1) I really like watching Johan Santana, even when he isn’t completely on his game, like last night. The patented Fox Extreme Nosehair Closeups showed me a man who is terminally worried, kind of like John Tudor used to look. Midway through the game I decided what the look on Santana’s face is: it’s the look of a man who can see the future, but is powerless to change it! Like, “Oh, no, no, no. I’m going to throw a hanger and he’s going to belt it out of the park. Why must that be my destiny?” Tragic. But if that’s his look when he’s pitching like Bob Gibson, imagine how tortured he’d look if he ever looked into the future and saw himself giving up a run!
2) Jim sent a packet of baseball articles and such last week, and two elements of it found their way to our mantelpiece last night. For October, we try to replace the usual items on our mantel with baseball-related items, one for every team in the playoffs. The only thing I couldn’t find last night was a picture of William T. Sherman to represent the impending downfall of the Braves. From Jim I got a big photo of Don Zimmer, which might, if we’re lucky, curse the Yankees for letting him go, and as a general backdrop, the chart Jim used to figure out the logistics of our trip. So thanks, Jim!
Jim: You actually have my father to thank for the Don Zimmer picture. He gave it to me when I was visiting him in May. I think he had used it to test his color printer, or something like that.
Jason: Is it framed?
stacey: it’s framed with our hatred of the yankees (which is crocheted with care out of my love for the cardinals, johnny damon, eric gagne, baseball playoffs, and beer).