece?  Huh, Binky?  Didja?  Can we get back to the real stuff now?  Huh?  Can we?  The electric eel stuff now?  The Cadillac automobile stuff now?  The white knuckles on the wheel stuff now?  I’m sick of this West Coast bias.  Can we please get some Red Sox/Yankees talk about now.  Right about now, the funk soul brother.  Check it out now, the funk soul brother.  Can we?  Thank you.  Like the original funk soul brother, Elvis Aron Presley, always says:  “Thank you.  Thank you very much.”  Thank you New York Yankees pitching staff.  Thank you for putting your team in dead last place.  Getting worse at a dead fast pace.  Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.  How sweet does this sound?  Whooosh.  Sounds sweep.  Don’t it?  Huh?  Don’t it?  Ha ha ha!  Swept by the Sox.  Swept by the Rays.  About to get swept again.  Haven’t won since I don’t know when. You go back Jack, do it again.  Wheel turnin’ round and round.  You go back Jack, do it again.  Read More »

Oh we can beat them for ever and ever.  Then we can be heroes.  Just for one day.  We can be heroes.  Just for one day.  -David Bowie

Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go!  Hockey Krishna, Hockey Krishna.  Krishna Krishna, Hockey Hockey,  Hockey Rama, Hockey Rama.  Rama Rama, Hockey Hockey.  He was born in Medicine Hat by the borderline.  He started playing hockey by the time he was nine.  Medicine Hat Tigers.  Consecutive Memorial Cup titles as a junior hockey player in the WHL.  Never slowing down ever since.  Geronimo, look out belowing ever since. Hasn’t stopped mowing ‘em down ever since.  Read More »

I don’t mean to brag. I don’t mean to boast. But I’m intercontinental when I eat French toast. -Beastie Boys

Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go!  We’re in the middle of the Cricket World Cup right now.  We’re in the Finals right now.  The third most watched sporting event in the world right now.  Third, behind the Soccer World Cup and the Olympics.  Cricket?  Ya, that’s the ticket.  Quite a sticky wicket.  Would you watch it in a box?  Would you watch it with a fox?  Not in a box.  Not with a fox.  I do not like it Josh Q. Public.  C’mon.  Try it, you’ll like it.  You’ll like World Cup Cricket.  You’ll definitely like Muttiah Muralitharan.  Huh?  Who?  Muttiah Muralitharan. That’s who. That’s who doing the dew. But you can call him Murali. You can call me Ray or you can call me Jay, but you doesn’t hafta call me Muttiah Muralitharan.  Who is this Murali you speak of?  Murali is the bowler for Sri Lanka.  Sri Lanka is in the Finals.  The bowler is like a pitcher.  Murali is the best bowler in the world.  Better than Earl Anthony.  Better than Joe Berardi.  Better than Big Ern McCracken.  Better than Dick Weber.  Ooops.  Wrong bowlers.  Take the skinheads bowling, take them bowling.  Murali is the best bowler in the world.  Read More »

Josh Q. Public:  Here I come to save the day.  That means that Mighty Mouse is on his way.  Yes sir, when there is a wrong to right, Mighty Mouse will join the fight.  On the sea or on the land, he gets the situation well in hand.  -Mighty Mouse Theme

Public Service Announcement:  OK, here we go!  Phew.  Got a few days respite here.  Time to change gears lickety split like here.  Back to normalcy bit by bit like here.  No more monkey business.   Brass Monkey business.  That funky Monkey business.  Time for growed folks business.  NBA basketball business.  NBA playoff basketball business.  Win or go home!  I love this game.  I love Chris Webber.  I love Allen Iverson.  I love it when those wily old veterans climb aboard.  Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour.  Roll up we’ve got everything you need.  Roll up for the mystery tour.  Roll up, satisfaction guaranteed.  Roll up for the mystery tour. The magical mystery tour is hoping to take you away.  Hoping to take you away.  Calgon, take me away.  The Pistons are hoping C-Web can take them away.  The Nuggets are hoping the Answer can take them away.  Take them away to the Promised Land.  Make them leaders of the band.  Give them a great big helping hand.  Hamburger helper helps her hamburger help her make a great meal.  These guys got me thinking.  Thinking, who else came aboard to make that push?  Oooh, baby, baby.  Baby, baby.  Oooh, baby, baby.  Baby, baby.  Now push it.  Push it real good.  Who pushed it good?  Who pushed it real good?

