Tim Moungey and the Octopus League

[Jestor]

Evening. The black velvet canopy patterned with white diamonds.

White. Black. Contrasts. Let us bring Red into the picture as well, for Red is frequently involved.

White.

The colour of purity and beauty. Yet also a hue of fragility, of sickness. Is it then the most beautiful and pure thing to be sick and frail instead of healthy and hale? Women of white hands, weak, yet loved for their loveliness.

Black.

Death and strength. Disease and contagion. Too much white eventually leads to the ebony? The flush of a minor affliction grown to a bloated and beastly corpse. Yet, there is a certain allure in its power and domination.

Red.

Passion and blood. Love and martyrdom. The most violent and unstable of these three, but also the most compelling. Indeed, it is those tales steeped in the ferocity of this shade that most affect us, most colour our dreams and shape our destinies.

See the world in black and white only and your road will be a rigid one. Life needs red (Is it any surprise that blood is red) to do more than exist as an automaton.

Colour your universe solely in red and black and your life shall be short, tragic, and full of melancholy and despair. Yet, many are those who names are legendary by way of knowing not the white. E.A. Poe, we salute you.

Do people who see only the white and the red exist past the age of, oh, say, twenty-one? These are the idealists, the dreamers who refuse to allow the banshee of black to diminish their land of enchantment. ...Yet it is they, by their very dismissal of that onyx rogue, who are most prone to disillusion when that raven marauder strikes too close to home... If they are not fortunate enough to die young and leave a legacy of light, they will eventually be overtaken by the pursuing avenger and be plunged into the drab world of black and white... the solitary, diametrically opposed colours made all the sharper in their contrast by virtue of Red's vanquished state.

Which of these am I? I must say that all three are in my life, though the portrait of my existence is largely done up in vehement crimson framed by the pathos of brooding obsidian. The aspects of white, you ask? Largely in the weakness of my body and the timidity of my personality.

Timid Tim. A fitting alliteration.

Bed summons me. Tomorrow, another game we play.

[Jestor]

Well, I just lost the writeup for an entire ****ing game because the god damn ****ing browser button hit back on me for some screwed up reason. Oh, and the real kicker? I was just about to hit Submit when it wonked out on me.

Heh, anyway, it was an 8-3 massacre that I don't want to rewrite or even talk about.

Chapa's ass will be gone.

[Jestor]

Still enraged over our loss, I inform the team that I'm retiring to my room for the evening and that Krista had best not be sent to check up on me or heads will roll.

So I'm now sitting before my laptop, staring numbly at the day's scores

Sunday June 5, 2004

Racine 3
New Orleans

WP: Ernest Styers (1-0)
LP: Cristian Chapa (0-3)

Another horrible outing by Chapa, who was lit up for 7 runs, all earned, over 6 innings. Also critical to the Secrets' loss was a costly error by 3B Evelio Olivares. The turning point came in the 5th inning when DH Ovidio "Suave" Rico hit a 2 RBI double to break a 2-2 tie. From that point on, it was all Mardi Gras.

Boston 1
Minneapolis 4

WP: Alvin Garcia (2-2)
LP: Gabriel Parras (0-2)
S: Andrew Sharon (3)

Despite pitching a complete game and striking out 8 while walking 0, Parras takes the loss in this one, largely due to Lumberjacks LF Daniel Hayes's 2 run homer in the 1st inning.

Miami 2
San Diego 3

WP: Michael Robichaud (2-1)
LP: Juan Alustiza (0-1)

A thrilling 14 inning marathon that was a fitting conclusion to the matchup that many view as the likely River Series championship battle, the victory came for the Bishops in the bottom of the 14th inning with 2B Bryan Prioleau's solo shot.

Memphis 4
Seattle 3

WP: Gary Yusuke (1-2)
LP: Jesus Loera (1-1)
S: Felix Cuestas (1)

Jesus was nailed for 3 runs in the 9th inning, capping a Rebels rally that gave Memphis ace Yusuke his first win. Gary pitched 8 innings, giving up 3 earned runs and 3 walks against 5 strikeouts. Cuestas was flawless in the bottom of the 9th, striking out 2 and inducing a groundout to ensure no Coffeemen on base.


***End E-mail***

I'm still pissed about that loss.

[Jestor]

Secrets Engineer First Three-Way Trade In Octopus League History

Racine Secrets GM/Manager Tim Moungey was at it again last night, working the phone lines until he'd made a trade with not one, but two teams. That's right OL fans, the league's fastest trigger-man has spearheaded the first three-team-trade. Here's the details:

Going to Racine:
MR Pierre Mercurio

Going to Minneapolis:
DH Steven Hooper

Going to Miami:
SP Cristian Chapa

In essence, what the trade diagram boils down to is this: Racine ships Chapa to Miami for Hooper, then turns around and sends Hooper to Minneapolis to bring back former Secret and goat Mercurio.

Squidly Sam's Trade Analysis:

Boy, howdy! Is this one ever gonna be fun to break down! Here we go, team by team!

