"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion..." ~Henry David Thoreau

I suppose the first glimpse I had of this concept known as "death," should have impressed me at age 3. Having found a way to wander away from the watchful eyes of family and friends, I drifted ever so slowly into the forbidden "deep end," of the pool. To this day, the smell of plastic, the plastic they use to make those "floaty ring thingys," for little kids such as I was, takes me right back to that day...to that moment...the moment I chose to see what would happen if I were to raise my arms and free myself from my "floaty ring confinement," and finally see that pool light all the older kids would brag about seeing...

As I began sinking, I distinctly recall sensing I had finally accomplished the forbidden...

No longer contained by the floaty, finally under water...my eyes opened widely to witness the light...close enough that I could touch it, if I had been so inclined...and, within a moment, my touchable light was now drifting high above my head...out of reach. Realizing I was now entering into a realm I hadn't considered, I now found myself looking down...wondering how much longer I would sink...wondering if anyone had traveled this deep before...remembering hearing something about the drain, but not very often...

And...there it was...coming closer and closer toward me as I continued to sink. I guess it was at this moment, I began to crave a breath of air...

I guess it was at this moment I realized how very alone I was...and how very deep the water appeared above me...contorting the skylight with it's waves...like a chasm of blue...a blanket burying me...from a world I once knew...

The next thing I recall is my 7 year old sister appeared from nowhere and whisked me back to dry land...I don't recall much beyond that. In fact, I probably couldn't tell you anything that occurred in my life for years after that day...not as clearly as I recall that day...that hot afternoon...

I've had more than a few encounters with what would be explained to me later as "brushes with death." Whether it be the meningitis I came down with, or the several emergency surgeries involving major organs shutting down and septic shock or flat-lining due to severe illness...the one thing they all have had in common is the journey...

When I've been "gravely," ill...and barely conscious...the days or weeks or hours of my darkest times of struggle have always brought me to a place in my mind...

A place where the "real world," the world I know, is almost non-existent. Rather, my world becomes very narrow. And somewhere in that place of suffering and isolation, only a couple of aspects of reality exist...always the same 2 sensory perceptions: one is the near hallucination-like experience that I am in a dark, deep channel of water...very deep...very alone...the other side beckoning me...but I am too far from the either shore and immersed...

The other perception...almost tangible...is that I am holding a cord. Literally, I can feel a cord across the palm of my hand. And in those times of the most intense suffering...whether conscious or unconscious, I feel the cord...

One would think having escaped serious illness and impending death a couple of times, a person would have a severe change of heart, or perspective. I have to admit, it wasn't until 2005, when I found myself in the ER due to chronic blood loss via ulcers, and was registering a mere 3 on my hemoglobin level, and being asked if I wish to be resuscitated if I die...it wasn't until that moment I realized I could die.

...and wondered why I hadn't.

This last episode with being human...this last 6 months of wondering what was going wrong with my health...and really only finding myself GASP when the ultrasound technician got that uncomfortable look in her eye...when faced with my immediate questions to her...and her replies tearfully avoiding all communication at that moment...it was then that I was stopped in my tracks.

It was when the surgeon said IF IT'S CANCER that I had no other forms of denial or seeming disinterest to hide behind...

It was when I realized that people die and suffer every day and they die and I know some of these people and I always say to myself "this is life," and go on and go about my merry way...

...now, I was one of those people.

...one of those people who other people would say, "wow, glad it wasn't me," about...

...one of those people they would have to wonder what to say to when she is dying...

and

then there was the whole matter aside from people, or me, or the world, or the future...there was the fact that I DID NOT WANT TO SUFFER AND DIE.

and I thought about all the times I took life for granted...always believing "next year," I will do such-and-such...or in 3 years I plan to do "fill-in-the-blank..."

and I realized this was my journey. Life has always been temporary. All of the frustrations and petty shit that I have allowed to flood and occupy my mind, just as a means of habit...what does it amount to?

The sunrises and sunsets...how many I never really took the time to absorb them. The stars...the times I could have spent with family and friends but always thought I had tomorrow...

And I searched my heart and mind for the resolve and plan and strength to put on a mindset of I WILL PREVAIL, NO MATTER WHAT...

And...truth be told...this time...feeling like my tomorrow's may be running out...and it happens every day to someone, quite a few someones actually, on the planet...and I would just be another person who died...

