I know I’m in the minority here, but I feel I need to say it: I think World Series rings are ugly. The whole idea is perfectly nice and I understand the symbolic importance and the ceremony was lovely… but the actual rings are pretty much the tackiest kind of jewelry Snooki and Sears could have dreamed up. It’ s like what they sell at Claire’s, except the target demographic is not pre-teen girls who like earrings with watermelons (WATERMELONS, peope) on them and they’re, um, covered in diamonds. So presumably they have a slightly higher retail value. Still, terribly ugly, if you ask me.
Let me put it this way: I would not let Bruce Bochy go near the design ideas for my bath rug, as much adoration as I have for him. He helped design the rings. Go figure.
Anyhow, I’ll stop sticking my foot in my mouth now. The game was on the ugly side, too. I think the Cardinals were probably pretty sick and tired of all the ceremonies and they channeled it into their baseball-ing. They shelled Cain for nine runs in the fourth inning and ended up winning 14-3. In a bright moment, Angel Pagan did hit a booming triple but he was left stranded, which kind of took away from the boomingness.
I’ve heard talks about a few people’s slow starts, but I think it’s really still too early to call them slow starts. Like, slow first five seconds would maybe be more appropriate?
I was sitting outside in my garden today and suddenly looked up to see a cat sitting about ten feet away and staring straight at me, completely still. I assume this means I’m destined for an imminent and terrible death, so if I don’t blog again, hugs and kisses, you guys were great.
So, look. I’ve never been Olive Garden. I’m maybe just a little bit (a little bit?) snobby about food, although I don’t eat samples at the little gourmet stands in the grocery store anymore because of a sort of unfortunate incident with this lady who explained why grapeseed oil is so much better than olive oil so I was like, okay, I’ll taste it. And it came in this strange little ramekin with grapeseed oil and bread and… a piece of paper. I just ignored the piece of paper, but apparently that’ s not how it’s done?
I learned this the hard way.
Anyway, the point of this is just to say that I understand the wrong end of food snobbery. I’ve experienced it. Been scarred by it, even. So while all the San Franciscans went crazy when the baby giraffe guy said his favorite restaurant is Olive Garden I sort of thought, eh, whatever.
Since then, my feelings have changed.
Olive Garden sounds magical and I am not being sarcastic when I say that. I’m kinda sorta extremely tempted to go there because I’m picturing unicorns – maybe it’s Zeets’ favorite restaurant too! – and enchanted forests and food that will make your dreams come true and things like that.
Or maybe I read too much terrible teen fiction?
Happy home opener, everyone!
Came across this picture of me in the cheap seats with my cinnamon roasted walnuts. When is the home opener again?
I mean, baseball’s great and all. But I want some cinnamon roasted walnuts.
I like all cinnamon things, actually. Also, I seem to have cut my hair sometime in between the time these two pictures were taken.
Ladies and gentlemen, Opening Day:
(Via @CarmenKiew on Twitter.)
It wasn’t exactly the Opening Day we were all hoping for, but it was OPENING DAY so that pretty much made up for it, at least to me. The Giants opened against Clayton Kershaw and those Los Angeles Dodgers and Kershaw was very Superman-y and pitched a shutout and also hit a homerun – the first of his career – to break the scoreless tie.
Oh, did I forget to mention that he helped build an orphanage in Zambia in the offseason?
Seriously, though, Kershaw is good stuff to watch and the rivalry is more fun when both teams are doing well and all that. Which is to say, the Giants have to do well too. But they have 161 more games to do that, so Mayans, back off. And they’ll probably only face Kershaw a few more times, so that’s good news.
Baseball is back and just in time for April Fool’s Day, no less. I’d don’t mean to be antagonistic, Bud Selig, seeing as this is a new season with a clean slate between us (right?) but that was sort of bad planning on your part. Like, maybe if there were fewer Interleague Play games we could have started the season on a day other than Annual Prank Unsuspecting Emilys Day?
Forget it. Antagonistic it is.
Okay, it’s the annual anti-predictions post! (I’ve never actually done it before, but I did make Hank Schulman do it last year. So it’s annual starting now.) Anti-predictions, in case you’re unfamiliar, are the who-will-finish-in-last-place predictions, aka the which-GM-is-spending-the-offseason-not-on-vacay-in-the-Bahamas predictions. Without further ado…
AL East – Boston Red Sox
AL Central – Kansas City Royals
AL West – Anaheim Angels (you heard me right, dead last)
NL East – Miami Marlins
NL Central – Chicago Cubs (sorry, Theo, but you predicted the lean years yourself)
NL West – San Diego Padres
I don’t have any magic anti-prediction formula, although looking over these, I do realize a number of these teams finished second to last this past season. So I’m mostly just here to crush their fans dreams of a brighter future. It’s all downhill from here, you know, and all that.
What are your anti-predictions, people? If you leave them in the comments I will give you absolutely nothing, but you should do it all the same.