Racine Secrets:

In essence, what the Secrets did here is trade Chapa for Mercurio, as they're content with their own DH Carmelo Velez for the moment, who fits better with their lineup than Hooper would have. I'll call this one a good trade for Racine, as Chapa was underperforming grossly and clearly needed a change of scenery. Mercurio gets a chance to be the third starter and reward Moungey for his renewed faith in him.

Miami Vices:

Bad move here by Miami, as they give up one of their powerhouse hitters for a guy with a lot of question marks. Carl Zimmerman is a poor replacement for Hooper and I gotta question the Vices making Chapa their #2 starter and dropping Yun out of the rotation. With both Cristian and former #2 Ronald Sheeley underachieving out their barnacles, it would have made more sense to put Chapa in the #2 slot and keep Yun in the #3 starter position, rather than dropping him to a reliever. This could very well be the trade that proves the Vices' undoing in the East. On the other hand, if Chapa starts showing his potential, he could create a formidable one-two punch with some guy named Davidson. All in all, way too much risk for far too little reward.

Minneapolis Lumberjacks:

With the addition of Hooper, their already vaunted powerhouse lineup gets even more scary, with Steven batting fifth and providing needed protection for underachieving former Secret George Capra. A shrewd move by the Lumberjacks, who already know it's going to be their offense that wins them games, so why not make a strength even greater?

Final Analysis:

Minneapolis and Racine significantly improve their clubs here, while Miami deals themselves a serious blow in their bid to gain the East Division title.

Winners: Minneapolis, Racine
Losers: Miami

[Jestor]

June 10th. We're at home. It's also my mother's birthday.

Before the game, I gather the team together in a huddle and inform them, "Okay guys, we're 0-6 at home and today's my mom's birthday. So let's go out there and win this game for her, eh? It'd make for a really nice present."

"You're on, Coach! Let's grind some Coffeemen ass!"

Josue's emotionally charged pun is greeted with lustful yells and the starters storm out onto the field, invigorated and determined.

...It's not Win one for the Gipper, but whatever works.

Cortada versus Avalos. Here we go. Family and friends in the stands, including Mom. Let's win.

...Holy ****! Who knew we'd come out *this* fired up?! Our Run Support Lacking Ace strikes out 2 of 3 batters in the top of the 1st and in the bottom of the inning, none other than Dynamite Delbert hits a GRAND SLAM! sending home Macdaddy Melvin, Bennie of the Great Eye, and Our Saviour. 4-0 Racine! The stands are going absolutely wild as are we in the dugout. Beautiful!!! Beautiful!!!

The beauty continues in the bottom of the 4th, when Debonair Delbert blats a triple that sends across Japanese Catcher Katamor. 5-0 Racine!

And that does it for Ace Avalos who's relieved by Tyler Cueto. I'm tempted to make a wisecrack involving the nickname of Cute when I see the name on the scoreboard, but I don't want to risk jinxing our good fortune.

...And it's a damn good thing I didn't, because with the very next at-bat, Sensational Salinas torches one out of the park for 2. 7-0 Secrets! By now, everyone is on their feet in the stands, cheering in frenzied jubilation. As well they should! It's about damn time we were kicking tail at home!

The shutout is broken in the top of the 5th when Their Own Japanese Guy hits a single to score one. 7-1 Racine. Lord, I hope we don't blow this.

Oh my God!!! Oh my God!!! Super Fielding And Now Explosively Hitting Salinas hits another 2 RBI homerun in the bottom of the 6th and it's 9-1 Racine!!!! The other person he brought in? That's right, Dazzling Delbert!

The onslaught continues in that half-frame when Melvin of the Flawless Glove snipes a single to score Superboy. 10-1 Secrets!

What the hell?! Has my team been taking steroids on the sly?! In the next AB, Eagle-Eyed Taylor of all people, hits a two run moonshot to make it 12-1 Racine. Everyone, including me, is delirious with glee. This is just amazing!

The bottom of the 7th ends up in Cueto getting pulled and David Hill taking the hill. Not that it's going to make any difference. This game is long gone.

Midway through the top of the 8th, The Christian Ace looks exhausted. I make a rare move by actually going out to the mound to talk to him, all eyes on us.

"Hey Cristian... you're looking a little bushwhacked."
"Yeah, Coach. I am. You can put in one of the guys from the pen if you want."
"**** no, Cortada! You haven't gotten run support worth **** all season long, and now that you've gotten it, you're staying in and getting the complete game and your first win!"
"...Thanks, Coach. I appreciate it."

His smile is all I need for reassurance that I'm making the right move as I head back to the dugout. Let's just hope the defense can pull it out for him.. and us.

...And they do!

The ninth inning results?

A walk, followed by a double play... and then the capstone of all capstones... Cortada getting his 10th K for the last out!

A mob scene ensues as the spectators pour out of the stands to throw Cristian atop their shoulders, cheering and applauding loudly.

I grin and push my way through the moving crowd to get next to my mother, whose all smiles, her eyes asparkle with happiness.

"Happy Birthday, Mom."
"That was awesome, Tim! You guys played great!"

Yes... we did. And got our first home victory of the season with our ace on my mom's 54th birthday.

I can't think of a more perfect ending.

[Jestor]

Birthdays and I have an ambivalent relationship. I love them even as I loathe them.