My god.

And I searched my life and wondered, "Did it make any difference at all that I have lived?"

And, even while doing that, I realized my selfishness...caring about how much of an impression I made on the planet...being bitter that I never became the superstar I thought I always could be, but chose not to become...

And yes, I say this in jest. But...the dreams...the hopes we all have as children...or secret wishes we hold as adults...someday, I'm going to (whatever...)...

And what do you do when someday is not an option...

If today were my last day, would I be content? Would I resent that my life was ending? And, coming to the realization that YES, I WOULD BE PISSED OFF AS ALL HELL AND BACK, made me realize I really needed to get on my knees and get my head in the right place.

This life, every life, is a gift. And I've taken this gift for granted so much. My focus has been off of so many things in my life. Selfishness, pettiness, ignorance, greed...

I don't know. I've done a fair amount of crying and soul searching. And a few things God has shown me are really very simple. No one is promised tomorrow. Today means everything. And I truly must absorb and entrench myself into every single moment of today. If today means I spend it fighting over what movie to watch with family, then, MY GOD, HOW BLESSED I AM TO HAVE FAMILY.

...the blessings...

I thank God for this trial in my life. For the work he has done within my heart. Revealing to me my frailty. My character flaws. Revealing to me the incompleteness of the things I thought were strengths...independence, wisdom, determination, accomplishments...

they're all rubbish when you are facing suffering and death.

I thank God he has humbled me enough to realize how many people around me are truly suffering (or have suffered) in one way or another. Physically, emotionally...everyone has those drowning in the dark river/holding the cord moments...and...somehow...simply because I have been so focused on my immediate goals in life and enjoying my accomplishments and surfing the base levels of existence with ignorant bliss...I lost the ability to hear and see and feel and truly KNOW the deeper things...

to truly, gratefully immerse myself into my family...and into each day I am given to live...and to shoulder the burdens of those around me...and

what I've discovered is, the power of friendship and love from others...the simplicity of quietly watching a sunset and marveling at the magnificence that is our Creator...knowing His voice and seeing His hand in our lives...

these are enough. beyond enough.

I was going to write about the surgery and my experience and all that...but this is what has been heavy on my heart. This lesson of gratitude and being broken...being humbled...that I might truly see the beauty and meaning of this gift of life...

I am grateful to be on the other side of this event. But, this much I realize, all these years on the planet, and having truly thought I had learned all I ever needed to know in this lifetime...

I was wrong. No longer in the deep, dark river...no longer feeling the cord in my hand...may this opportunity God has given me for another day amount to something...

Not just for my life experience...but for theirs.

...for it is what we leave in the lives of others...this is what remains...

"I hate losing more than I love winning."
saw Moneyball again the other night. didn't really think much of it would permeate my mind any more than it had been permeated the first time i watched it. i was wrong. somewhere around monday i awoke with these exact words repeating in my mind. wondering where this concept entered, i went on the balcony with my coffee and recalled the scene from the movie and felt content to have an origin.

minutes later, i found my thoughts returning to these words. and then i realized where my mind was taking me. that damned game 2 of the Stanley Cup Finals. that final loss by my new found favorite hockey team: the New Jersey Devils.

i mean, the first loss in overtime was like a MAFIA HIT. took me completely off guard and made both my jaw and my heart drop.

the second loss. ah hell. it was deja vu all over again. in OVERTIME, YOU FOOLS?? but yes. another loss in overtime. i literally got chills the moment Los Angeles sunk that puck.

hope diminished rapidly that night. and the dark cloud was still lingering some time sunday night, before i awoke with these words filling my mind.

and i wondered. defeat. loss. wasn't i from the mold that screamed from the rooftops that defeat is never a possibility until it becomes a reality? why should i let stats and probability enter my thoughts? after all, what about the Bill Buckner, Bucky Dent, Aaron Boone, Colorado Rockies factor?

and then it hit me. the Rockies woke up and realized they were in the world series one day. they realized they were in Fenway. they realized they were on the top rung of the ladder and to fall was going to hurt...


