Preparing for Glory

This is what is it's like outside, so we're blogging over the phone. Note that despite the asinine weather, we're still managing to blog. Also,we have no more furniture from IKEA to build, so we have no excuse.

We have some news. Albeit, not very exciting news.
1. Like last year, we'll be attending both Yankees' and Mets' Opening Days.
2. We're forming our own fantasy baseball league this year. We're done with this collusion business that's been plaguing our former league for years. We're moving on to bigger and better things. We're quietly amassing our league participants. Our goal is a 12-team league. We're seriously considering opening a few team slots to our followers, but we're concerned that you'll be annoying. Feel free to try and convince us that you won't be annoying.
3. We've decided to legitimately visit the Baseball Hall of Fame this year. We promise that this is the year. We will not fail you.
4. The New York media has inundated us with reports on Alex Rodriguez's progress during spring training. Unfortunately, there hasn't been a single interesting update. It would be more entertaining if they informed us how often he took a sh*t. No one cares that he's making friends. What a waste of a mobile alert (ahem, Sportscenter).
5. Tentative stadium tour 2015: Miami Marlins
6. We've started working out together on Sundays again. Watch out Instagram.

We intended to write an actual blog. Serena called Lisa. She logged into Blogger. The conversation turned to Mets' Opening Day (Old Man Ed is handling Yankees' Opening Day). It took Lisa twenty minutes to actually procure tickets. Fifteen of those minutes involved her selecting our seats. The final cost was follows:
Tickets: $39/each
Convenience Charge: $10.50
Parking: $21
Convenience charge: $1.00
Per order fee: $6.00
Grand Total: $116.50
Thank you, MLB, Mets, and Ticketmaster for continuing to bend us over a table. 

Somehow, during this transaction, we ended up discussing our fantasy league. Serena created our league. Then spent twenty minutes researching and creating various fantasy team names.Eventually, we invited two other people to join. The end.

Meet the Johnsons

We are coming to you live from the comforter of Serena . Today is the draft for Serena's second fantasy baseball team "Goonies Never Say Die." I am on the side lines here, reporting in real time how the live draft will go down. We currently have two laptops working. One on my lap for the commentary of the draft for the blog and one on Serena's lap so she can choose her team wisely and win the "Shiva"

A little tid bit about this league: she's the only chick and she got stuck last year with a sh*tty ass team and took them to third! Booyah! This year, Goonies Never Say Die will rise from the shadows like the great pumpkin on Halloween night and be victorious. 

We have t minus 31 minutes left. Serena is currently putting players in her "shopping cart" if you will.

Now it's down to 18 minutes. Isn't the suspense killing you?

While we wait we will have a short recap of St. Patrick's day . We started off the night with a shot of Jameson while listening to Denis Leary's Irish song and filmed a epic video (that can only be seen on Instagram so you need to start following us cause you're missing out on major shenanigans.) Then of course we needed to eat so we stuffed our fat pie holes with loaded fries and spinach dip and some beer. We then winded up at a white trash bar that played lots of country music and a fantastic song about red solo cups. Twas a early night for us . The next day we had off and decided to be bad ass and, well, we are not saying what we did, but if curiosity is really killing you, then we suggest stalking us on Instagram and you will see what kind of trouble we got into.

7 minutes and counting people!!!

3 minutes.

Only seconds away -
10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1- it's starting!!!!!

We are now entering the live draft. Serena is waiting. She is in the 10th spot. Serena's first move is Curtis Granderson. Wise choice. Hopefully he will do her a solid and not suck since we all know that once you put on the orange and blue, your career takes a turn for the worse.

Serena has made a mad dash to the bathroom. It's a good thing she has some Flash Gordon-like skills because she came back just in time to pick Jon Lester. A lot of the guys in her shopping cart are being taken right before our eyes. A large gasp and a "You F*ck," shortly follows.

Next up a starting pitcher, Cole Hamels is the chosen one followed up by selecting Jim Johnson on her next go about.

Congratulations, Brandon Phillips you are now apart of something so much bigger.

"Short stop or pitcher?" Serena asks. I say, "pitcher you can never have enough pitchers."  CJ Wilson come on down.

Serena already knows who she is picking on her next turn, but she makes them wait like a cougar stalking its prey. Let them stew and wonder when she will attack. It's called psychological warfare. A good minute goes by and then she clicks on the draft button. She has chosen Chris Tillman.

Everth Cabrea follows up.

Wouldn't be a draft unless Serena spews out "I hope you get Herpes and die" as someone chooses a player she was eyeing. Oppa, Nick Markakis!

Houston, she has a Huston Street now. I feel that I maybe found my calling in life. It's very easy to come up with cheesy catch phrases. Maybe I should look into being a sports announcer. Something to ponder.

Another potty break and Serena hands the computer over so I can make the next selection if necessary. It's intense.

Okay. She's back just in time to select Jarrod Saltalamacchia.

Yessssssssssssssssssssssss! She scored Torii Hunter.

Hunger has now set in, but we can't move. Not with what's at stake.The sounds of our stomach echo in the background.  Would anyone like to deliver us food?

Chris Johnson is selected. One always needs a man that plays the field in many different ways and you may take that dirty as well.

Add another Johnson on the team, this time, Kelly.

Kyle Lohse wins a spot as well as Eric Aybar. Ichiro Suzuki is just a short click away and the team is complete.

