Monday Morning Brain Fart - 11/2: Tuesday Edition

My apologies for the lack of Farting (blogly speaking of course, my roommates would attest to literal farting occurring) yesterday, but I was mucho busy. So instead of just delving into our past weekend, we'll delve into our past weekend with an added sprinkling of Monday night flavor to satisfy your palettes.

Saturday was Halloween as you all know, so the woman and I ventured off to some yonder bar in New York City for a good ol' fashioned Halloween hoe down. I was Plaxico Burress, immediately following his infamous incident at the Latin Quarter last November. I had my Burress jersey (one of the worst purchases ever) on, gigantic sweatpants with a ton of blood on the left leg, icy whites, and a visor angled to the side. It was GANGSTA. My beau was that annoying chick from the Progressive commercials, but I have to give her a credit for a job well done. The costume was awesome.

We attended the festivities with the Unabomber, Carmen Sandiego, Aldes Snow, Wonder Woman, Superman, "Freddy Sez" (Yankee fans know who I speak of), and Mugatu. Adding to the great times was the big Yankees win in Game 3 of the World Series, as the Yanks beat up on Cole Hamels, who has since given up on this season. A-Rod's homer off of the camera in right field sparked the rally, and Andy Pettitte pitched wonderfully after settling down following a rocky 2nd inning. Good times!

Sunday brought us another day of sports-related stress, though we were not faced with the obstacle of watching 2 games at one time on this occasion. But first, a random thought on a popular food:

While watching a Taco Bell commercial, I began to ponder the assembly of your basic, everyday taco, and I decided that the usual formula for success in taco construction is inherently flawed. When you are presented with a typical hard-shell taco, the layers of taco ingredients are as follows, from the bottom of the shell up: meat, sauce/salsa, lettuce, tomato, cheese. The problem here is that when you take a bite, you are not able to sample each and every flavor. You're either biting near the bottom, in which case you are tasting mostly meat and some sauce, or you're biting near the top, in which case you are tasting mostly vegetables and cheese. It's a problem that I think needs to have some attention brought to it. When you bite into a taco, you want all of flavors together, combining to form an orchestra of taco-deliciousness performing Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 in your mouth. Alas, this does not happen. And so I propose 2 solutions:

1) Always stick with the soft tacos, either at Taco Bell, or whatever other taco establishment/kitchen you are receiving your taco treat from. It's make-up is more predisposed to having all of the flavors combine into one bite due to it's soft, rolled nature.

2) Taco ingredients need to be mixed before being deposited into the hard shell. If you take the meat, sauce, cheese, lettuce and tomato, put them into a bowl and mix them up, and then place them into the shell, you will have made a taco that provides excitement, joy, and most of all, every flavor in each bite you take. It's an added, effortless step that will make the taco-eating experience that much more enjoyable.

Now back to our stressful Sunday, and we begin with the Giants. They are pathetic. They are an embarrassment. Words cannot describe how frustrating it was to watch them against the hated Eagles. We'll start with the offense. Eli is starting to look like the Eli of old. He missed some wide-open throws, and on the throws he did get to his receivers, he was hanging them out to dry so they could get killed (see: Boss, Kevin). Plus, he seems to feel the need to call an audible on every play, sometimes doing so with only 3 or 4 seconds left on the play clock, at which time everyone is panicking and no one knows what they're doing. It's sloppy, at best. I also think we need a new offensive coordinator. Kevin Gilbride is too stubborn. We call the same 6 plays all of the time, and when it was obvious that Brandon Jacobs was running tough and we needed to keep feeding him the ball, we kept to the air anyway, leading to 3-and-outs and some terrible interceptions. It's atrocious football.

As for the defense, they're not much better. Our vaunted defensive line can't put any pressure on the passer by themselves, but our defensive coordinator, Bill Sheridan, refuses to blitz. So because we don't get any pressure, our defensive backs have to cover the receivers forever, which always ends badly. Actually, it's going to end badly anyway, because we still have C.C. Brown on our team. HE SUCKS. He is the worst safety I have ever seen in coverage, hands down. He couldn't cover my little sister at this point. The loss of Kenny Phillips for the year is proving to be even more difficult to overcome than losing Osi Umenyiora was last year. At least last year we had a competent defensive coordinator who knew how to get to the quarterback. Sheridan is looking more and more like a mistake as we go along in this season. Right now, I find it difficult to say we'll make the playoffs. We started 5-0, and we may not go to the playoffs. Unbelievable. Oh yeah, Lawrence Tynes missed another kick.

**Steve stabs himself in the eye and dies. The rest of this blog was typed by him post-mortem**

Luckily for us, we had White Mana and the Yankees to assuage our pain on Sunday. I'll get a little deeper into the glory that is White Mana at a later time, but let me just say here that it is phenomenally delicious. The burgers are perhaps as close to perfection as you can get. (drooling...) Oof! Anyway, on to the Yankees. C.C. was going on short rest against Joe Blanton, so you would have expected them to win Game 4, which of course they did, albeit in dramatic fashion. They had a 4-3 lead in the bottom of the 8th, and Joba was in, looking like the Joba we all know and love. He had his explosive fastball and his unfair slider, and easily got through the first two batters. But then he grooved a fastball and Pedro Feliz took him out of the yard to tie the game at 4. Hopefully that homer doesn't get to him because he looked really good, and we're going to need him going forward in this series. Then in the top of the 9th, the all-to-familiar script of Brad Lidge blowing the game was re-hashed, with Johnny Damon beginning the dramatic reading. His double steal with 2 outs to get to third is the kind of play that will go down in Yankees history should they win the Series. His presence on 3rd made Lidge go away from his slider for fear of putting it in the dirt, so fastball after fastball was delivered, with A-Rod and Jorge duly obliging him with base hits to give the Yanks the lead that Mo would secure in the bottom of the 9th. The Yanks had a 3-1 Series lead, and the day was redeemed!

Now on to my thoughts about something that happened Monday night - a first for the Monday Morning Brain Fart! Mainly because it's supposed to go up in the morning... on Monday..... I suck. Anyway, the Phillies were able to get one game back in the Series and send it to Game 6 at Yankee Stadium tomorrow night, thanks is large part to the dubious pitching performances of AJ Burnett and Phil Coke. Burnett blew up in the worst way possible, but afterwards, David Robertson and Alfredo Aceves did a good job of keeping the Phils off the board and the Yankees in the game. Then in came Phil Coke, who promptly gave up 2 home runs to Chase Utley (who needs to stop owning the Yankees so they stop showing his repulsive hair) and Raul Ibanez to make it 8-2 Phillies. Of course the Yankees then figured out Cliff Lee and put some runs on the board, but it was too little too late once Derek Jeter grounded into the double play with 1st and 3rd and no outs in the top of the 9th. Damn you Phil Coke!

Ugh. Another week of work. But at least it's almost Wednesday...