"We lost because we told ourselves we lost." ~Tolstoy

winning. losing.

i spent a good portion of the day comparing the two. the emotional impact...the dynamics that precipitate each...every possible way of Rubic's Cubing the matter of winning and losing was engaged in my mind...forward, backward, sideways, intellectual, emotional, spiritual...

and i thought about Bruce Lee's quotes, i thought about Sun Tzu's strategic, yet common sense approach...i thought of examples and memories and i grew exhausted.

finally, by monday evening, when the New Jersey Devils went out on the ice to get the snot beat out of them, i had already come to a place where i could accept watching this team who i have enjoyed watching a full two months now, fall to the only other team i had enjoyed watching a full two months. i could smile and be happy for their achievements and get back to baseball.

i was wrong. the concept of winning and losing has become a continual muse of successive thoughts as those damned Devils opted to return in game 4 and win the bastard.

do i hate losing more than i love to win? i mean, what kind of a person would that make me? ungrateful? entitled? everyone loses, it's part of the game, right? and if you can't take your lumps and stand tall, then don't godamned play, right? who the hell would HATE losing MORE than they love to WIN? isn't WINNING all that matters?

and what i realized was...oddly...this quote...it was uttered by Jimmy Conners, originally; not Billy Beane.

and, having discovered that from Googling it, i discovered another quote; from Billie Jean King, of all people. she said, "Victory is fleeting, losing is forever."

and that's when i discovered the truth. yes, winning feels great. but it's always temporary. the moment you win the game, it's over. and yes, you may be the winner today, but tomorrow always comes. and there will always be another tomorrow after that and someone other than you will have the opportunity to take your place and make their mark.

but still. maybe somewhere there might be a plaque or a statue of what you've done that will stand through time, right?

sure. but let's look at the opposite. games 4, 5, 6, 7 of the 2004 ALCS, for instance. the year the Red Sox marched right in to Yankee stadium, having been 0-3, they had to return for 4 nights in a DO OR DIE scenario. when i think about the guts it takes to show up, knowing one inning, one play, one wrong pitch could be your instant end...and to do this FOUR TIMES...knowing any moment, the very reasons you TRY could amount to nothing but loss...

i dunno. what does it take to reach deep inside the human will and force the matter? to toe up to the line and refuse to go quietly? is it something in a person or does it have to be in the whole team? do you have to have more than a "nothing left to lose," mentality when the pendulum swing in the direction of fate opening a door to you possibly WINNING, after all??

i think of David Freese in the 2011 world series, game 6. 1 strike away from watching the very team he was opposing slap each other in exhilaration and jubilance, seizing their trophy in YOUR STADIUM...knowing the whole time you were the final out...

what does it take to step into that batters box and not only try...but believe by trying you might actually WIN?

and what i realize is...i DO love winning, but LOSING is something that brings with it a plethora of emotion that seems to remain for a VERY LONG TIME. forever, really.

and what i realize is...losing will happen to half the guys on any given day in any given sport during any given game.

and what i realize is...life is a series of wins and losses. it's not so much about fearing failure as much as it is accepting defeat, but using that wisdom gained from defeat to stand firm when faced with it...and to try.

go out in a blaze of glory, whoever you are. you have nothing to lose but the conviction that, by trying, you might win...

becauseitsthecup

if you’ve been a fan of sports long enough, you know that feeling you sometimes get just before an important series. that reality that churns in your gut...reaching all the way down to the center of your being. it almost seems like insight...like clairvoyance...it can manifest itself as anxiety, other times, it feels like peace. it’s almost a tingly kind of feeling that permeates your brain and brings with it moments of confusion and resolution, as well as confidence and panic. and...because the first game hasn't even been played yet, you’re not entirely sure what to make of it, as you wait.

skip ahead, the final moment of said important series comes and goes and, instantly you find yourself saying to yourself “i saw that coming! i knew it, all along.” welp, i have that feeling right now. i don't know how, or when, what, who, or why...but i know. the Stanley Cup will be won by the New Jersey Devils. believe what you want. hope and cheer, wish and bargain with God...the Cup is theirs. and that's that. i could be wrong, but, my life experiences have taught me to never discount or resign that gut feeling. and that's all i gots to says about thats.

MVP...as of 4/27/12

As I was walking to my car this morning, a thought occured to me. A question, actually. And that question (which just randomly entered my mind) was; "Who, in your opinion, is the most valuable player in Major League Baseball today?"

