Ray Matter

One of my favorite little moments from yesterday involved, of course, Joe Schultz. The LED has been partly corrupted by the corporate whorage of the world, so now you get your DET/CWS score alongside some kind words from metroPCS telling you that you have permission to speak freely. So I click up the metroPCS graphic, and Schultz turns to me with a look of disgust and says: "What Is That?"

Good story, I know.

I think he was genuinely mad. I, for one, would rather know Melvin Mora's OPS and BB.

But we must make money.

Anyway, so yesterday was our lovely home opener, which was greeted with more anticipation than, say, Palm Sunday. Also possibly Christmas. The raucous fans (the ones without jobs, apparently) turned out at 4pm to shake hands with Julio Lugo and obtain Stu S1enberg's autograph (look mommy, an investment banker!) before settling into a pregame of sweetness that involved (I've never seen this before) a flag shaped like the continental United States. Steve pointed out that Florida looked rather phallic, and I was disappointed that there didn't appear to be any sort of shape resembling Michigan (perhaps it temporarily became part of Canada).

The Rays lost in undramatic fashion, held hitless until the 4th inning and pretty much generally beaten on by a lame Orioles team that's mired in muckity muck.

Speaking of which:

Yankees/White Sox/A's/Red Sox (wild card)
Braves/Cardinals/Dodgers/Astros (wild card)

World Series: White Sox vs. Braves

So there's that.

The last seven days have been zelda-like insane, all leading up to the magical oh so magical April 10. Now there are 80 games to go before people start counting down the days until the next Opening Day. Baseball makes no sense. It's unpredictable, it's slow, it's bloated, and everyone loves it. Go Tigers.