My affection for these days of world entrance lies chiefly in the uniqueness of their celebration of the individuals appearing on that day. Birthday cake is also quite delicious. Ah, and of course, I must confess that I love purchasing and giving gifts.

But why then, the hatred of them, and why then, this stilted stream of consciousness that hurts the mind-reader to peruse?

Because birthdays signify the passage of time and the unavoidable march to mortality. Would that it was possible to achieve the Holy Grail of immortality, that we might never die. Then, then could I fully and completely enjoy birthdays, rather than be haunted in the dying hours of the night as I am now, the moon disquieting in its ghostly rainment of white.

I do not wish to die... do not want to pass on from this world. Even if we do exist as wisps of spirits after we are gone, what fun is that? For a sensualist like me, addicted to the pleasures attainable only through hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting, and most important of all touching... to be condemned to an incorporeal form is an invitation to Hell.

If I am to wander the cloud city of Heaven, then let me have a tangible body! Allow me the bliss of orgasm as I couple with the loveliest of all creatures, God's golden-haired angels! Do not force me the drudgery of sweeping through a vast expanse with naught to do but fly, play a harp, and talk with other spirits. Far better would be Hell in that instance, I should think, for at least in the pain there is feeling and sensation.

I do not want to become mere dust. Let not the atheists be right in their assertion that there is nothing in the end. Too, banish the reincarnationists, for even in the return to the earthly world, all sense of my self would be lost in the rebirth, and so I too, in essence would become lost and not Myself, but an Other.

Now on the other hand, were I to know myself as still being myself and retain the memories of the former me, then reincarnation might even be quite fun, for through several lifetimes, I would have the pleasure of experiencing the totality that human existence has to offer, with each succeeding incarnation growing wiser and more knowledgeable than the last.

But of course, this fantasy, as many are, is all an illusion, an idyllic daydream that will not see fruition or the light of day in reality.

All of this pondering and heavy thought makes me tired. Abed I go. Winning streak, shall we come to know you tomorrow? I hope so.

...Hope is often all that we have.

[Jestor]

With the advent of the sun, the terror of my thoughts vanishes, the rays of light too powerful for that banshee to continue haunting me.

Calmer now, I check my e-mail to obtain the results from the day before:

Friday June 10, 2004

Seattle 1
Racine 12

WP: Cristian Cortada (1-1)
LP: Alberto Avalos (4-2)

Cortada finally got run support this game and what support he received! The Secrets destroyed the Coffeemen in a double digit trouncing in a game that was dominated by the Racine starter. Cristian threw a complete game, giving up just one earned run and walking 4 while K'ing 10. Secrets CF Delbert Cook was the primary Seattle slayer, with a grand slam accounting for 4 of his 5 RBIs.

San Diego 7
Boston 0

WP: Heriberto Perez (6-1)
LP: Christopher Lobdell (4-2)

Perez returns to his winning ways, pitching a gem of game over 8 and 2/3 innings, allowing no earned runs and issuing 2 walks versus 8 strikeouts. Some controversy ensued as Bishops fans questioned why Heriberto wasn't left in to pick up another complete game and potentially his second shutout. To that we can only say that GM/manager Father George Ayorinde's mysterious moves have worked so far, so we're not one to question him. 2B Bryan Prioleau continues to be a dominating force for San Diego, garnering another 4 RBIs in this contest.

Minneapolis 5
Miami 4

WP: Andrew Sharon (2-0)
LP: Sabino Ulloa (0-1)
S: James Dutil (1)

Vices starter Allen Davidson had his good 7 inning outing in which he surrendered a mere 2 runs while letting 4 men on and dismissing 10 was blown by the bullpen in the late innings of this 11 inning battle of attrition. The coup de grace came in the top of the 11th when Lumberjacks 1B Patrick Poulos hit a solo shot to break the tie. Also key to Minneapolis's victory was RF Roido "Pokemon" Hachemon's 3 RBIs. Former Vice, now Lumberjack DH Steven Hooper went 2 for 5 and his replacement in Miami, Carl Zimmerman went 1 for 5.

New Orleans 9
Memphis 6

WP: Keith Fiorentino (1-0)
LP: Austin Hadsell (0-1)

Despite 3 errors, New Orleans managed to win this 10 inning affair. Both of the starters had abysmal outings and it was CF Jaime Gong's 3 run homer in the top of the 10th that clinched the win for the Mardi Gras. Gong was also the RBI leader for New Orleans, sending in 4 men total.

***End Email***

Looks like San Diego is still the top dog in the league, but outside of that, there's a lot of parity. I just wish we hadn't dug ourselves a hole so early in the season or we could contend right now.

[Jestor]

Another day, another game. We've got our lucky charm on the mound in the form of Martinez, squaring off against the winless Estes.

....Oh wait, that means the law of averages will bite us in the arse. ...Damn it!

Ah well, it's time to play ball, so let's hope we can keep it going and get our first winning streak.

....Want to know why Macaroni Marconi is leading the Octopus League in RBIs? It's because Superman Carson frigging gets on base and steals second, then gets knocked in by a single, that's why! And that's what happens in the 1st. 1-0 Seattle. So much for our luck.