As I took a few more steps, I wondered why I would ask this question to myself.

Perhaps having seen the last few minutes of Moneyball right when I woke up...perhaps pondering Billy Beane and sabermetrics and being passionate about baseball...and it being 6 o'clock in the morning had influenced me internally. I figured I'd go with it. I figured I'd check later and see how close I was to being right. Therefore, my answer to myself was straight and simple, "Derek Jeter."

And here we are. nearly 6 hours later and I have finally taken a moment or two to reflect upon this morning's muse. Having dealt with more pressing work-related matters, I opted to take a moment or two to crunch some stats and see if, indeed, I was right.

I was.

Now, inasmuch as we've got Matt Kemp leading the league with his batting average at .449, and David Ortiz in second place (with stats of which I refuse to waste time considering), I discovered Jeter in third for the league with a .420 average. This all being the case, one might wonder how I can emphatically conclude Derek Jeter to be the most valuable player in the league today...

Allow me to retort. First off, Ortiz (and whatever he has accomplished) is a DH. This means he contributes ZERO to defense, he rests between at-bats, and basically would be considered an asset at-bat. However, if pitched around, his only value becomes a non-consideration and therefore amounts to not much. Judging by the last few consecutive months of Red Sox baseball, I'd say his contribution is moot at best.

Now we skip ahead to the two main contributors of defense, as well as hitting. Inasmuch as Kemp is batting .449 with 31 hits in 19 games, 4 2B, 10HR, 23 RBI, 10BB, and 1 stolen base...Jeter, in 18 games has MORE HITS (34), MORE DOUBLES (6), and has as many stolen bases as Kemp.

What about RBI and HOMERS, you ask? Well, yes. Jeter does have LESS RBI than Kemp, (13), that is 10 less RBI. However, Kemp, for all of 2012 thus far, has bat THIRD in each game with his evil Dodgers. Jeter, conversely, never bats third, and is generally in a lead-off batting order which means there generally aren't men on base to bat in. For Jeter to be a mere 10 RBI behind Kemp is quite impressive, given that disadvantage.

Let's also talk about the value of each players defense. Inasmuch as I love a good outfielder, I would say a MULTI GOLD GLOVE WINNING SHORTSTOP is far more crucial with regard to executing a double play or a laid-down bunt...simply put: there aren't too many good defenders at Short, who can also BAT. Nothing against outfielders, but, it's not unusual for "those who can hit," to be placed way out in the field cause perhaps "they can't field." (jus sayin.) It is a known fact that most Shortstops don't hit for power. Again, in my opinion, to have a player at Short who is a career .314 batter, that's quite impressive.

That is, Matt Kemp, 27 years old, on his 7th season in the majors, with a career .297 batting average, is indeed NOT AS VALUABLE AS Derek Jeter, 38 years old, on his 18th season of major league baseball, with a career .314 batting average, who is presently batting .420 for 2012 and engaged in a 15-game hitting streak. Sue me if you disagree...but these are my reasons, my facts, and my musings. And I'm right.

"How can you not be passionate about baseball...?" ~Billy Beane

Something about waiting all winter for baseball to resume seems to add to the expectation that the waiting will have amounted to something other than what I seemed to be encountering...

By May 7th, I was fairly certain I had arrived at a conclusion:

It is better to wait without baseball, than to have baseball and continue to

lose games.

Something about one day turning into another day, turning into a week, turning into a month, didn't seem as evil and depressing and annoying and perplexing, as when one has nothing but days and weeks and months without baseball. However, days and weeks and months of continual loss is just pure unadulterated shite and one must ask themselves, "Why am I allowing myself to be a victim of this stupid game when I could spend a nice day in the park on the swings, kicking over sand castles and throwing sticks at nearby joggers?"

On May 7th, I was already aware of the Pythagorean projection for the 2009 New York Yankees; Slated to win 95 games, slated to lose the Division despite having acquired Teixeira, Burnett, and Sabathia. Slated for, at most 3rd place, within the American League East, behind the evil Boston Red Sox and equally annoying Tampon Bay Rays.

By May 7th, after having lost 5 games (out of 5 games) to the evil Red Sox...and after having lost a myriad of other games to the evil Tampon Bay Rays, Toronto, Baltimore...ah hell, you name the team, we were losing to them...rolling over and handing them wins.