Oscar Robertson:  The Big-O.  Came into the league in a blaze of glory.  You know the story.  Cincinnati Royals.  Rookie season.  Thirty points per game.  Ten boards.  Nearly ten assists.  His rookie year!  Goodness gracious great balls of fire.  Rookie of the Year.  All NBA first team.   All-Star Game MVP.  The Big-O continued to amaze astound.  Continued the be the best around.  Still the best pound for pound.  Averaging triple doubles.  Triple troubles.  Get the papers, get the papers, get the papers.  Breaking the Houdini of the Hardwoods single season assist record.  Winning another MVP.  Winning another All-Star MVP.  Leading his Royals to the NBA finals.  But, things began to sour in Cincy.  Things began to look dour in Cincy.  The Royals began to lose their power in Cincy.  Prior to the 1970-71 season, the Big-O gets traded to the Milwaukee Bucks for Flynn Robinson and Charlie Paulk.  Huh?  Traded to the Bucks and young Lew Alcinder.  The Big-O and young Lew Alcinder charged to a league best 66-16 record.  The Big-O and young Lew Alcinder charged to a twenty game winning streak.  The Big-O and young Lew Alcinder charged  to a twelve and two record in the playoffs.   The Big-O and young Lew Alcinder charged  to an NBA title.  Routed the Earl the Pearl Monroe and the Baltimore Bullets four zip.  Ain’t he a pip?  All that and onion dip. 

Bob McAdoo:  Another Rookie of the Year.  Buffalo Braves.  Another cat folks learned to fear.  Another cat who knew what to do with the old sphere.  Three consecutive scoring titles.  His sophomore season still remains the last time an NBA player has averaged both thirty points and fifteen boards per game.  Ain’t that a shame?  My tears fell like rain.  Say my name!    MVP award.  Superstardom.  Big Carsdom.  In chargedom.  Then came the injuries.  Then came the Knicks.  Then came the Celtics.  Then came the Pistons.  Then came the Nets.  Stagnation.  Defamation.  Degradation.  Desparation.  But what’s this?  1982.  Salvation.  The Los Angeles Lakers.  The shake and bakers.  The championship makers.  Showtime baby.  Showtime.  Sixth man.  Two NBA tiles.  Hall of Fame.  He’s got game.  Say my name!

Bill Walton:  Portland Trailblazers.  Came to Portland after  winning the Naismith College Player of the Year Award three years in a row.  Yowza!  Yowza!  Yowza!  Hotter than Adrienne Barbeau.  Quid pro quo Clarise, quid pro quo.  Injury after injury.  Playing very gingerly.  Tina Louise style.  Finally gets healthy in seventy-seven.  All-Star team in seventy-seven.  Throw it down big man.  Throw it down.  NBA’s First All Defensive Team.  4-0 sweep of the Los Angeles Lakers and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar in the playoffs.  Smash George McGinnis, Dr. J, World B. Free and the Sixers in the Finals.  Named MVP of the Finals.  On top of the world looking down on creation.  King of Blazer Nation.  Won the MVP the following year.  Made it to the playoffs the following year.  Got hurt again the following year.  Never played for Portland again.  Played sporadically for the Clippers.  The sinking shippers.  Honey drippers.  Sucker sippers.  Big dippers.  Sucker dipper.  Drippin suckers like its goin out-a-style.  Creatin flavors for da Flavor Flav pile.  Lampin booyee madina style.  Then the Celtics came a caliing.  Needed a big man to do some balling.  Time for some more yes y’alling.  The Big Three becomes the Big Four.  Bird, McHale, Parrish and Walton.  Lions and tigers and bears oh my!  Oh my indeed.  We are the champions my friend.  Bill is Sixth Man of the Year my friend.  The only man to ever win both the Sixth Man Award and MVP my friend.  Truly an amazing physical specimen.