Have I mentioned how much I love The Jedi Knight of Clutchness? Likely so, and I'm doing it again, as in the 2nd inning, he drops a hit in the gaps to score Daddymac Delbert and Sizzling Salinas to give us the lead! 2-1 Racine!

A few at-bats later Error-Prone Estes shows us why he's winless by plunking Bennie Wennie with the bases loaded to score Superboy. 3-1 Secrets.

Next up is Scotty Too Hotty "Bonds Without the Steroids" Harper and he finally snaps out of his RISP (Runners In Scoring Position-Hey I've got a new acronymn! and it's crisp without the sea!) slump by sending in a couple more guys who I don't want to jot the names of of. Just make it 5-1 Racine and have it at that. This also marks the end of Estes, as some guy named Cothern Who Has An Intimidating 1.59 ERA comes on in relief. Maybe we can torch him too. The crowd is in quite the good spirits, as you can well imagine.

Remember the Carson to Marconi connection from earlier? It just got worse. In the 3rd, Meathead Marconi hits a 2 run laser with Darrick "I'm Not Johnny" Carson on first and just like that we're down to a 5-3 advantage. Argh!

I don't know what's been in Suddenly Slamming Salinas's water lately, but I like it! He counters in the bottom frame of the third with a solo shot that gets us back up to 6-3 lead. The watchers in the stands rise to give him an ovation of cheers and clapping. So do we in the dugout. Yay!

Mahvahlous Melvin gets us back to our original lead later in the inning when he cracks out a double that scores The One True Clutch God. 7-3 Racine!

Lucifer Lucas hits a leadoff homer in the 4th, but I'm not too concerned as of yet. We're still up 7-4.

By the time the 5th rolls around, it's obvious that Good Luck Charm is running out of magic. He not only walks two, but bobbles a ball that should have been a double play. So it's the bases loaded with just 1 out. Not liking this, I snatch him from the mound and place Lecompte there. Yeah, I was going to trade him. But hell, he's still only got a 1.80 ERA and is 1-0 on the season. ...****. Law of averages! Damn it!

Or not! A pop-up is induced, and then Our Saviour makes a brilliant defensive stop and throw to get us out of trouble! I slap Josue heartily on the back as prelude to a hug when he comes back to the dugout.

"I love you, man."
"...You don't drink Bud Light, Coach."
"True, true."

Highflying Harper smacks a double into the outfield in the second frame of the fifth inning, good for 2 RBIs and we're up to a 9-4 lead! Why the hell couldn't we have this kind of explosion of offense earlier in the season?! Oh well, not going to complain.

Jake Mondo, frustrated with his team's play, comes charging out in the bottom of the 8th inning to argue a call that had Our Saviour safe at first, the second time he's argued with the umpires tonight. First time he was allowed to vent... this time he gets tossed!

So then the bench coach sends in Jesus Man Loera. Yeah, it's gonna take a miracle to beat us.

Especially after Dazzling Delby puts another RBI on the board to bring in Scotty Bonds and it's 10-4. 22 runs in 2 games... who would have thought we'd see that out of this offense the way we'd been playing, especially at home.

...Make that 24. Superboy just plated two more and it's 12-4 us now. I'd laugh if we beat them by double digits two games in a row.

A 1-2-single-3 inning later and we've won again!

Hello to our first win streak!!!!!

I can't even remember the last time I felt this good!

[Jestor]

Oh Sugar when you're close to me
You love me right down to my knees
And whenever you let me hit it
Sweet like the honey when it comes to me
Skin is caramel with those cocoa eyes
Even got a big sister by the name of Chocolate Thai

A song about Morrigan? No, merely mellow-rhythmed lyrics here in Teezer's, an intimately small bar three blocks from my home.

So small is it, in fact, that even with only half of the team here (the others are at Buckets across the street), we take up almost all of the available seating.

As I sip my Long Island Iced Tea and smoke my Lucky Strike, I listen to the pleasant bubbling of conversation stream about me. When in the early stages of drinking, there is the same pleasurable sensation that one experiences when stepping into a hot bath on a lionesque March morning.

But there is no bath and this is not tough March. Still, there is that silky, undressed feeling as I drink and smoke. The exact content of the words being spoken are not known; everything is as vague and blurry as French Impressionist art.

Yet, this is no bad thing. To be languid and indistinct in the frame of mind is to introduce the same atmosphere as those in dreams. The unchaining of the mind, the drifting away from the sharp-cut lines of masculine reality's rigidity... this is when one walks in Keat's starry night and strolls the plush, nurturing, fluffly clouds of Rainbow City Care-A-Lot with its Bears and Cousins (Arkansasians, cease thy mouth-froth... they are not bare cousins).

Will the next series of games produce the trifecta?

I do not know, nor do I care.

Leave me to my idyllic kingdom of enchantment, where the girls are young and pretty and Nature is lush and lovely.

[Jestor]

The quiet serenity of dusk's regal mantle of purple has settled over the court of the next evening's sky.

My run and that of the Secrets has been frenzied, fun, and frustrating as a roller coaster ride 30 seconds long that entails a three hour wait in line.