And here you have it folks. Let's give a big welcome you your 2014 Goonies Never say Die:

Miguel Cabrera
Prince Fielder
Lisa's Husband (aka David Wright)
Yadier Molina
Stephen Strasberg
James Shields
Curtis Granderson
Jon Lester
Cole Hamels
Jim Johnson
Brandon Phillips
CJ Wilson
Chris Tillman
Everth Cabrera
Nick Markakis
Huston Street
Jarrod Saltalamacchia
Torii Hunter
Chris Johnson
Kelly Johnson
Kyle Lohse
Erick Aybar
Ichiro Suzuki

Well, that sums up another great draft. It's been a pleasure. I bid you a good night, America .

- Lisa

It's So Close, We Can Almost Smell The Sausage

So 1 person voted on our poll, which asked if you were totally sure you wanted more video. This 1 buffoon said, yes. This is not adequate feedback. Now what are we supposed to do? Take more video? Don't take more video? Flip you off? Feed you pancakes? What. Are. We. Supposed. To. Do?

As you are well aware, Monday is Opening Day for the both of us, which means next Sunday, you'll be receiving two solo posts and 0 together posts. Get over it. You'll love it. Because then the following week, you might get a video, but we're not promising anything. We're still not over the fiasco of last week. Here's how it's going to go down on Opening Day. We will both try to twat somewhat regularly from the game. We will distinguish our twats by prefacing them with our names. And for those of you out there doing it (and you know who you are), STOP imagining tattoos in naughty places. We're talking about our Twatter account (@TravelingBBabes). If you are in either of the houses (Citi Field or Yankees Stadium), message us, twat us, find us, whatever, take a picture with us and we'll sign your boobs. If you're at Citi Field, you might get to shake Papa L.'s hand as he begs you to marry his oldest daughter. If you're at Yankees Stadium, you get to meet Old Man Ed, who is not Serena's grandfather, but he could be. He probably won't ask you to marry Serena, but there'll most likely be a penetration joke thrown in there somewhere. He fancies himself quite the pimp daddy at the ripe age of 4 billion.

Fantasy baseball season is upon us again. Get ready to hear a lot of nonsense about The Asstastic Bunch and Tigers Love Pepper. The exciting news is that we managed to recruit one of our awesome TBB readers to join our league! It's gonna be AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-MAZING!

This week's baseball notes:
Justin Verlander landed a record-breaking contract extension this week. With his 5-year extension valued at $180 million, the Tigers have guaranteed that Verlander will be in Detroit through 2019 and possibly 2020 (who can even comprehend these years right now??). It's become clear that Serena will have to move in order to make their relationship work, which is incredibly inconvenient seeing as how she just moved. And the Christmas boxes still haven't made it into the attic.

The Tigers aren't the only team throwing the big bucks around. The Giants secured Buster Posey yesterday for another 8 years and $167 million. He's 26 years old and he's worth more than the two of us, our cars, our internet machines, and our sense of humors combined. And we thought our sense of humor was priceless. This is incredibly depressing.

In more depressing news, Johan Santana will most likely not be making another start as a Met...ever...again. On Thursday, the Mets announced that Santana had re-torn his left shoulder capsule. This is the second time Santana has suffered this injury in 3 years. What is he doing that this keeps happening? Is he lifting David Ortiz as part of his bullpen warmup? What the sh*t?

For those of you celebrating, we hope you enjoyed your Passover and to anyone else, have a Happy Easter!

Shenanigans & Tom Foolery

Let's get the important sh*t out of the way right now:

 

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

 



Obviously, since it's the most holy day of the year, you're not getting an intensive on baseball today. We're sorry, but that's the way the calendar fell this year. Hello? Do we need to remind you about what happened last year? This year we're going to our first St. Patrick's Day parade, which is very exciting. Lisa is going to be surrounded on all sides by Serena's people...and a few people who wishes they were her people. Another first for us this year is that Serena has become an accidental ginger. So now she REALLY looks Irish. Thankfully, it's not fire crotch red. That would be a tragedy.

Last week, we finally gave you the burpee video you've been waiting for. Apparently, it was a big success because you want more videos of us. Facebook fan, Mark, even suggested we film our predictions for the upcoming season. We decided that this was an excellent suggestion, but of course, we can't just give you something straightforward. We're a-holes. We're going to turn this into a mockery. You'll love it. Anyway, we asked you if you liked our blooper reel or "serious" burpee video better. Turns out that all whopping 3 of you liked the blooper better. Why did we even bother with the other one?

Baseball notes:
TOWSNBN managed to hurt himself during the fake Olympics like a real a-hole. He strained his left intercoastal muscle (they seriously could've described this injury in lameman's terms instead of being douchebags about it) and now he doesn't even know if he'll be ready for Opening Day. Well, guess what, TOWSNBN? You're a d*ck. But everyone else on the planet thinks you and Derek Jeter's farts smell like honeysuckle. We know better. And you've upset Lisa, so now you're paying for lunch and all of the beer we drink today.

The Yankees have officially signed outfielder Brennan Boesch in a deal worth $1.5 million. Boesch was recently released from the Tigers. Lisa recently commented that Serena's reaction was very indecisive. Probably because Serena had him playing for Tigers Love Pepper last fantasy season and his output was very indecisive!!!! If he doesn't get his sh*t together, Serena is going to start calling him Brenda.

That's all, folks. It's time for our shot of Jameson, a slice of Irish soda bread with butter, and Denis Leary's Irish Drinking Song.

