Via Chicago

(I’m writing quickly, so bear with me…)

I’m waiting for my ride to get out of the shower before heading to Logan. I’m heading back to Chicago for a week for my Dad’s 60th birthday. I waited to pack until this morning because I had clothes in the dryer last night, and, at 12:30, I was beat and needed to get to sleep. I woke up before 6am to fish the remnants of my socks and jocks out and to pack.

I usually find packing in the morning before a flight stressful. There’s a preset amount of time you have before you need to be at the airport. Getting up early sucks, and you don’t have a choice about it.

On the plus side, I didn’t spend the night agonizing over whether or not I packed something. I didn’t wake up once and think, ‘Oh shit, did I remember to pack my maroon golf shirt?’ Well, shucks, I don’t have time to think about that because I’ve got to cram everything I have into a bag and rush out the door. And, I don’t have a maroon golf shirt.

It’s going to be a quick spectacles, testicles, watch, wallet and I’ll be out the door in ten minutes.

Maybe this morning packing business isn’t so bad.

Wilco on Saturday Night Live

Yeah, I haven’t watched Saturday Night Live regularly in years either. But this past Saturday, Jeff, Glen and the rest of the Wilco boys made an appearance as the musical guest. I was interested enough to at least give it a look. Their version of “Walken” was good, but not nearly as inspired as Jeff Tweedy’s suit.

Man, some guys have everything: musical ability and excellent taste in clothing.

Editor’s Note: In the time it took me to get that video posted it was pulled from YouTube. The suit was glorious, though. Trust me.

A Whole Lot of Bad Balls

I was poking around the Cubs’ website earlier to get my fix of Spring Training news. The most noteworthy news item involved Alfonso Soriano and his finger. The Cubs left fielder fractured the tip of a finger catching a routine flyball near the wall. He’s expected to be out three to five days.

The slender leadoff man said, via Cubs.com, “‘It’s OK – three, four days. I’ll be back.’”

I agree with The Goat Riders of the Apocalypse on this one, and I’m not too worried. The black cloud that floats (or maybe I should say “Goats”) over the Cubs’ heads would normally dictate that Soriano be shelved for three to five months. Amazingly, he’ll be back on the field soon. In the meanwhile, give the man a couple of days off to keep his legs fresh.

The end of the article gives a round up of the other nagging — and frankly, odd — injuries around camp:

“The Cubs have had a variety of injuries this spring. So far, infielder Mark DeRosa was hospitalized with an irregular heartbeat, pitcher Jose Ascanio had a bruised face after getting punched in a robbery attempt, and outfielder Felix Pie missed a couple of days early because of a twisted testicle. Third baseman Aramis Ramirez remains sidelined with a sore right shoulder.”

Sorry. Felix Pie did what? He missed a few days due to a “twisted testicle”?

Uh, ouch.

Notice how that nugget of injury news was nestled between the other weirdness that’s been going on at Cubs camp? Carrie Muskrat is so sly.

But more to the point, what exactly is a twisted testicle? I mean, I can imagine what it is, but how do you do that? I’ve had a sack swinging proudly for more than 25 years. It has, at various times, been kicked, exposed, punched, racked on a bicycle frame and rubbed vigorously (wink wink). It’s been twisted a little bit, but, like a swing at a playground, it always spins back around to face the right direction.

So how do you twist a teste? Shouldn’t it be a package deal? Did Pie get too close to the washing machine while it was in spin mode? Was he riding the merry-go-round too enthusiastically? Has the man got a fetish for tops?

I hope, for the sake of all the future Pie’s, the ball looks like a four seam fastball instead of a sweeping hook from a junk-throwing lefty.

Incredibly, this isn’t the first twig-and-berries related injury from the Cubs, it’s just the latest. Have you forgotten the 2006 season when Michael Barrett made every man in the world cringe and introduced the phrase “intrascrotal hematoma” to the common nomenclature?

I still haven’t.