Yet, here ends the recording of my thoughts.

Will we continue to play on? Or shall we ourselves be dipped in the amber of days gone by, immortalized as long as there are those who rememeber and care?

That is the question.

Only succeeding generations can answer it.

Goodbye... and thank you for traveling with me.

[Y0DA55]

Is this your way of saying good-bye? If so, it will be a ride very much missed by this reader.

[Jazzmosis]

Don't tell me this is the end of Moungey...

[Jestor]

Sometimes the snow comes down in June
Sometimes the sun goes ’round the moon
I see the passion in your eyes
Sometimes it’s all a big surprise
’cause there was a time when all I did was wish
You’d tell me this was love
It’s not the way I hoped or how I planned
But somehow it’s enough

And now we’re standing face to face
Isn’t this world a crazy place
Just when I thought our chance had passed
You go and save the best for last

All of the nights you came to me
When some silly girl had set you free
You wondered how you’d make it through
I wondered what was wrong with you

’cause how could you give your love to someone else
And share your dreams with me
Sometimes the very thing you’re looking for
Is the one thing you can’t see

And now we’re standing face to face
Isn’t this world a crazy place
Just when I thought our chance had passed
You go and save the best for last

Sometimes the very thing you’re looking for
Is the one thing you can’t see

Sometimes the snow comes down in June
Sometimes the sun goes round the moon
Just when I thought our chance had passed
You go and save the best for last

You went and saved the best for last

A one-hit wonder, but her voice... so powerful, so strong, so emotional... Say whatever else you will about Vanessa Williams's career, but in this moment... in this song... she stands unparallelled as a newly risen Queen... redemption gained, the gates of Paradise flung open... Hallejuah, hallejuah, Eden is once more yours!

I am lifted up, I am cast down. The dichotomy of beautiful bronze bliss (two wins, two wins, a true streak!) and morose mauve melancholy (lonelier than Wordsworth's cloud...) has me weeping here in the dirty disaster that is my sleeping den and library.

Scattered around me are memories of the past, perfectly preserved pages alongside of ripped, ruined rememberances that only increase my pain when I look at them. I fear more than anything else the dissolution of history. The destruction of objects horrifies me, the rape of sentimental objects an offense without equal.

Lillith, the forgotten first frau of Adam, only recently ressurected. If I were allowed to be God for the space of only a few hours, I would spend the first half an hour crafting the ideal girl according to my own tastes.

She would be nineteen, with hair as golden and brilliant as Spanish gold and eyes either light blue, light green, or light grey with a translucence calling to mind serenity's water. Her bosom would be neither ironing board nor excessive mountains of heaving, trembling flesh, but rather sit in the middle, well-curved and shapely... feminine without crossing the line into grossness.

Outside of her chest, her body would be slender in the sylph manner, her skin pale, delicate, and delicious. For a mouth, she would have a pair of lips that were naturally pink, yet frequently shimmering with the addition of tasty glosses to make her all the more kissable.

Staying with that lovely mouth, we turn to her voice. I would demand that it be a true girly girl's voice, one that is capable of the highest of musical prowess. Often she would sing to me, as I would sing to her.

For interests, she too, would wander freely through the realms of writers, musicians, and movies, while having prodigal drawing, painting, and related manual artistic talent.

Her name would be a poem in and of itself, the shapes inherent in the syllables of it as lovely and inspirational as her body and talents. Jane, Karen, Bertha, and Pat need not apply. We welcome worthy candidates such as... Ahh, a listing of favourable names would spoil the surprise, and so I remain mute on them here.

And yet, in the end, this is all moot, an exercise in mental masturbation... a quest for a wretch's wonderland of release, with its hollow images and artificial phantasms.

With the sobbing cry of my expulsion that arrives at the moment this fantasy fae whispers of her love for me, I plunge directly from that celestial happiness down into the tar and brimstone pits of realist despair.

My dreams speak one thing, the circumstances of my earthbound condition shout another.

Alone, alone, alone you shall always be!

I fear it is my fate.

[Jestor]

Still numb with my lingering sorrow, I force myself to check my e-mail and view the day's results. It is not something I particularly feel like doing, but it is a thing to pass the time with.

Friday June 17, 2004

Racine 0
Miami 3

...What? What day is it?

I check the calendar. According to my schedule, it is still the 11th of June. How could 6 days, including my 25th birthday have gone by without my realizing it?

Disturbed, I reach my cell phone, ignoring the fact that it is three thirty in the morning, and dial Delbert's number. He answers on the first ring, his voice groggy.

"Who the hell is it calling me this damn late at night? I'm trying to sleep, you *******!"

Liar. I can hear over the line the sounds of a woman moaning. The bastard is getting laid. Putting on a facade of false cheer and chipperness, I respond.

"Hello, Delbert! It's Tim... Listen, I'll let you get back to ****ing in a minute, but I was just wondering about something. It says on my email that we've already played in Miami on the 17th, but my calendar still says it's the 11th. Did the league office decide to play a joke on me or something?"

"...Hold on a minute, Coach."