In fact, by May 7th, we had a total of 13 wins. Uh huh. 13 whole wins...and 15 big fat losses...

AND...we had just accomplished another rare milestone for most baseball teams*: we had just completed yet another losing streak: this time of 5 straight games...(and, as irony would dictate with all the "5's," involved)...yes...we were 5.5 games back for the division.

(* except for the Marlins, Nationals, Orioles, Mets, and all them other sucky teams.)

The season had just begun. And we couldn't hit, we couldn't field, we couldn't pitch, we couldn't run...but DAMN! did we did have that whole WALKING THE BASES LOADED and STRIKING OUT WITH MEN ON BASE thing down pat.

I remember that morning of May 7th...

I sat down...and there on the tv...an interview with Jeter...the Captain...

after yet another Yankees / Red Sox loss.

And there he is...answering the usual non-applicable questions encountered by interviewers after losses...asked by some nameless / faceless person who generally has no concept as to what the game of baseball involves...but relishes the idea that they are talking with the LOSER who MAY OR MAY NOT just break into tears and beg for a hug...

as if we're the Mets or something...

but the question...

I'll never forget it. A clearly fatigued (and seemingly annoyed NON-CRYING) Jeter, was enduring question after question about Boston's dominance and what the hell is wrong with the Yankees and so on and so forth, was asked: "Do you have any concerns for this 2009 Yankees Team?"

(Which I thought was a repetitious question and just filler for detaining Jeter just a little bit longer for possible post-interview huggage...)

And then he turned his head, looked straight into the camera and uttered a single word: "Nope."

His lips pursed, his gaze still straight at the camera...a cold silence filled the room...and those eternal 5 seconds of Jeter looking straight into the camera...at the viewer...at ME, basically...that determination...that confidence...

I walked out onto the balcony and thought to myself: he's delusional.

And then the questions rolled into my head: "How can he be so emphatic? Why did he say he has no concerns? Did he just want to end the stupid interview? No concerns? Is it the money? Does he have no concerns cause he just doesn't care?"

But then the answers rolled in. "He cares. He's a professional. He knows how to play the game. They all know how to play the game. Something is missing that I haven't seen yet, but he knows this 2009 Yankees team has what it takes and will do what they need to do. He knows something. And, if HE has no concerns, and he REALLY CLEARLY DOES NOT, then I will have no concerns, either. I will wait. I will wait and see if I can discover what he knows about this team.... I will wait, and I will see..."

By May 23rd, 2009, the Yankees were able to amass a 9 game winning streak and come within 1 game of the Division.

Ah, yes...throughout the 2009 season, the Yankees had a losing record to teams like the evil PHILLIES...and almost got swept by both the CLUELESS FLORIDA MARLINS and the equally inept WASHINGTON NATIONALS...

They lost 9 to the evil Red Sox...and the world of Yankee fans were beginning to believe the end of the world was at hand...sackcloth and ashes were going up in stock on Wall Street...

but then the 2009 Yankees TOOK the evil Red Sox for 9.

And...in the end, that whole projection of 95 wins was somewhat misconfigured, as the New York Yankees finished the regular season with 103 wins...went on to the World Series, and went on to become World Champions.

Again.

And, after the end of the 2009 season, I came to a "Derek Jeter Emphatic Delusional," conclusion: "Tis better to have played and lost...Than to have never played at all."

prospects, HUH. what are they good for???

(the following is a reply to an email i just wrote regarding trading kids in our farm system to bulk up our team. forgive the possible inaccuracies, although i got most of it right...i just woke up...and i typed it all in about 4 minutes.)

the thing is, yes. rookies, or prospects, do have seasons of struggle. i remember when everyone was all in fits over cano's first few seasons, wanting to trade him due to his fielding and, well, lack of TENURE / SUPERSTAR status, really. and here we are. cashman stood by him, knowing he was still developing, and the ALL SO SOUGHT AFTER VETERAN FREE AGENTS would only continue to age and their career numbers would decline and we'd be right back at square one, looking for YET ANOTHER VETERAN FREE AGENT to fill his shoes. yes, not all prospects develop into KEEPERS. but, robbie went on to post some amazing numbers and acquire a silver? glove (if not gold. again, it's the offseason and i'm barely awake right now...)