NFL Back to Football Run

What's this? NFL in the title of a baseball blog post? Have we lost our minds? Are we confused? Do we not know where to turn? No. We are just cocky a-holes that enjoy boasting about our pathetic accomplishments. Plus, we promised Auntiedukes that she'd be in the blog and by the power of Grayskull, she will be in this blog!!! Last week, we asked you who you'd most want to attend a dinner party with. For no reason other than the fact that Lisa is obsessed with attending one of Derek Jeter's. Apparently he has gold place settings. She's fascinated. It's disturbing that 2 people chose Mark Sanchez and Tim Tebow. Neither one of them have anything interesting to say and Tebow doesn't even put out. Exactly what did you hope to gain by this experience? 2 people chose Jeter. These 2 invidividuals probably watched the same documentary that Lisa did. Eli Manning and David Wright each earned 1 vote. Here's the thing. While Jeter and the Douchebag Brothers earned 2 votes apiece, which trumps Wright's and Manning's 1 vote, 2-1 isn't much in terms of dominance. This means not a single New York golden boy garners enough passion from you people to warrant an influx of support. In all honesty, none of these men strike us as being the life of the party. In all of these instances, we're pretty sure that WE would be the entertaining ones in the mix, which is just sad. These are wealthy professional athletes. They should be fun and awe-inspiring, but they're not. We are. Those saps don't know what they're missing by not hanging out with us. Just ask Timmy. Timmy knows.

As you know, the evening before our drive from hell to DC to visit Nationals Park, we participated in the inaugural NFL Back to Football Run in Central Park with Auntiedukes, Small Fry, and two of Small Fry's cross-country track teammates. We ran under the team name, "The Intergenerationals" because we had a bevy of ages running with us, but for some reason, our team was unacceptable because the website never registered our team. The run was created to celebrate the start of the football season as well as to promote the NFL's foundation, Play60 and the course encompassed a 4-mile trail in the middle of the park beginning near the Strawberry Fields monument.

We met Auntiedukes and Small Fry near the start/finish line. But first, we took a few pictures of what we'd be soon running through. Leading to the start/finish line were flags representing each NFL team.

Auntiedukes had been nice enough to pick up our race bibs and Back to Football Run t-shirts ahead of time, but unfortunately forgot to pick up her own shirt.

While Auntiedukes went in search of the registration tent to pick up her shirt, we investigated the pre-race party. Boomer Esiason and Carton from WFAN did the pre-race commentary. Armani Toomer was in the house. So was the Vince Lombardi Trophy! We just wanted a picture OF the trophy, but there were some baby prostitutes in the area that wanted to press their breasts against the glass that the trophy was housed in. Weird.

Auntiedukes met us by the trophy and we headed back to the start line to get into our heats. Small Fry and her friends were in an earlier heat than us because they're super star road runners or something like that whereas we're lazy. We stood sandwiched between a bunch of other slow people talking about what we were going to eat after the race.

This is us waiting for Boomer to blow the horn to start the race ("it's always a guarantee that you'll find a hot girl in a Brady jersey" - Carton):

We had expected the runners to disperse a bit once the race got underway. While the crowd did thin out a little, we were forced to run in a crowd for the entire 4 miles. In fact, the crowd is one of the primary reasons the three of us ended up getting separated. We lost Auntiedukes at the first water station and then lost each other at the water station at the third mile marker. For at least half a mile, Serena couldn't figure out why Lisa was running up her ass or why Lisa wouldn't respond to her commentary. Finally, she looked over her shoulder and noticed that Lisa was NOT running behind her at all. In fact, the chick wasn't even a Giants fan. By that point, it was so dark that she couldn't even see where Lisa might have been. That last half mile was a lonely, quiet one. Lisa got to enjoy a conversation between two girls about their other friend who was cheating on her husband. Lisa couldn't help but think at the third mile maker that if this race had been a 5K, she'd be done by this point.

 

There was one final hill between the third and fourth mile that was brutal. Serena didn't think she'd make it until one of the pathetic cheerleaders announced that "this was the worst of it. After this, it's a flat run." Thank god. Lisa had to slow down and thought to herself, "what could possibly be worse than this? A dragon swooping down to eat me?" But the woman was right. That really was the worst of it. After that hill, it was a straight shot. Eventually, the top of the Dakota came into view over the treetops and you knew the end was near. You could see the bright lights from the finish line and hear the DJ playing music. It was at this time that adrenaline kicked in and Serena picked up her pace, passing one runner after the other. When she made the final turn and actually had the finish line in her sights, she broke into a sprint, desperate to be done with it. As she crossed the finish line, her legs felt like jelly and she heard Carton announce, "wow, that was some finish." She tried to stop to catch her breath and wait for Lisa and Auntiedukes, but a woman kept yelling at her to keep moving. What the sh*t? Like this woman had done anything physical all night. She was just standing there.

 

Back on the course, Lisa could also hear the music and see the bright lights. She once again thought she saw Jesus coming to her aid. She started to choke. Her lungs began to collapse or at least felt like they were collapsing. She wanted to cry because the finish line was so close, but she couldn't cry because she couldn't breathe. She continued to search for Serena alongside the trail to slap her high-five, thinking that Serena had already finished the run. She weezed across the finish line with her eyes squeezed shut. She too was yelled at for stopping. Eventually, we met up at the food/Gatorade stand. We inhaled bagels and plums like Hoover vacuums. Like there's a f*cking surprise. Soon after, Auntiedukes joined us as well.

 

This is us doing our victory poses like jackasses:

This is our crew:

Serena ended up finishing the race at 44 minutes, Lisa at 48, and Auntiedukes at 53. The cross-country team finished it in 2 minutes.

 

The race proved that Serena still had shin splints in her left leg, so our racing season is officially over. Our next race that we plan on running is the Run for the Wild at the Bronx Zoo sometime in April. This means we have several months to continue doing what we do. Not training and sitting on our asses while we drink beer and eat wings. Stay tuned. You may have animal costumes in your future.