I hear him yell for the girl, apparently named Sasha to "get off my dick and go hop in the shower. My boss is on the phone." A moment later, he's back on the line, his voice a little hesitant.

"Umm, I'm not sure how to tell you this, Coach. But it *is* the 17th... We're all down in Miami. You got so drunk after we won on the 11th that you slipped into a coma and were in the hospital until yesterday. Even after you came out of it this morning before we left, you still didn't seem like you were with it, so we left you at home... Scotty took over as the player-manager for today's game."

Stunned, I pull my ear away from the phone, missing some of Delbert's following words. I can't have lost almost an entire week! I can't have! The very idea is so absurd that I... My thoughts are interrupted by Delbert's screaming my name. Grudgingly, I put my ear back to the cell.

"Coach, just take this series off. Scotty can manage the team for the next couple days. We're worried about you, man."

"**** that ****, Delbert! I'm taking the next plane down... I'll be there for tomorrow's game."

Before he can get a chance to reply, I hang up on him and crawl out of bed, stumbling and falling on top of a pile of Sports Illustrateds on the floor with a loud thump.

Damn it, I need to hurry! I need to make it down to Miami ASAP!!

But will I? I don't know... but I'm damned determined to try.

How the hell could I have lost almost a week? I still don't understand...

...And now I'm not only sad, but scared, too.

[Jestor]

Nine hundred dollars and five hours later, I'm on a jet plane heading to the sunny beaches of Miami, a non-alcoholic glass of orange juice in hand. It's strange, the shape that airplane ice cubes take. Not square and solid like your normal blocks of ice, but instead cylinders hollowed out and missing a section, so that they form the outline of c's and resemble rolled tongues.

Do I speak in tongues? No, I am no prophet and there is nothing Biblical about me, save for my name. Timothy, Paul's right hand man. Ironic that he is the saint associated with stomach disorders, as I myself have a hiatal hernia, albeit a small one.

Glancing out the window at the dark grey gathering of clouds, I find my depression deepset still, a funk that knows no end. It is not The Funk of course, but then no one is The Funk save The Funk himself. Cutesy phraseplays on What The Funk? are hereby discouraged.

How could I have allowed myself to become so inebriated as to be lost to the world for so great a span of time? I remember nothing of that block of days, and to a memorist like me who is oftimes guilty of clinging to the icons, images, idols, and ideas of the past, it is a source of terror not unlike that of a great phobia.

Enough of this. I must think about the upcoming game. To hell with the results of the last two contests. I will not make record of them. Let the statisticians and other fan fanatics of the league note them for posterity elsewhere. I am not assigned as the Octopus League's historian, nor shall I serve in that role. I am only a manager and GM, and very poor at both jobs at that.

...And yet, somehow, I feel no joy or tingle of excitement when anticipating tomorrow's athletic contest. There is only this stress and anxiety, this overriding and overwhelming sensation that my life is spiraling out of control. I am the cowboy on a rampaging bull, fighting for each gasp of breath and staying second. Will I make it the full eight count? Or shall I be thrown off, banished to the dirt of death or insanity before my time?

I do not know... I do not know... All I know, and the only thing I can hold to in this moment of inner crisis, is that I will indeed make it to Miami in time for the next day's game.

In times of existential peril such as these, it is the small things we must grasp tightly to, for it is their lights, however minor, that give us the vital hope of survival.

[Jestor]

In the antimeridian hours of the morning, my plane touches down at Miami's main airport. My carry-on lugged down from its overhead compartment, I trudge down the aisles of plane and gate corridor with my fellow red-eyed red-eye fliers until I burst out into the quiet river of activity that is the central hub area from which all terminals spring.

I am unsurprised to find that no one is waiting for me, for I have not told anyone when I was due to arrive. Nor have I informed anyone besides Delbert that I am coming down, and I am certain that he himself has dismissed the possibility of my making good on my threat.

After hailing a cab, I travel the rest of the way to the hotel in comfortable silence. While drivers are normally at least somewhat loquacious in hopes of getting a larger tip, this one, a chubby Cuban man with balding scalp and coarse arm hair who looks to be somewhere in his forties, senses that I am not in the mood for conversation and so just turns up the jazz station on his radio.

Once at the team hotel, I pay him, including a generous tip in the bargain, and we go our separate ways. Check-in at the desk proved to be suprisingly hassle-free, as there were still considerable vacancies to be filled and I opted not to sign in under the auspices of my proper title and team attachment.

Ten minutes gone by, I am in the modest room, my bag tossed on the floor, my body flung backside first on the bed. My bloodshot eyes find the ceiling and I stare it at for an unknown amount of time, adrift on the sea of my calmer thoughts.

I love travel. It is one of the things I adore most about my current occupation. There is much of the nomad in Gemini me, and to stay in one place for too long is chafing, stifling. While I am close enough to the Cancer side of things to long for a place where I may set roots down and be happy living in the chosen burg, my wanderlust demands that I must frequently be wandering elsewhere, to gain the fresh breath and new sights of never-seen or rarely visited regions. My creative nature also requires the novel stimulus to remain alive and prosperous. Being confined to one locale for too great a stretch of time would be the death of me. My soul would shrivel up and wither away, my energy and resolve diminished to levels so low that I'd run the risk of being beyond redemption and recall to life.

