Sep 18, 2011

Well well well

The first pitch today, Los Angeles Angels of Disneyland at Baltimore took place at prob I am guessing, 4.07 pm PDT.  Maicer Izturis flied out to deep center.  One out.

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The song Well Well Well by The Plastic Ono Band (John Lennon) released 1970, Lennon's first Album statement since the Beatles broke up, is on the face of it, a pedestrian skewed blues.  It is essentially the same blues changes repeated ad infinitum with lyrics and primal screams.

It is still one of my all-time fave tracks.  I loved it as a teenager, writing a play around it and other solo Lennon tracks.  It is also fairly obv that tracks from this stellar album (Plastic Ono Band) were massive influences on artists today, such as, Lenny Kravitz (who basically owes his career to Plastic Ono Band) and Jon Spencer, whose fans should realize that I Found Out is one of the cornerstones of his entire career.

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"I took my loved one out to dinner/So we could get a bite to eat/And though we had been much thinner/She looked so beautiful I could eat her/Well well well oh well"

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Rangers and Mariners, prob a stupid Star Wars early start:  Ian Kinsler fouls out to first.

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There is something about sports, is not there? Is not there? The absolute joy that I am feeling across three time zones, men successful, men defeated.

My wife.  My wife, "Why must you wish others lose, why is that so integral to your happiness?"

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"We sat and talked of revolution/Just like two liberals in the sun/We talked of women's liberation/And how the hell we could get things done/Well well well oh well"

Sooners receive the ball at about 5.20 PDT, the Angels are flailing and the Rangers are beginning to rally.

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Josh Hamilton, you may have heard of him, has single-handedly, today in Seattle, decided that he alone decides the AL West.  And fuck everyone else.   It his him you should consult, thank you v much, if you have questions.

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Results are pouring in.

The Dems cave.  The Yankees win.  Mariano turns in to gold before our eyes.

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There are whispers.  Perhaps the standard bearer, the Nation's number one, are not up to the task.  Perhaps it is the same again to a gazillion Sooner fans.  He is not Huepel.  He is not Bradford.  He is not ...

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The Angels lose.  Santana allows five in the first.

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My goodness, they are trotting him out, ...

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It fits the profile of the home team upset, the kid, coming off the bench, leading his team to victory w/ a 56 yd TD pass on 3rd and 28.

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It is over in Seattle.  The magic number is seven.

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"I took my loved one to a big field/So we could watch the English sky/We're both feeling guilty/And neither one of us knew just why/Well well well oh well"

It is over in Tallahasee.  Stills.  (He says, yawning, so tired, drunk.)  Stills.  Stills.  (They will dread that catch for decades in No. Florida.)

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That is the magic of sports. Today was an absolute Home Run, 2 games shaved off a Magic Number and a huge road win against a quality opponent.

But there was sweat.  And blood pressures rising.

But there is bliss, falling to bed tonight, ESPN barely blaring in the quiet dark of my bedroom.

Only sport gives you that.









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