what the san francisco giants wouldn't do for a robbie cano today...

and, inasmuch as i am FINE with freeing ourselves from ian kennedy, turns out he really DID have the potential cashman had stood by in 08. (although he and hughes hadn't quite developed enough to be in the 4th and 5th spots.) however, they...along with cano and a handful of others, were sought in exchange for JOHAN SANTANA. well, where is santana now? and how many seasons has he MVP'd for the mets? imagine, instead of a future of developing prospects (much like jeter, rivera, pettitte, posada, etc. etc. who forged a dynasty and have remained as invaluable to the yankees) we would be looking to replace johan.

i am a firm proponent of holding onto valuable prospects. 2010, the san francisco giants utilized madison bumgarner in the world series. the kid was in AA when the season began. and where was their $127 million dollar VETERAN, barry zito? not even on the roster.

the future is NOT formulating a team of HAS-BEEN VETS with lengthy contracts that usher us into a 92 wins season, behind the red sox...

the future is patiently grooming our prospects and wise trades or FA acquisitions. after all, was ANYONE thinking MVP for a guy named DAVID FREES last december? if you were, i applaud you. lol.

anyhow. this is the foundation of my philosophy behind building another dynasty. not unlike the vision buck showalter has had for the various championship-bound teams he's been asked to assemble over the years.

as a side note, it was BUCK who preceeded OUR dynasty. when jeter, pettitte, posada, and rivera were rookies. and rivera was extremely close to being traded, due to his COMPLETE INABILITY TO START. patience and vision. and here we are. we will always have the BEST CLOSER IN THE HISTORY OF THE GAME.

just food for thought...

oh my GOODNESS! where to START?

well, i just wanna give a shout out to REIMOLD (spelling insignificant, really) and to the other dude (ANDINO?) for SMACKIN THE SNOT out of the ball on JONATHON PAPELBON'S WATCH.

i wanna thank the RED SOX for manufacturing one of the FUNNEST septembers i've had in a long time...

i wanna thank the TAMPON BAY RAYS for being pesky lil shites and makin boston SWEAT...


i wanna give a shout out to all 90 of the batters across the League (both American annnnd National) who were routinely HIT BY BOSTON PITCHERS UPON VARIOUS PARTS OF THEIR PERSONS...

god...who am i forgetting?? oh, i wanna give a shout out to LESTER for pitching on 3 days rest and looking JUST AS BAD TODAY as he has for a while now...

i wanna give a shout out to the 2010 RED SOX TEAM who, while missing ALL THE PRIMADONNA OVERPAID PHENOMS WHO WERE HERALDED AS THE NEXT WORLD SERIES MESSIAHS FOR 2011, went out there and played some BADASS BALL as minor leaguers called up and whatnot, GUESS WHAT BOYS? YALL scored only 1 less win last year than when ALL THE PRIMADONNAS RETURNED FROM THEIR VARIOUS REAL OR IMAGINARY INJURIES and after THEO SOLD THE FARM TO GET CARL "don't axe me to do shit for this team," CRAWFORD & "YO," ADRIAN GONZALEZ!

(and them kids only had to hit 53 batters, nearly half as many as the 2011 INPENETRABLE STARTING ROTATION OF AWE AND WONDER we all beheld and read about and were made to HEAR about on a daily basis from december til, well, TIL NOW.

GOD BLESS THE BALTIMORE ORIOLES FOR BEING GUTSY, GRITTY, AND SHOWING THE WORLD: "WE GOT FOR $85 MILLION WHAT YOU AIN'T GOT FOR $160 MILLION!" *

*(mind you, YO ADRIANS SALARY AND BONUS AREN'T REFLECTED IN THAT SUM, AND RUMOR HAS IT: IN THE END, THE BOSTON RED SOX WILL MORE THAN LIKELY HAVE OUT-SPENT THE YANKEES IN 2011. jus sayin.)

wow. before closing, i wanna thank JESUS and the Academy and the makers of Red Bull and MLB EXTRA INNINGS. hat's off to the red sox for their historic moment, witnessed by MOST of us...never before accomplished in baseball: the GREATEST COLLAPSE IN ALL MAJOR LEAGUE HISTORY. i knew ya'll had it in you. thanks for making our dreams a reality. good night and God bless!