 

Onto this week's baseball notes:

Andy Pettitte is scheduled to make his return on Tuesday. Holy f*ck balls. Serena nearly wet herself with excitement. He's only allowed to throw 70 pitches, but hopefully his return rights the pitching ship as CC Sabathia's return has done absolutely nothing but baffle Tigers Love Pepper...oh...and the Yankees. But who really cares about the Yankees when compared to Serena's fantasy lineup? Tigers Love Pepper has a guaranteed playoff spot whereas the Yankees do not. F*ck them.

 

Oakland A's Coco Crisp rode the bench on Sunday due to pink eye. There are very few things that grosses us out more the pink eye. The A's Clubhouse should be quarantined. We're not even sure why he was allowed within 100 yards of the stadium. He's like an outbreak monkey. It's narsty.

 

Clayton Kershaw has been scratched from today's game against the Cardinals due to inflammation in his right hip. The pitcher is scheduled to be sidelined indefinitely and will be seeing a hip specialist in New York on Tuesday.

 

Naturally, The Intergenerationals are super heroes of the week. Coco Crisp is a-hole of the week because he's disgusting. Go team!

Georgia On Our Minds

We have to apologize for the nonsense that was last week’s blog. We’re not sure what got into us or why sausage was on the brain so heavily, but…well…here we are now. To make matters worse, we asked you what type of sausage YOU prefer. 6 of you prefer the Italian sausage (we like the Guineas too). 1 person enjoys the Spanish sausage and 1 other person likes the American sausage (also known as a hot dog). No one chose Polish sausage. Not sure what’s wrong with the Pollacks, but whatever. 8 votes is a lot. We’re somewhat impressed that you guys were interested enough in the sausage phenomenon to vote on it, but we’re really not all that surprised. You tend to vote on the stupidest sh*t. Heaven forbid you vote on a poll that actually has something to do with baseball.

In just a few short weeks, we’ll be departing for our Atlanta stadium tour. This trip will have a bit of a twist to it. Instead of staying in Atlanta, we’ll be crashing with Lisa’s family in Cleveland, Tennessee just a two hour drive from Atlanta. Since two hours is totally manageable, we’re hoping to make another side trip to Atlanta (in addition to the Braves game) to visit the Georgia Aquarium, which has been hailed as the largest aquarium in the country. Following the Braves game on Saturday afternoon, we’re going to check out a sexy place to eat. Any locals who have recommendations for us? We found a few options on the Google Machine, but it’s always nice to have the voice of a local offer suggestions.

While in Tennessee, Lisa’s family will be taking us to Ruby Falls where we’re seriously considering attempting to zip line. This will either be amazing or the hugest fail of our lives. It could go either way. Naturally, we will post pictures for you. We’ll probably be sporting a stink eye in every single photo. We apologize in advance. We did agree that Lisa will no longer take photos of Serena from behind as it is one of the worst angles of her in history. Going forward, Lisa will only take photos of Serena from the front. Even if she has to run ahead of Serena and turn around in order to do this. We briefly contemplated a trip to Graceland (you know how much we love Elvis), but it turns out that despite the fact that we’ll be in the same state as Graceland, it’s actually quite far of a drive. We apologize, but there’ll be no pictures of the Jungle Room for you. There will also be no video feed of our rendition of a “hunk of, hunk of, burning love.” We’re All Shook Up. Thank you. Thank you very much. Insert lip curl.

Exciting stuff is going down today. So exciting that Serena thought for a moment that we should cancel Mother’s Day so that we could stay home and watch the Yankees game. What could possibly be so exciting that we’d ditch the Celebration of Motherhood for? ANDY PETTITTE returns today! Serena’s “Big Texan” (as she says…he doesn’t really belong to her) is back! While she doesn’t expect him to pull a complete game shutout out of his ass, he definitely brings a sense of yogic calm to Serena…which ironically yoga does not do for her.

Lisa is somewhat annoyed with TOWSNBN today. On one hand, he’s been performing exceptionally well at the plate for the Mets. Which is a good thing. On the other hand, he’s playing for Lisa’s fantasy arch nemesis, The Riverdale Rebels (aka: Roberta). So now Lisa’s relationship with TOWSNBN is in a Mexican Standoff. TOWSNBN isn’t talking to Lisa because he thinks she’s a psychopath. Lisa isn’t talking to TOWSNBN because he’s helping Roberta win. Normally, Lisa would just switch to Derek Jeter, her new BFFer, but he ALSO plays on The Riverdale Rebels. Lisa has no backup plan for when both Golden Boys fail her.

Next week, we’ll be posting about our Yankees Stadium adventure that we’ll be embarking on Saturday afternoon. Serena promised Lisa Guido Fest 2012 (Fist Pumpers unite!) and Lisa has not ceased to remind Serena of this promise. As she says, “you made promises, daddy. Promises you better keep.” We suppose this means we’ll need to be at Yankees Stadium by 10 am for a 1:00 game. And there’s a very good chance that Serena will end up attending this game alone if everything goes according to Lisa’s plan.

Finally, Happy Mother’s Day to Mamadukes and Mama L.!! You’ve clearly birthed the best children ever. Just look at us. We’re special. Here’s to you, mom!

