|Between the lines
and in the showers
Bostons only catty sports column
Friends of mine know that there is nothing I hate more than authority. Stick it to the man, is what I say. Stick it to the man, any chance you get. But I must say that I was quite perturbed or as my friend Charles would say, discomposed when I read Antoine Walkers verbal display of bratty, "Im an All-Star" fireworks in the Globe recently.
So, the king of the shoulder-shake made it to the All-Star game and now he thinks he doesnt have to sweat? Ill bet our Italian savior (thats Mr. Pitino in case youre wondering) will be whupping his million-dollar gluteus maximus with more than words when camp really starts.
Ooooooh that Antoine thing just absolutely exhausted me. Somebody get me a multivitamin!
Looks like the Red Sox are winning, err, losing again. I say do this: dont pay attention until October. By that point the leaves will have turned and there will be brighter things in Red to look at.
I was sadder than a dusty apricot when I heard that the Harvard-gym-rat-turned-pro-ballplayer broke her foot less than a month into her pro career. As a new member of the dazzling L.A. Sparks, Allison Feaster was poised to shed the sloppy chains of Ivy-league roundball for the spectacle that is now the WNBA. One second she is the best college girl in the nation and then the poor girl just snaps her foot like so many dry, brittle pretzels.
I think Ill mail her an ice pack and a big tin filled with love.
Sing it girls! Let your hair down and play ball!
You ladies didnt hear this from me but my friend, Salsa Joe, who tends bar at Jacques on Tuesday nights (which, to this humble columnist, is the only good night to go) said that he saw a certain local ballplayer doing his best Diana Ross on stage. I can see why youd need to cut loose once in a while. That upper echelon Red Sox management is wound so, so tight! Hmmm, meow, purr. Let the music play, ladies!
Heaven knows I hate the bourgeois and the bland more than anything, but here is a tip for all you guys and gals that like to swing a stick (thats golf lingo, you sickos). Turn your hips. There, Ive said it.
Phew! Im exhausted. Everyone knows that the distance and power comes from the hips (Im still talking about golf, you horny sea captains!) Until next time ...