I'm sitting here, poring over the contract status of everyone on the Sox' roster, when a thought crosses my mind:
Stunning as that thought was, given our checkered past together, the next thought was about a thousand times more stunning:
This is an about-face worthy of the WWE. If I were to go back in time to 2002 and tell my earlier self that I'd seriously considered buying a Tim Wakefield jersey, it would probably cause one of those rifts in the space-time continuum that Doc Brown was so preoccupied with. I'd be all like "AAAAAAAAA" and then weird awful shit would start happening... I'd get shot (not fatally, just painfully) by the D.C. Sniper, the Sox would lose Game 7 in 2004, Frank Rusch would fall down a well while picking mushrooms and touch off a nationwide vigil, and so forth.
If Tim Wakefield's indefinite rolling option were turned down and he retired, but then later un-retired and joined another team, I'd want to go cheer him on in B-more or DC if he came through...
Stunning as that thought was, given our checkered past together, the next thought was about a thousand times more stunning:
...but I'd want to get myself a Wakefield jersey.
This is an about-face worthy of the WWE. If I were to go back in time to 2002 and tell my earlier self that I'd seriously considered buying a Tim Wakefield jersey, it would probably cause one of those rifts in the space-time continuum that Doc Brown was so preoccupied with. I'd be all like "AAAAAAAAA" and then weird awful shit would start happening... I'd get shot (not fatally, just painfully) by the D.C. Sniper, the Sox would lose Game 7 in 2004, Frank Rusch would fall down a well while picking mushrooms and touch off a nationwide vigil, and so forth.
posted by Jeff at
6:15 PM
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