Yankees Opening Day 2012

April 13, 2012 

I have to start this post with a quasi-related, but not-really-related statement. When Lisa and I go to the Yankees game on May 19^th, I need to take her to Billy’s Bar. I’m pretty sure that I’ve discovered a guido dumping ground. Dark spiked haired, olive-skinned fist pumpers galore. It’s like a buffet of all of Lisa’s favorite things. It was a little scary. I am running the risk of losing her forever if I bring her here. She may get sucked into the black hole of tanned skin, Italian-themed tattoos, gold chains, and open-collared shirts and then I’ll be stuck walking over to Yankees Stadium and watching The Boys take on the Reds by myself. Anyone willing to travel into the Bronx with us on the very real chance that I may have an extra ticket? Let me know.

Back to the whole purpose of this post. Baseball. Opening Day. All good stuff. Mamadukes bought our tickets for Opening Day as my birthday gift, but the actual purchase was done by me. As in, “go onto StubHub and find tickets. I’ll give you the money.” I picked two tickets that felt like a happy medium in terms of cost and location, but I didn’t really have any idea as to where they were being that they were in a section I’d never sat in before. We drove into the game and parked at a nearby mall. “Event Parking” cost us $30, but for some reason, it felt less like a raping than paying $35 at the other lot. Getting to Yankees Stadium from this mall, however, proved to be a bit of a challenge for us. Initially, we followed these two guys wearing Jeter and Mantle jerseys toward the entrance we had just driven through, but then we realized that they were going to have to hop a wall in order to get to the sidewalk and that just seemed to be more trouble than it was worth. We decided to find another way. This would be a mistake. I don’t know what we were thinking. We should’ve just stuck to following Jeter and Mantle. They’d always been reliable in the past. Why did we think they were going to let us down this time? We ended up walking a sidewalk that ran somewhat parallel to the Major Deagan Expressway. That is some hot stuff right there. Eventually we did manage to reach the stadium and this random, off-the-beaten-path route actually had us approach the stadium from a direction we’d never taken before, offering me the opportunity to take this photo of the entire stadium in all its sexiness.

The walkway leading up to the stadium past the little league baseball field is paved with sporadic markers indicating historical moments in franchise history, like this:

This:

This:

And this:

We tried finding a marker celebrating Don Mattingly’s retirement, but apparently, nothing of importance happened for the Yankees between 1987 and 1996, which I found a little strange.

As usual, I needed to be fed immediately upon walking through the doors of Yankees Stadium. I need to eat regularly or else I become a whiny, unaccommodating toddler. We headed up to our section and bought a hot Italian sausage for me (Seriously. This is not a metaphor for a really attractive male of the Italian persuasion. It was called a hot Italian sausage and it cost $8.50.) and a hot dog for Mamadukes. Laden with our glorious, deliciously fragrant meat products, we went in search of this mysterious section 314W. It’s the “W” that kept throwing me off when I searched the stadium’s seating chart online. The chart clearly showed me section 314, but what was the deal with this “W?” Well, ladies and gentlemen, we found out that it apparently stands for “wheelchair.”  Yes. That’s correct. This Yankees fan half of the TBB duo is a giant a-hole who unknowingly purchased tickets to the handicapped section. As if I can’t look any more insensitive than I already do. The seats were padded folding chairs, which were pretty cool, but man, did we feel a touch guilty about occupying these seats. The guilt didn’t last long because my stomach got the better of me. I pretty much inhaled my sausage in three bites (okay, WHY does everything I say about sausages sound incredibly dirty?).

Look who ran into us at the stadium! Ed! Lisa’s favorite of Serena’s colleagues. Ed had seats 3 sections over from us.

There was one really amazing upside about sitting in these seats though. I got to hang out with this little buddy the entire game:

How amazing is he? He’s adorable and fat. I wanted to dognap him. The downside to this bootyful baseball fan was that his owner was a jerk Mets fan that kept rooting against the Yankees. Dude, go be miserable at your own Opening Day. Don’t make my Opening Day experience miserable because you hate my team.

Soon after, the opening ceremonies commenced.

Jorge Posada threw out the first pitch to Papa Posada.

The pitching matchup was Hiroki Kuroda and Ervin Santana. I’ll admit that this did not inspire confidence in me after watching the nightmare of a game that took place in Tampa Bay in the week prior. However, we got out of the first inning fairly unscathed, so I calmed down a bit. In the bottom of the 1^st, Santana led things off by striking out both Jeter and Granderson. Allow me to describe the mental illness that currently resides in this brain of mine. Instead of being overly pissed off at this, I got excited because Roberta’s ridiculous New York-focused fantasy team wouldn’t get any offensive points. Insert evil laugh. See? I’m truly a disturbed individual. With two outs, Alex Rodriguez (the one Yankees player that I managed to pry out of Roberta’s greedy fingers) singled. Hooray for fantasy points for Tigers Love Pepper! THEN he stole second. More fantasy points! It’s just an explosion of fantasy points for me.

When Mark Teixeira stepped into the batter’s box, our neighbors to Mamadukes’ right had some negative comments to say about him. She got very upset and defensive about “her man” (the fantasy baseball illness seems to be hereditary). I had to remind her that Tex was no longer her fantasy first baseman. Roberta owned him now. It was time to let go. With Rodriguez, Cano, and Tex on base, Swisher drilled a double over the center fielder’s head, scoring three runs. All fantasy points for Roberta. It’s just becoming tedious now.