May I never be burdened with the tedium of a repetitive job, with the monotony of mundane and menial makings. I am no simple mole, content to burrow here and there and make a cozy home. No, I am the regal, wide-winged phoenix who spread is far-reaching, whose beauty and brightness sometimes needs self-immolation to be reborn anew.

....Ten hours until the game. Just enough time to seek the succor of sleep and be refreshed and ready at the park.

I pull out of my bag a copy of Kissinger's Diplomacy and begin to read. A fewscore pages of international relations theory are enough to have me safely slumbering, sanctuary temporarily found.

My subconscious only prays that this is the turning point towards healing myself and my team.

[Jestor]

Fifteen minutes before the game starts, I march into the park and to the dugout without a word, ignoring the shocked looks on the faces of my players. They don't need to be bothered with a longwinded explanation right now. I point at Martinez, then the mound. He nods slowly, trying a smile that doesn't quite work.

Out there already taking his warm-ups is none other than former Secret Cristian Chapa. He sees me pointing and jabs his index finger right back.

"You're going down, Moungey! I'm gonna make your sorry ass sorry that you ever traded me!"

I respond with an upraised middle finger and motion for Melvin to go up and start the game as leadoff. With a nod, he does, the rest of the team settling into silence on their seats in the dugout. No one wants to be the first one to break the mood I've established.

In the top of the second, Super Boy singles home Daddypimp Delbert and a few of the Secrets get up, mouths open as they're about to yell with glee, but at my knifehand, they nod and only clap mutely, silently hi-fiving Delbert as he comes in. 1-0 Racine.

Bonds comes through in the 3rd with a 2 RBI double, scoring The Team of Letendre and Taylor to make it 3-0 us. Again, there is only that soft, inaudible applause and touching of palms to those coming home.

Still in that inning, Cool Katamor singles in Harper and it's 4-0 Secrets. The same routine as the other runs is followed, the mystic enchantment maintained.

Zimmerman, apparently angry about the bad press he received in the three-way trade I engineered, tells his detractors where to stick it in the fourth inning after he poleaxes one to somewhere in the Atlantic, cutting our lead to 4-2.

Taveras replaces Chapa in the top of the 7th. I turn to the team and smirk, holding up my thumb in salutation of victory. They grin and return the sign. If nothing else, we showed that jerkoff he isn't going to be the one to beat us today.

Midway through a crucial at-bat in the 8th inning, Lucky Wenceslao tires out, so I send in F***head Francis, who happens to be our best strikeout reliever, even though he has a 7.50 ERA.

I'm highly annoyed when he walks the batter to load the bases, but Super Boy saves us with a scorcher of a throw at the next at-bat.

We get an insurance run in the top of the 9th after Taveras plunks Scotty Harper with the bases loaded to give us a 5-2 edge. All of us in the dugout silently snicker at Michael's moronic largesse.

Our Saviour sac-flies the next AB to racket it up to 6-2. I find myself tempted to leave Valderrama in there for the bottom of the 9th now, though it would deny our closer a shot at a save.

The bottom of the 9th rolls in and I finally break the spell of quiet that's been in place over us by turning to Moody Donald.

"You think you can close this game and nail these *******s for the win?"

He nods vigorously, jaw tight as he reaches for his glove and slides it on, his face a determined mask of stone.

"Hell yes I can, Coach Tim! We're winning this thing for you!"
"Thanks. I appreciate it."

And out to the mound he goes, Frumpy Francis looking ticked off at being pulled, but Franny will just have to deal. It's Don's game to win or lose.

Our closer's up against Zimmerman for the first duel. Yeah, *that* hacked off Zimmerman.... who grounds out to third.

Burges is up next. Wonder if he's a poet. If so, he's the poet who struck out.

Their last line of defense? Some Dude Named Calhoun. We're all leaning now, waiting with bated breath....

Damn, he singled. And up next is Miami's Wunderkind David Bailey. I'm going to be very angry if he gets a homerun right here.

But no! He grounds out to the Clutch God and we've won!

The partisan crowd is silent while we rush together, all the Secrets congregating en masse` at the mound. We don't know why, but half of us have tears in our eyes while the other half is screaming their heads off in exuberation.

It's as if we've won our Mini-River Series, in a way.... No matter what the cause, it feels damn good to have this win... More satisfying than any win we've had up to this point in the season.

[Jestor]

Twenty minutes after the game's conclusion, we're all ambling amicably down the street, comfortably silent and simply savouring sunshine's swimming rays over our faces. After a few moments, Scotty speaks.

"You know, I say we say screw getting drunk tonight. It's gotten to be boring and old hat. Let's just go hit the beaches and ogle the hot girls instead."

A quick vote carries the proposed motion unanimously and and a change of clothes into swimsuits later, we're storming the sandy beaches with Seminolesque whoops of warrior glee, spraying jets of brown grains everywher with our stomps as we run rampant through the nubile, bikinied beauties.

I love this team. No one spoke a word about the spot I was in earlier in the week and for that I am greatful. They are letting me work it out on my own while showing their support in this small way.

