Shame! Shame on us both! Like infants deprived of the teat, Hurdy Chadwick and Stuffy McInnes are in the throes of sadness and fury.In truth, your intrepid and inky Rooters Hurdy and Stuffy had opportunity to ride the locomotive south to Fenway Park and give passes at the turnstile for yesterday's winning game against the Kansas squad, but personal and professional appointments kept us homebound.
And oh, how we are paying for our short-sighted error! Four years or more from now, we won't remember what mundane tasks kept us cloistered in Maine, far from the hooting and rooting at Fenway Park, and far from a magnificent gem of a match turned in by the hurler formerly known as Seattle Slop. Indeed, with a line of naughts across the board, Jon Lester, our devious, crafty and well-balanced man on the mound, is well deserving of a new moniker. Should he from now on be known as The Cascade Kid? More is Lester? Or, perhaps simply "Nothin' Doin'" Jonny? Let us hear the voices of the fans, and please correspond with Full Circuit Clout to offer your suggestions.
Meanwhile, from the depths of a sickbed, wherein Lester was in full clutches of The Grip, to hurling a game where not one Kansas bat made a hit into the field must be among the most heroic stories ever to come from the base-ball diamond. It surely eclipses the reigning hero tale of third-bag monitor Punches McGinley, who employed just a pinch of chaw and a dill pickle to rouse a lady Rooter suffering a mid-inning bout of the vapors.
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This Rooter like-wise had occasion to attend Monday eve's match of baseball, but deemed it wise, due to a backlog of "work", to corral his pony and observe the events at Boston's Fens over his televiewing machine. Not even repeated snifters of medicinal whiskey could stop my teeth from gnashing, such was the feeling of agita watching Lester spin and twirl the pill past the ill-named "Royals"!
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