Rodriguez would go onto hit a bomb of a home run to dead center field in the bottom of the 3^rd and another single in the bottom of the 5^th following a Granderson home run. While his sudden surge of offense pleases me both from the Yankees fan perspective and the perspective of being the manager for the future 2012 championship fantasy team, I feel it necessary to point out something that he did in the bottom of the 7^th that really pissed me off. I have always defended Rodriguez. Despite the fact that he’s got a personality that’s equivalent to a brown paper bag and the whole steroids fiasco, I do believe him to be a hard-working and gifted athlete. When he fails, it’s never from a lack of trying. Yes, he’s totally overpaid and yes, he tends to collapse when the Yankees really need him, but I will accept a player who fails to succeed if he puts forth genuine effort. In the 7^th, with Jeter on second, Rodriguez hit a weak dribbler to Ryan Isringhausen on the mound, which typically would’ve been an easy out, but Isringhausen bobbled the ball, giving Rodriguez the chance to safely reach first AND advancing Jeter to third. Instead of actually running hard down the line, Rodriguez did the f*cking Hustle! Naturally, this gave Isringhausen enough time to recover and throw Rodriguez out. I was enraged. If I recall the moment correctly, after a string of curse words, I shouted, “Did you have an asthma attack on the way to first, you a-hole?” Apparently the surrounding fans found this amusing. What the hell? I defend this man all the damn time for his work ethic and he repays me by acting like Carlos Beltran?? Trust me, I’ve played sports. I get that there was a chance that Rodriguez still may have been thrown out even if he ran hard. I totally understand that. The point is that he also might’ve been safe, giving the Yankees another chance to score. Crap like that makes me crazy.This better have been a brain fart on his part because if this is a sign of behavior to come, I’m going to convince Lisa to allow me to write another asstastic letter for this blog. And I’m very convincing. You have no idea how much stupid
sh*t I’ve convinced Lisa to participate in with me.

Just prior to the 9^th inning, we asked the nice men sitting next to us to take our picture. I’m actually surprised that Mamadukes allowed this considering how much she hates taking pictures. I think the fact that this man gave her his Cracker Jack prize softened her a little.

We were pleasantly surprised when Kuroda came out to pitch the 9^th having already thrown 103 pitches. He allowed Bobby Abreu on base with a weak a$$ crap hit and Joe Girardi pulled him out in favor of David Robertson. Kuroda exited to a standing ovation. A vast improvement from his first start. Now if only CC Sabathia would follow suit. Robertson closed out the game, coaxing Albert Pujols into a double play and then striking out Kendry Morales. Final score 5-0 Yankees.

By the way, exiting the mall’s parking garage was a nightmare. Do not park here. Make the extra $5 investment and park in a proper lot.

-Serena

What’s Your Fantasy?

Last week, Team Transformers rocked the house at the Workout for St. Jude’s charity event. To celebrate our success, we asked you who your favorite Transformer was. Apparently no one who reads this blog watched or cared about the Transformers because only two people voted. 1 person voted for Bumblebee (who happens to be Serena’s favorite) and the other person voted for Sideswipe. No one voted for Optimus (which we find a little bizarre considering he’s the Autobots’ head honcho) or Gears.

As spring training comes to a close, the news becomes less exciting. It’s no longer about who the up and coming fresh faces are or which veterans are looking for one more (or two more) good season(s). It’s now about who will start the season on the DL, who Opening Day pitchers are (CC Sabathia, duh. Like we needed an entire spring training to figure that one out), what teams’ finalized lineups look like, and who you drafted for your fantasy baseball team. Which brings us to today’s nonsense. Yes, another blog post in which we discuss Tigers Love Pepper. You know you love it. The good news, folks, is that Lisa took a puff off the pipe too. She’s now a fantasy-addicted a-hole. Her team name is The Asstastic Bunch (Couple’s Retreat, anyone?). Even better is that in our league’s first round, Tigers Love Pepper (team image is Alan,Stu, and Phil standing in the elevator after waking up following a night ofdebauchery. Alan is carrying Carlos) is playing The Asstastic Bunch (no team image as of yet). So far, we’re still friends. Would you like to hear our lineups? And pitching rotations? You’re getting it whether you say yes or no, so you might as well mentally prepare yourself with “yes.” Keep in mind this was an auto-draft. Meaning that we went to sleep Monday night after inhaling wings and woke up with a populated lineup on Tuesday morning.

The Asstastic Bunch’s Lineup:

JP Arencibia
Miguel Cabrera
Michael Cuddyer
Evan Longoria
Erick Aybar
Jacoby Ellsbury
Giancarlo Stanton
Desmond Jennings
Brett Lawrie
Eric Hosmer
David Ortiz
Lucas Duda
Ian Desmond
Matt Joyce

Lisa is on the fence about David Ortiz. For starters, she (like everyone else in New York unless you’re a moron who doesn’t know anything about baseball) hates him. Second of all, how much playing time is he really going to get? Third of all, can he still hit? Fourth of all, he’s fat. Fifth of all, he bedazzles everything and it’s just really hard to respect a man who owns a Bedazzler.

Tigers Love Pepper’s Lineup:

Joe Mauer
Ike Davis
Dustin Ackley
Alex Rodriguez
Jimmy Rollins
Shane Victorino
Melky Cabrera
Austin Jackson
Justin Morneau
Brennan Boesch
Jemile Weeks
Logan Morrison
Yadier Molina
Edwin Encarnacion

Serena will admit that she did not auto-draft Justin Morneau. She initially had Carl Crawford. While she realizes that she’s taking a risk with Morneau because he’s coming off back and head injuries, he’s been swinging the bat well lately and Crawford’s starting the season on the DL. She’d rather have a player give her the chance to get numbers than have a player who can’t do anything for her. If Morneau does well, it’s a win. If he doesn’t, she’ll drop him for someone else. No big loss.

