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Josh Q. Public: You made me cry when you said good-bye. Ain’t that a shame, my tears fall like rain. Ain’t that a shame, you’re the one to blame. -Fats Domino
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! I wasn’t gonna write this week-end. I was just gonna sit tight this week-end. But then, then they turned out the light this week-end. Turned the light out on Johnny Pesky. Like my main Popeye always says: “That’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more!” I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore. It is a travesty. It’s a travesty of a mockery of a sham of a mockery of a travesty of two mockeries of a sham. Red Sox manager Tito Francona said the team was told by the 
commissioner’s officer it will enforce the rule that limits uniformed personnel in the dugout to players, managers, and six coaches. Tito, get me a tissue. Jermaine, stop teasing. This is truly a sad day in baseball. Pesky is a Boston Red Sox institution. Just like the USS Constitution. This is a writ of execution. There must be another solution. The 87-year-old Pesky has been with the ball club for 57 years as a player, coach and manager. He lives baseball. He breathes baseball. He bleeds baseball. Bleeds Red Sox baseball. 
No soup for you Johnny! Go fuck yourself. Take your Pesky pole and shove it straight up your ass. That takes some brass. That shows absolutely no class. Tougher for me to figure out than the law of conservation of mass. How do you do that to guy who gave his life to this game? Did it without shame. Gave the foul pole a name. This is what he gets? Sixty plus years in the bigs and this is it? Mr. Red Sox? Pesky has spent more time in a Red Sox uniform than anyone else, alive or dead. He hits fungoes in Spring Training. He is a mentor to young players. I 
am still brought to tears when I watch the replay of Johnny, sitting in the clubhouse, watching Keith Foulke stab a grounder from Edgar Renteria, and underhand it to Doug Mientkiewicz. He waited for that as long as anybody. I am still brought to tears when I watch the replay of Wake and Schill pouring a beer over his head and kissing him after the Sox finally won it. They daggone done it. I am still brought to tears when I hear Major League Baseball is forcing him out of the dugout. Bud Selig should be ashamed of himself.
This post brought to you by the Window Boys. JB Sash & Door Co.
Public Spectacle:
Peace out homies. Six Two and Even!
my car. Toot toot ya! Hell ya. Driving good ole number forty-three. Driving with such ferocity. Velocity. Monstrosity. Wayne Gretzky monstrosity. Joe DiMaggio monstrosity. Wilt Chamberlin monstrosity. Record breaking monstrosity. Records that will never be broken. Records that can only be spoken. On the track, this cat was smokin’. Smokin to 127 pole positions. Smokin’ to the most wins in one season: twenty-seven. Smokin to seven NASCAR Winston Cup Championships. Smokin’ to a record winning 200 races during his career. Smokin’ to the most 
consecutive wins: ten. Smokin to the most wins from the pole: sixty-one. Smokin to the most wins from the pole in one season: fifteen. And of course, smokin’ to winning the prestigious Daytona 500 an incredible total of seven times during his career. Yowza! This cat’s untouchable. So clutchable. That’s why we love him so muchable. Hands on the wheels, cruising down the interstate. Gas pedal sticks carries my car away, I was 
going as fast as a Rambler goes. I could feel the speed from my head to my toes. Now I know how Richard Petty feels. No I don’t. I never was in Stroker Ace. I never was one of eight drivers in NASCAR history to win a Career Grand Slam. I never was chosen as the best driver ever on ESPN Classic’s Who’s No. 1? I never had an NBA player wear my number, a la Brad Daugherty. I was never awarded the Medal of Freedom. I was never King of the race track. All hail the King. All hail King Richard Petty.
Make mincemeat out of ‘em. They’ll tear those mieces to pieces. 
Josh Boom Boom Becket: First off, I just love the way Boom Boom goes out there and pitches his heart out. Like a Hanson brother on crack. No turning back. Always on the attack. Last year he was the cat who could not get his off speed pitches over the plate to save his life. Or his wife. It cut like a butter knife. So he just came back with the cheese. See ya! Connectamundo! Bye-bye baseball. My, how times have changed! Now he has total command. Commander McBragg. Commander McHale. In his last outing, Boom Boom pitched seven innings. Allowed one unearned run. Gave up three paltry hits. Struck out seven. Ring’em up. Sit ’em down. This guy had just one walk in eighteen and 2/3 innings over five starts before Sunday. His final totals: twenty-nine Ks and four walks in twenty-five and 2/3 innings. Yowza! He’s hitting 95-96 on the Juggs. Good night Irene. Last year but a dream. This year, he’s strawberry ice cream. I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!
on saying it. Gy-ro-myte! D-Nice. My man. A bulldog. A burudoggu. Orel Hershiser style. Ichiban. Man of a thousand pitches. Got to know how to pony. Like Bony Maronie. Mash potata, do the alligator. Put your hand on your hips, yeah. Let your backbone slip. Just pitched five innings of no-hit baseball. No no Nanette. He’s got Jeff Ruland/Rick Mahorn stuff. You remember. McFilthy and McNasty. Johnny Most style. His fastball topped out over 100mph at the Athens Olympics. He’s not afraid to throw that cheese inside either. I’m looking at you A-Broad. The best slider in baseball today. A knee buckling, mind bending, world beating pitch sure to amaze and mystify. Put those pitches together with a Peteylike change and the demon gyroball, you get half man half incredible. We needed a guy with experience and stamina. Well, that’s what we got. His talent and work ethic are unmatched. From Sawamura Award to Cy Young Award, D-Mat will deliver. ”I’ve watched him on video,” said Phillies manager Charlie Manuel, “and with his stuff, he could win 25 games in our league.” You hear that sports fans? Huh, did you? He’s delightful, he’s delicious, he’s delectable, he’s delirious, he’s de limit, he’s deluxe, he’s de-lovely, he’s D-Nice although he hates to admit it, he’s taking out you suckers and you don’t know how he did it.