Mark Aguire:  Another College Player of the Year.  DePaul Blue Demon College Player of the Year.  First overall pick by the Dallas Mavericks in the 1981 NBA Draft.  Luck is the lady that he loves the best.  Maverick is a legend of the west.  He’s a legend all right.  Twenty points per game over the course of his thirteen-year NBA career.  1984.  All he did was score.  Scored more and more.  Averaged 29.5 points per game.  Good enough for second in the league.  He finished the season with 2,330 total points.  Disco Dirk or no Disco Dirk, both Mavericks single-season scoring records still stand.   All that scoring and never won a damned thing.  Str8 Ballin’.  Ain’t a damned thing changed.  Shakin’ the dice, now roll ‘em.  If you can’t stand pain, better hold ‘em.  The Pistons could stand the pain.  They rolled ‘em.  Rolled ‘em and traded another scoring machine.  A mean scoring machine.  An obscene scoring machine.  Traded Adrian Dantley to land Aguirre.  Bad boys bad boys.  Watcha gonna do?  Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?  The Bad Boys came for you with Aguirre.  Came for you and won two rings with Aguirre.  Back to back rings with Aguirre.  It don’t mean a thing if you don’t get them rings. 

Dennis Rodman:  The Worm.  Defense and rebounding.  That’s all you need to know.  Led the National Basketball Association in rebounding a record seven consecutive years.  Earned NBA All-Defensive First Team honors seven times.  Remember Lucky Seven Samson, that’s my natural born name.  If you should ask me again, I’d have to tell you the same.  You’ll wake up tomorrow, you’ll be glad that I came.  ‘Cause you’ll be singin one of the songs that I sang.  Singing his way to two rings with the Pistons.  Singing his way to  two NBA Defensive Player of the Year awards with the Pistons.  Rodman was talented but his act wore thin.  Played for the Spurs.  Won the rebounding title with Spurs.  Went to the Western Conference finals with the Spurs.  But his act wore thin again with the Spurs.  Horace Grant had just left the Bulls.  Michael Jordan had just come back.  With Rodman and MJ, the bulls improved twenty-five games from the previous year.  Set an NBA record 72-10 regular season finish.  Strong to the finish ’cause they ate their spinach.  Back-to-back-to-back.  Three is a magic number.  Yes it is, it’s a magic number.  Somewhere in the ancient, mystic trinity, you get three as a magic number. 

Honorable Mentions:  Mario Elie, Spurs.  Dennis Johnson, Celtics.  Tiny Archibald, Celtics.  Antoine Walker, Miami Heat.  Brent Barry, Spurs.  Ron Harper, Lakers.  Cliff Levingston, Bulls.  Moses Malone, Sixers, Rockets. 

Public Acknowledgements:  Beastie Boys, Beatles, Wikipedia, Basketball Reference, Betty Crocker, Salt-n-Pepa, Good Fellas, Fats Domino, Cypress Hill, Silence of the Lambs, Carpenters, Pubic Enemy, Wizard of Oz, Gilligan’s island, Jim Rockford, 2Pac, Bob Marley, Duke Ellington and Schoolhouse Rock.

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Back to back.  Now how you gonna hold me?  Back to back.  How you gonna show me?  Back to back.  Baby that’s a fact.  -The Replacements

Public Service Announcement:  OK, here we go!  Ha ha ha!  Hooo Hoo Hoo!  Hee Hee Hee!  This is great!  Sha na na na.  Na na na na.  Hey hey hey.  Goodbye.  Goodbye Yankees.  Goodbye A-Broad.  Goodbye DE-rek JE-ter.  Clap clap clap clap clap.  Goodbye Mariano.  Goodbye hip hip Jorge.  Don’t let the door hit hit your ass on the way out.  What a game!  What a game.  Back-to-back-to-back-to-back.  Fantastic four.  Four times the action.  Four times the adventure.  Four times the fantastic.  It’s clobbering time.          Read More »

Josh Q. Public:  One can wish upon a star. Two can make a wish come true. One can stand alone in the dark. Two can make the light shine through. It takes two baby. You know it takes two. -Tina Turner