TAB Pitching:

Felix Hernandez
Ian Kennedy
JJ Putz
Chris Sale
Yu Darvish
Gio Gonzalez
Shaun Marcum
Anibal Sanchez
Clay Buchholz

TLP Pitching:

Justin Verlander
Brandon McCarthy
Andrew Bailey
Jason Motte
CC Sabathia
Madison Baumgarner
Chris Perez
James Shields
Matt Cain

Mamadukes’ friend, Roberta (owner of Riverdale Rebels…also no team image) managed to draft the entire New York State, including Billy Joel. Something’s up here. We think she bribed Serena’s cousin, Joel, the league commish. Mamdukes drafted Timmy, which is deeply and profoundly upsetting to us because he is an Honorary Traveling Baseball Babe. One of us should’ve gotten him. Mamadukes claims she wanted Verlander and that she’d give up Timmy for Verlander, but that’s just ridiculous. Silly, Mamadukes. Everyone knows that Serena and Verlander are Taco Bell soulmates. They’re MFEO (Made For Each Other).

For the next two weeks, instead of a joint blog, you’ll be getting solo posts. Next week, you’ll have the privilege of reading about Lisa’s Mets Opening Day experience and the following week, you’ll get Serena’s Yankees Opening Day experience. Hope you don’t miss our joint buffoonery too much.

2012 Stadium Tour Planning

With the added Wild Card round going into effect this season, we asked if the new round would be good for baseball. 4 of you actually think that yes, it will be because “it’ll give the Pirates a chance to finally make the playoffs.” We disagree with you, which doesn’t really shock us. It seems that we’re never on the same page as you. And are you kidding us right now? The Pirates have an idiot for a starting pitcher who bunted his eye out. There’s no way they’re winning anything this year. 2 of you agree that “it’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard of.”

Our 2012 stadium tour trips are officially booked with the exception of a few slight details. Tickets have been purchased for the May 26^th Braves/Nationals game at Turner Field, July 27^th Blue Jays/Tigers game at Rogers Centre, and August 31^st Nationals/Cardinals game at Nationals Ballpark. Airfare has been booked for Toronto, but not Atlanta and at this time, we have no place to stay while in Toronto. Which might be awkward, but hopefully this problem is solved shortly. When we head down south to see the Braves, we’ll be staying with Lisa’s family and when we drive down to DC, we’ll be stealing Chris #1’s mustang convertible and re-enacting Aerosmith’s Crazy video. Can you guess which one of us is Liv Tyler and which one of us is Alicia Silverstone? Go on. Guess.

On the local front, Serena will be attending Yankees Opening Day courtesy of Mamadukes as part of her birthday celebration and Lisa will be attending Mets Opening Day with Bad Luck Laurie. Just like in past years, we’ll be reporting on these games separately in addition to our joint weekly blog. Lastly, while we haven’t picked which Mets game we’ll be going to (most likely with Auntiedukes as we promised her a visit to Citi Field), we’ll be attending the May 19^th Yankees game against the Reds. You might be wondering why we chose the Reds game. Usually, we pick the Twins (Justin Morneau and Joe Mauer), the A’s (to make fun of certain players), or the Red Sox (when we’re in the mood to be miserable). Trust us when we say that there was a method to the madness with this one. It started off with Serena checking the promotional schedule. May 19^th is Cap Day. Serena also noticed on her calendar that May 19^th is Armed Forces Day. This naturally got her thinking. They’ll be sexy men in uniform at this game. Even better, the caps will probably be army-themed. She always wanted a Yankees army-camo hat. This highly intelligent way of strategizing was all she needed to convince Lisa to join her on her quest. Lisa had no idea who the opponent was. The fact that Joey Votto is the Reds’ first baseman is just a bonus for her.

Additional news about the 2012 season is that Tigers Love Pepper is back in action. You’re thrilled, we can tell. Lisa is that’s for sure. Another season of Serena sending Lisa random, panicked texts about needing her to login to Serena’s Yahoo account to update her pitching staff while she’s at work...or at Target. Another season of Serena complaining about pitchers not going deep into games and batters not putting up quality offensive stats…none of these players actually playing for the Yankees. Another season of Serena dominating entire conversations discussing a team that doesn’t actually exist…kind of like The Avengers or The Justice League. Yup. Lisa’s thrilled.

Sorry that there are no baseball notes to report on this week. There was literally nothing that we found interesting. However, what may interest you is the fact that we’ll be going to Atlantic City for two nights this week with Jess to celebrate Serena’s birthday. There’ll be suits, cigars, scotch, other assorted booze-related items, gambling, and hopefully, lots of guido fist pumping. The guido fist pumping is more for Lisa. Serena’s hoping that they find a laser tag place that’s open late so that we can play drunk and suited-up laser tag, truly channeling the great Barney Stinson. This compels us to remind you (and most importantly, us) of the few tidbits we learned during our first visit to Foxwoods because as we all know, Lisa is bound to gamble our gas money away on a Village People slot machine.

“On the road again. We can’t wait to get on the road again. The life we love is traveling to baseball stadiums with each other.

Tigers Love Pepper

You’re probably wondering where I am taking you with today’s blog based on the title. Am I really going to be spending an entire blog post discussing the finer points of Alan’s theory that “tigers love pepper. They hate cinnamon?” No, though I probably could if I really thought about it. Oh…and by the way, in case you couldn’t tell, you’re only getting me today since Lisa is on vacation in Miami with Nicole, Fred K’s Cancer, Inc.’s Director of Operations (or something like that…I always forget what her real title is). Since Lisa isn’t here, there’s no one to restrain my bad behavior. I apologize in advance.

