I Hate a Parade

I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm not going to the White Sox victory parade today, even though it's not all that far from my office. I'm already living a Cubs fan's worst nightmare, I don't need any additional visuals.

I've now blogged four days in a row. I think that's the second sign of the apocalypse.

Fresh Smut Peddlers

I resisted the hype as long as I could, but I'm heavy into the New Pornographers' Twin Cinema. (Check out the album site; it's been cleverly created to look like an Internet Movie Database entry.) I'd heard ad nauseum how great it was and, being disappointed in their last one, Electric Version (also because of the hype), I initially passed. Funny what a record being available on iTunes for $9.99 will do for your interest in it. Now I'm properly hooked. There's a little too much Neko for my taste, and -- to quote one of the songs -- there are probably "Three or Four" too many tunes, but this one's found its rightful place in the year-end top 10.

I'll also have to revisit Electric Version to see what, if anything, I missed.

Faves: "Twin Cinema," "Use It," "Sing Me Spanish Techno"

Geoff F%$&#@* Blum?!?!

I mean, come on.

You know a team is destined to take the Series when a guy hits a game-winning homer in his first at-bat in three weeks, on the heels of a walk-off HR from a guy who had a grand total of squat in the regular season.

I had more to say about all of this, but I just don't have it in me after all. Congrats to the Sox -- they won't blow a 3-0 lead; the Cubs would, the Sox won't -- and to the long-suffering, non-Cubs/Cubs-fan hating faction of supporters (like my dad).

All I know is that it's going to be a little unbearable being a Cubs fan in this city for quite a while. Wait...make that more unbearable.

Slap and Tickle

I'd like to be one of the people saying, "It could happen in any ballpark." And maybe it does (though I've not heard of a player's wife ever being physically abused anywhere else). But the incident between a Sox fan and Craig Biggio's better half is yet another black eye for those fans to the south. There are, naturally, idiots all over the country at games -- I'm friends with some of them -- but I'd say hitting a woman in the head kind of goes over the line. At a time when Sox fans should be reveling solely in how their team is doing, this goober single-handedly resurrects the ghost of William Ligue. Nice job.

The subject of fandom, including the need for some people to get drunk at sporting events as if their lives depend on it, is a fascinating one, indeed. Which means I won't be exploring it here.

I must say, however, that while Biggio (Mr., not Mrs.) is a player whom I'd like to see bitch-slapped -- he's right up there with Oswalt for me -- he earned some points today by saying the late, great Walter Payton was one of his idols.

Completely off the subject, my reader(s) will now have to use word verification to comment on ye olde blog. When the spam comments outnumber the real ones, measures must be taken. (I received two spam comments on this post before I could even switch to word verification after it was initially published. The bastards work quickly.)

Sox in the City

Being a Cubs fan is usually pretty difficult, but with the White Sox making the World Series, it's been -- to use a phrase I loathe -- ratcheted up a notch. I've been asked at least a dozen times during the playoffs if I'm rooting for the White Sox. The short answer: No.

The long answer: As a kid, I grew up hating the Sox, mostly because that's what you did if you were a fan of one team over the other. Also, my dad is a lifelong Sox fan; that surely had something to do with it. As time went on and I moved away from the area, my hatred turned into apathy, and that's essentially where I now stand. I don't hate the Sox, and while I read about them in the paper and watch the occasional game, I don't care how they do.

However, while I do not actively wish for their demise, I will never root for them. I just can't, especially with the daily reminder of how they accomplished what the Cubs always fail to do (with '03 being the most recent agonizing example). I can sort of hope they do well so that fans like my dad can enjoy the ride, but I won't cheer for them. Ever.

It's interesting that they're playing Houston in the Series, because I do actively dislike the Astros. While Roy Oswalt is an amazing pitcher, he's also a punk. During a game vs. the Cubs in '04, he threw at Michael Barrett so deliberately, nailing him flush in the back, that it would've been funny if it weren't so infuriating. Then he walked off the mound with this smug look on his face that I'll never forget.

So, even if I hated the Sox, which I don't, I wouldn't be able to root for the Astros, whom I do. (Though I may root for the Sox to knock out Oswalt.) Basically, I'll just watch and hope for some good baseball, which is what I generally end up doing every year anyway.

Rat Kool-Aid

The Internet continues to amaze me. I'm not sure what's more baffling: that there's a site devoted to Gary Gaetti or that it's so poorly done.

Belated props to the Rat, however, for pushing the Cubs to the '98 wildcard.

Number One with a Finger

Bears quarterback Kyle Orton, left, tells fans how many victories we can logically expect this season with him at the helm. Either that, or he's merely emulating the classic bird from Da Coach.

Stupid, Spoiled Athlete Quote of the Week

Nuggets center Marcus Camby -- who makes $9.3 million a year -- when asked about the NBA's proposed new dress code asking players to be neat on the bench and dress well on trips with sport coats and collared shirts:

"I don't see it happening unless every NBA player is given a stipend to buy clothes. Guys who haven't been wearing suits and don't own suits, it will be really hard to get them in time for the season."

Hey, douchebag, you've got a $9.3 million stipend already! And this is on top of the per diem they all get. Just when you think pro athletes can't be more out of touch, up steps another jackass.

Carry That Weight

I finally got a my hands on Nada Surf's fourth record, The Weight is a Gift, a few days ago. Outstanding. It's not quite what 2003's Let Go was/is -- one of my favorite albums of all-time -- but as a follow-up to a classic, it's about as good as could be expected.

If there's a complaint, it's that the songs just aren't quite as memorable as those on Let Go. The latter's amazing tunes were indelible from first listen; this one has taken a while, but now it's numero uno on the ol' iPod.

For my thoughts on Let Go (and the LP has grown in my estimation since), here's a review and an interview with guitarist/vocalist/songwriter Matthew Caws.

In other music news, Paul informed me that Philadelphia's Bigger Lovers are calling it quits. Simply put, this is a damn shame. These guys put out three excellent power-pop (for lack of a better term) efforts, and I've always wanted to see the full band in concert. I saw a drummer-less show in 2004 after the drummer's dad passed away a day earlier; while inspiring, it definitely left me wanting the full-band experience. I may try to go the farewell show Nov. 5 in Philly. Not likely, though.