To: Denton

From: Red

Okay, I’m off. Here are two posts for Tuesday. Pretty self-explanatory. Oh, and remember the story: As far as my parole officer is concerned, I’m on a “fishing trip” with some “college buddies” ’til next Monday.


So, New York, we beat you again. Five in a row, suckas, and you can tell Rey Sanchez we’ll take that haircut now. Are you starting to sense a trend here? First, you’re on the business end of the single most devastating choke in franchise history. Now you come back after a few months, looking for a little Grapefuit Redemption, and we say “NO.” We taunt you with a little piece of chocolate cake on a plate, and just as you start to move in closer, admiring its silky frosting and dying to press your teeth into it, we pull it away. Because, just like the AL title, it is ours, and we’re all about having things that you cannot. So bring on your hired guns, your ugly-ass mercenaries, your aged, broken, one-time superstars. Our new title defending technique is unstoppable, and we shall thwart your advances at every turn. Consider this just the first stop on the long, slow, torturous trail of misery that will be your 2005 season. Oh, and Giambi’s a tool.


Aw, blow it out your ass. It’s a f–king spring training game. We’ll see you at the Stadium in a couple weeks when the games start to count. And we’ll be wearing our “big pants.”