Before we discuss the meat and potatoes of this post, I must cover last week’s poll results. With the departure of Carlos Beltran, we asked if you felt that Beltran would be an asset to the Giants. No one voted for, “my right butt cheek would be more of an asset to the Giants than Beltran.” 3 of you voted for, “were they looking for something to decorate the outfield with? Then yes.” This is interesting because both options were designed to insult Beltran, so technically, even a true Beltran fan would be selecting an option that degraded him…which is exactly how we like it. On Thursday night, Lisa and I attended the dinner reception of the 8^th Annual Sean Kimerling Testicular Cancer Celebrity Golf Outing. At a charity event, I managed to get into a somewhat loud debate at the bar (shocker, right?) with a nice man named Andrew over Beltran’s attributes…or lack thereof. We eventually parted ways, agreeing to disagree because everyone’s opinion counts and all that junk, but let’s be real. I was right.

Onto the real purpose of today’s post: Tigers Love Pepper. As you may recall from previous posts, Tigers Love Pepper is the name of my fantasy baseball team. Now, I’m not going to sit here and babble for several pages about the inner workings of my fake baseball team (though I’m confident that if it existed in real life, my pitching staff would carry my team into the World Series and crush the opposition. Unlike Cliff Lee’s bull sh*t pre-season bragging, my staff actually WOULD be legendary). I want to talk about why playing fantasy baseball should be relegated to individuals who actually know nothing and/or care nothing for the sport of baseball.

All of you major baseball followers are probably outraged by that statement, but hear me out. I am thrilled to report that the Phillies have officially activated Roy Oswalt from the disabled list yesterday and he’ll be making his first start in six weeks against Tim Lincecum today. Why would I give a sh*t about this? I care nothing for the Phillies and their position in the standings, I dislike several players on the Phillies’ roster, and while I think Oswalt is a fine pitcher (fine meaning talented, people), his performances has absolutely no meaning on the American League side of things. Here’s why: I made a gamble on Thursday afternoon and picked Oswalt up while he was still listed on the DL in hopes that he’d return and dominate the crap out of everyone he faces for the remainder of the season. Now…I love Lincecum. Adore him. If I could, I’d keep him on my bed all day and cuddle with him at night. I’d trade Lisa for him and I am pretty confident she’d understand and be okay with it if I did. I ranked him as one of my top 5 players in my fantasy draft and unfortunately didn’t get him. The TBB have even named August 14^th as Tim Lincecum Appreciation Day. The only way I could love Lincecum more is if he were traded to the Yankees. That being said, I want Oswalt to wipe the f*cking floor with the Giants’ lineup today. I’m not asking for Lincecum to suffer the ultimate collapse. I just need Oswalt to one-up him. Perhaps pitch a complete game and help bring my strikeout total for the week near the 80 mark. I apologize to the Bay Area fans that our blog has, but this is why I should not be allowed to play fantasy sports. My priorities are completely out of whack.

Need additional examples? I was outraged to find out that Ryan Madson was listed as “NA” on my roster because he went on paternity leave to be with his wife and new baby. What the hell? Like he pushed the kid out of his vagina and needed a friggin’ break! Sure, you could argue the point that the man has every right to be with his family and newborn child during such an important time, but screw that! If he wanted to spend more time with his family, he should’ve become CPA and not a professional athlete. Thanks to his selfishness, my relief pitching rested entirely on Andrew Bailey. Can you see how this mindset is not normal?

Let’s try a few weeks ago when while blogging, Lisa and I watched the Mets play the Phillies. The Mets were actually making a comeback. Under typical circumstances, I’d be right alongside Lisa rooting for the Mets. What actually happened? Madson had loaded the bases and allowed this rally to occur. I was irate. The fool was ruining my overall ERA. Lisa could only watch me in horror as I paced in front of the television and demanded that Charlie Manuel remove the a$$ clown from the game before my ERA spiraled out of control. If the Mets were going to rally, why couldn’t they do it against some other jack-a-loon in the Phillies’ bull pen! Why did it have to be MY jack-a-loon??

When I wake up in the morning, check my lineup, and see that Justin Verlander’s pitching, I immediately believe that the day will be a good one. There’s an instant pep in my step and a smile on my face as if Verlander is legitimately all mine and that he actually has some affect on my day-to-day life. He doesn’t even pitch for the Yankees!!!

This is why I believe people who are utterly clueless or have little to no investment in the game should participate in fantasy baseball. If you have zero concept as to how wonderful Lincecum is, are you going to feel a tad guilty for wishing horrible run support on him? No! You’re just going to be pleased at the luck of finding someone as talented as Roy Oswalt this late in the season! If you haven’t the misfortune of being loyal to a particular team (like the Mets), are you really going to be torn by the fact that your fantasy pitcher, Cole Hamels just steamrolled the Mets? No way. You’re thrilled that Hamels tacked up a bunch of strikeouts on your behalf and lowered your overall ERA and WHIP. Fantasy baseball is an unhealthy activity for the passionate fan.

Alright, that’s enough. I have to go check on my lineup to make sure it’s all up to date for today’s games. I don’t have any more time to waste entertaining you folks, but don’t worry. Blogging returns to normal next Sunday as Lisa will be back by then and of course, the day we’ve all been waiting for: Tim Lincecum Appreciation Day!

My Super Hero of the Week is Harrison Ford and Daniel Craig from Cowboys and Aliens, not because it was an outstanding movie (it was good enough, but didn't blow me away), but because the movie starred both Indiana Jones and James Bond. Golden.

-Serena