Back in the saddle

Sitting in my darkened apartment, watching SportsCenter's highlight reel of the Buerhle perfect game for the 290th time and glancing out the window into a gloomy, rainy scene straight out of my ancestral home back in the Highlands, it came to me.

I'm ... not a writer anymore.

Ye gads, you blurt out as a mammoth collective gasp works its ways through the Internets.

Well, maybe that statement was a bit strong. But I haven't written anything of substance for weeks. Torn news copy to shreds, then painstakingly rebuilt it 'Six Million Dollar Man' style? Sure. Pumped out jaw-dropping, eye-catching, ass-kicking headlines like a champion? You're goddamn right. Generally held down the news desk and dominated in my new role? Like it's my job.

My days of distilling crisp news stories at an alarmingly efficient rate, however, are - for the moment - over. I have surrendered my hard-earned nickname - 'Xerox,' the Copy Machine - and rambled on.

(In the interest of full disclosure, no one has ever called me 'Xerox.' I am known as 'Ace' in some circles, though, which is a reasonable consolation prize.)

So what does this all have to do with anything? As the rain fell, the light of day began to break and Dwayne Wise robbed Gabe Kapler for the 1,938th time, I realized just how much I miss writing.

This epiphany still fresh, I turned where I always do in times of tribulation or extreme boredom - the World Wide Web. The blog is back, as least for one predawn romp through the random subjects I have something (semi)worthwhile to say something about.

-Speaking of Buehrle's perfect game, I woke up Thursday just in time to click on ESPN and watch the crafty lefty get the last three outs. Pretty cool moment. Definitely the last way I thought I'd spend my waking moments. Wise's catch was pretty cool - at first I swore he'd trapped it off the wall - but my favorite moment? The White Sox TV guys screaming "YES! YEESSS!" in unison after the final out. One of the best celebratory, pandemonium-induced tandem screams I've ever heard.

In the all-time pantheon of screams, though, the White Sox' announcers have a long way to go to top the Gold Standard:



-Speaking of Buerhle, I couldn't help today but recall the strong rumors from last summer that, for a time, indicated the southpaw might be on his way to Boston. That, of course, never happened, and with Josh 'Fueled by Rage' Beckett hurt for the playoffs, the local nine saw their dream of repeat titles die in a craptastic ALCS Game 7 against the hated Tampa Bay (Devil) Rays.



Embarrassing.

I'm hoping Theo and the Yawkey Way Brain Trust don't make the same mistake again this year. There's another extremely durable, extremely effective pitcher on the market this year you might have heard of. (Hint: his name rhymes with 'Balladay.') A right-handed hurler who, teamed up with the likes of Beckett and Jon Lester, would form one of the most vicious postseason trios of all time.

What's it going to take? Clay Buchholz? I've long been an apologist of the wiry young hurler's, wondering why he was being left to rot down in the Bucket while the likes of Brad Penny got us five innings a night at 10 times the price. But after Buchholz reprised his 2008 deer-in-the-headlights routine in Texas the other night, I think I've finally turned the corner and deemed him officially expendable. The kid's never going to live up to his no-hitter expectations in Boston. Classic change-of-scenery guy.

So while his value's still stratospheric thanks to those outrageous Triple-A numbers, let's get this thing done, stat. Put Clay and a couple of his former Portland/Pawtucket teammates on the next plane for Toronto, and get a locker ready for the Doc. Otherwise, I have a sneaking suspicion Fenway Park will be awful quiet once October/November rolls around - while a certain squad from the Bronx is enjoying a group champagne bath.

-I like cold, rainy weather as much as the next White Anglo-Saxon Protestant, but this is getting ridiculous. It's fucking July, man. At least the unseasonably low temperatures have essentially eliminated the need for air conditioning. Funny how it took the ice caps slowly melting, pouring cold water into the oceans and screwing up global weather patterns for us to cut back on our energy consumption.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a long, steaming hot shower while leaving my lamp, television and computer on and maybe, just for the hell of it, letting my car idle for a while.

godspeed,
dk