Would that all of humanity was so compassionate and tactful.

[Jestor]

Around 2 am now. The beach forays were rather fun, even though the girls all ignored me in favour of the other guys. Not that I blame them. With my hairy face and out-of-shape body, there's very few girls who find me appealing, especially when contrasted against the chiseled and sleek physiques of the athletes I lead.

But I'm not going to dwell on that. No, I'm just going to nab the day's scores via email.

Saturday June 18, 2004

Racine 6
Miami 2

WP: Wenceslao Martinez (3-0)
LP: Cristian Chapa (1-4)

Secrets GM/manager Tim Moungey returned to the team today and showed the shrewdness of his judgement on the GM side of things as one of the players he traded for defeated a player he sent away. Martinez went 7 and 2/3 innings, giving up 2 ER and walking 5 while sitting 7. Chapa, on the other hand, lasted 6 and 2/3, surrendering 4 ER and going an even 2 and 2 in walks and strikeouts. DH Scotty Harper was the offensive man for Racine, getting 3 RBIs in the contest.

Boston 5
Memphis 2

WP: Charles Arango (1-1)
LP: Toney Kittleson (3-3)
S: Gabriel Perras (1)

Arango was dominating in this outing, going a complete 8 innings, allowing 2 earned runs and walking 2 while punching out 6. Kittleson was blasted for 5 R, 4 earned, over 6 innings, including 3 homeruns. Adding insult to injury, he also had his first error of the season. Burgundys LF Francis Ginn knocked in 3 RBIs to pace Boston.

Minneapolis 3
Seattle 0

WP: Mario Troyer (1-4)
LP: Lee Estes (0-5)

In a battle of winless pitchers, Troyer dazzled, pitching a three-hitter complete game shutout and walking just 1 while taking down 5. Estes continues to struggle and there are rumours of his being shipped out of town to the Secrets, whose scouts believe that he's better than his winless record and 6.49 ERA suggest. Speaking of Racine, leading the way for the Lumberjacks was former Secret 3B George Capra with all 3 RBIs for Minneapolis.

New Orleans 6
San Diego 7

WP: Charles Thole (1-0)
LP: Keith Fiorentino (1-1)

The Bishops narrowly avoided the upset in this 10-inning fight when 2B Bryan Prioleau hit a solo shot in the bottom of the 10th to give San Diego the win. C Daniel Alvarez also was crucial, contributing 4 RBIs for the victors.

***End E-mail***

...We have interest in Estes? That's news to me.

[Jestor]

Fourth Turn: Third-Quarter Analysis of the Octopus League

We here at the Tentacle apologize for this delayed report. A virus infected the magazine's computer network and it was only until now that we were able to get our system cleaned up. So again, we offer our deepest apologies and present to you the belated third quarter report, with four games left to go in the first Octopus League season.

Standings:



The biggest suprise has to be the Racine Secrets, a team that had been left for dead now suddenly surging and gaining on the rest of the league. It's a case of too little, too late, for the preseason division crown contender co-favorites, but on the other hand, it bodes well for Racine's chances in the coming season. The Rebels of Memphis still insistent on chasing the Miami Vices and it's a race that we expect to go down to the wire. In the West, on the other hand, there is no suspense. The San Diego Bishops are your 2004 Octopus League West Division champions and will be in the inaugural River Series.

Batting Leaderboards:

Average:
.386 C Wayne Dewitt (New Orleans Mardi Gras)
.375 RF Roido "Pokemon" Hachemon (Minneapolis Lumberjacks)
.354 3B Donald Stine (San Diego Bishops)
.343 CF Darrick "Superman" Carson (Seattle Coffeemen)
.342 1B George Marconi (Seattle Coffemen)

There's been a change at the top since the halfway mark, with Dewitt and Hachemon switching places, the first time Roido has fallen out of the first position he's held all season long. Stine and Carson were noted in the preseason for their exceptional contact hitting, so their presence is not a surprise in the least. That Marconi makes a return to this leaderboard does prove stunning, however, as he was not expected to be this consistent a hitter.

Homeruns:
7 CF Curtis "CJ" Jones (Miami Vices)
6 DH William Acosta (Boston Burgundys)
6 RF Glenn Reed (San Diego Bishops)
6 1B Nick Penney (Miami Vices)
Numerous others tied at 5

Except for Jones, this leaderboard underwent a radical change from its earlier form and, except for CJ, these leaders are all significant suprises. But then, that's going to happen there's a shortened season as is the case with the Octopus League.

RBI:
22 1B George Marconi (Seattle Coffemen)
21 RF Estanis Rodriguez (Memphis Rebels)
20 C Wayne Dewitt (New Orleans Mardi Gras)
18 RF Glenn Reed (San Diego Bishops)
17 C Daniel Alvarez (San Diego Bishops)

The Burgundys' Foster dropped out as we anticipated, though the board is largely unchanged outside of that, save for Dewitt and Reed's flipflopping places. These athletes have shown a knack all season long for bringing runners home and given that consistency, we expect to see them still hanging about here when all is said and done.

R:
17 CF Timothy Chesson (San Diego Bishops)
16 3B Bernardo "Saint" