It’s a dark, dark day in Boston. Beloved Red Sox center fielder Johnny Damon has signed a deal with, of all possible teams, the New York Yankees. What a slap in the face. As a native of Boston who no longer follows baseball here in Los Angeles (nothing personal, Dodgers), my sympathies are with my hometown. I feel your pain, Boston. Have a Sammy, on me.
Now, while I am still loyal to the Red Sox (although I don’t follow them religiously), I did convert to Laker fandom after my move here. To top it off, I married into a Laker family – not in the sense that anyone in the family either plays or works for the Lakers in even the remotest capacity, but in the sense that they are fans in the true sense of the word; that is to say, almost fanatical in their devotion. While I still harbor some fondness for Shaq despite his move to Miami -- and for Robert Horry, the best clutch player in the league, despite his move to San Antonio -- my mother-in-law (formerly a huge fan) loves to hate him. And she will argue with me about why I should hate him. But let’s not get into that.
My point, and I do have one, is: hey, Kobe! Career-high 62 points last night! You are the bizzomb!
Here’s a twist on the War on Christmas: some Christian churches refuse to observe it. Suddenly, I feel all paganly and shit.