Public Service Announcement:  OK, here we go!  I know, I know.  It’s early yet.  No need to get squirrelly yet.  Don’t call me Shirley yet.  But the early bird gets the worm, I say.  Keep making them pay, I say.  Make ‘em pay every day, I say.  Keep stepping on their necks, I say.  Pencil neck geek, grit eatin’ freak, scum suckin’, pea head with a lousy physique.  He’s a one man, no gut, loosing streak.  Nothin’ but a pencil neck geek.  A-God didn’t walk on water yesterday.  Didn’t turn any water into wine yesterday.  Didn’t cure any lepers yesterday.  Down to earth yesterday.  Big Papi did.  Papi don’t preach, they’re in trouble deep.  Papi don’t preach, they’ve been losing sleep.  The Yankees lost some sleep yesterday.  Papi preached yesterday.  He was a peach yesterday.  Gave a four RBI speech yesterday.  Bottom of the first.  Sox down two.  Two men on.  My two favorite words in the English language.  Papi’s up!  Can I get an Amen?  Kapow!  Double to deep right.  Feel his might.  Setting things right.  Setting things right with a two run double.  Double trouble.  Double, double, toil and trouble.  Fire burn and cauldron bubble.  Double, double, toil and trouble.  Something wicked this way comes.  It came this way again too.  Second verse, same as the first.  Bottom of the fourth.  Papi’s up again.  Can I get an Amen again?  Can I get an Amen?  Can I get a witness?  Tell me, are you with me?  Holla’ if you hear this.  Can I get an Amen?  Amen!  Going back.  El Comedulce at the track.  At the wall.  Seeee ya!  See ya later.  See ya later alligator.  See ya later Yankees.  The Red Sox are rolling.  Roll Sox roll!  Come on throw your hands up.  Shout a hallaluyah.  Everybody sing.  Let the spirit move ya.  Roll Sox roll!  Can I get an Amen!

Public Acknowledgements:  Airplane, Classy Freddie Blassie, Madonna, William Shakespeare, Herman’s Hermits, Shannon Brown and Michael Kay.

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Sox Two and Even!

Josh Q. Public:   I can do anything, right or wrong.  I can talk anyhow, and get along.  Don’t care anyway, I never lose.  Anyway, anyhow, anywhere I choose.  Anyway, anyhow, anywhere I choose.  -The Who

Public Service Announcement:  OK, here we go!  I love it baby.  I just love it.  Joy to the world.  All the boys and girls now.  Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea.  Joy to you and me.  Joy to the Boston Red Sox.  Oh boy!  That was a fun one.  The Yankees got done did stunned one.  A take the money and run one.  Billy Joe shot a man while robbing his castle.  Bobbie Sue took the money and run.  Go on take the money and run.  You say A-Broad’s on fire.  You say he’s found that desire.  You say he’s out of the mire.  Two bombs last night.  Twelve bombs in April.  Twelve bombs, tying Mike Schmidt for the most bombs in a team’s first fifteen games.  476 career bombs.  Moving him past Stan Musial and Willie Stargell into 25th-place in major-league history for bombs.  Sexbomb sexbomb, you’re my sexbomb sexbomb.  You can give it to me when I need to come along.  Sexbomb sexbomb you’re my sexbomb, and baby you can turn me on.  I say tomato.  Let’s call the whole thing off.  I say he’s the same old A-Broad.  Top of the ninth.  A-Broad representing the go ahead run at the plate.  The game on the line.  A-Broad’s time to shine.  Nope, not this time.  This time, he did a whole lot of nothing.  That’s what.  That’s what’s what.  You know who did a lot of something.  A lot of something something.  Coconut Crisp that’s who.  I go cuckoo for Coco Crisp.  Coco Crisp with a triple.  Triple trouble.  Mesmerizing, tantalizing, captivating, he’s devastating.   Triple troubling in the tying runs in the eighth.  Scoring the game-winner on Alex Cora’s blooper in the eighth.  Taking it to Mariano and the Yankees in the eighth.  You hear that Ted Sarandis?  The eighth.  Somehow, off of Big Mo, the win is that much sweeter.  He’s as sweet as Ghandi.  He’s my sugar dandy.  My boy lollipop.  Tossing lollipops  to Jason Varitek.  Tossing lollipops to Coco Crisp.  Tossing lollipops to Alex Cora.  Tossing lollipops en route to another blown save.  His second blown save in his only two tries.  Marco.  Polo.  Ha ha!  Tis the season baby.  Boom Boom Becket vs.  Jeff Karstens.  D-Nice vs. Chasing Amy Wright.  I said it before, I’ll say it again.  Get out the brooms bitches.  The Sox got themselves some sweeping to do.  Roll Sox roll!

Public Acknowledgements:  The Who, Three Dog Night, Steve Miller Band, Seymor Seywoff, Tom Jones, Ira Gershwin, Sonny, Beastie Boys and Bad Manners.

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Sox Two and Even!

Josh Q. Public:  Let’s begin again, begin the begin.  Let’s begin again like Martin Luther zen.  The mythology begins the begin.  -REM

Public Service Announcement:  OK, here we go!  Woooo doggie!  Red Sox/Yankees.  If this doesn’t get your panties in a bunch, better call Dr. Kavorkian.  ‘Cause there’s no hope for you.  May as well get the rope for you.  Maybe try some dope for you.  The greatest rivalry of them all.  Next to all the rest it stands tall.  Making those others look real small.  Bigger than Redskins/Cowboys.  Bigger than Ohio State/Michigan.  Bigger than Maple Leafs/Canadiens.  Bigger than Giants/Dodgers.  Bigger than all of ‘em.  I can’t wait.  Like Simba always says:  “Let every creature go for broke and sing.  Let’s hear it in the herd and on the wing.  It’s gonna be the Red Sox’ finest fling.  Oh, I just can’t wait to be king!”  That’s right.  King of the jungle.  King of the AL Beast.  Where men are men and the games matter.  And the Yankees?  Just like Terry Malloy, this just ain’t your night.  Ain’t your series.  Ain’t your year.  Ain’t your decade.  The Sox get a title shot outdoors at the ballpark and what do the Yankees get?  A one-way ticket to Palooka-ville.  Ha ha ha!  Big Thrill Schill vs. Little Andy Petite.  You remember Schill Yankees fans?  Don’t you?  Sure you do.  Down 0-3.  Bloody sock and all.  Yankees took a fall.  Four of ‘em.  In a row.  Geronimo!  Look out below!  Little Andy Petite, on the downside of his career.  Should be home drinking beer.  Has no business here.  Here where the stakes are high.  Here where the games matter.  Here where it’s life or death.  Here with love and hate tattooed across the knuckles of your hands.  The hands that slap your kids around cause they don’t understand how, death or glory becomes just another story.  Death to the Yankees.  Glory for the Red Sox.  Glory for Big Papi.  The cat you just can’t stoppie.  Glory for Manny.  Manny being Manny once again.  Hit a bomb yesterday once again.  A force to reckoned with once again.  Glory for JD Drew.  Nancy who?  Doing the dew.  Don’t give me your A-Broad nonsense.  You know what he did against the Sox last year?  Instilled no fear.  Made Red Sox Nation shed not a tear.  No homeruns.  Zero.  Zilch.  Nada.  You must try harder.  Not once did he go yarder.  Hit .216 with two ribbies.  As scary as a baby in the cribbie.  Fighting for women’s libbie.  All his hits, little squibbies.  DE-rek JE-ter.  Six errors.  The third best shortstop in all of New York.  What a dork.  Manwhosewhatsy on first.  It is to to laugh.  And like the man says, you’re only as good as your next starting pitcher.  The Big Three.  Schilling, Boom Boom Beckett and D-Nice.  Sounds so nice, I think I’ll say it twice.  Schilling, Boom Boom Beckett and D-Nice.  Got the Yankees runnin’ for their life, by the knife.  Yikes.  Can’t do nothing for ya man.  Those are our next starting pitchers.  Petite, Jeff Karstens and Chasing Amy Wright.  The tiny three.  The midget three.  The miniscule three.  Those who the Yankees be.  You can Giambi Juice me.  You can El Comedulce me.  You can Johnny Damonic me.  You can hip hip your gay me.  I’m not biting.  So get out the brooms bitches, the Sox got some sweeping to do! 

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Sox Two and Even!