Eat My Shit Black Nathan

Yeah, it's gonna be about the Red Sox. I'm still trying to comprehend living in a world where the Red Sox are feared. It's pretty fucking awesome. Even more awesome is the half-retarded, bat shit crazy closer they have named Jonathan Papelbon. You see, until this year, 2004 seemed like a fluke (a fucking glorious world ending one, at that) because of the disappointing playoff runs of the the following two years. Now, with the first post-Curse of the Fat Hooker Banging Drunk trophy, the world is suddenly anew. The possibilities for a bright and shiny tomorrow are endless. No longer are the members of the Nation hanging nooses from the rafters expecting a September or October collapse. They're all now saving money for bar tabs when the Red Sox...well...win. Papelbon's variation on the Irish jig is a sign of that optimism and unabounded elation. Shit, I did this in the middle of Fitzgerald's after he hurled his glove in to oblivion. And I never get tired of seeing it.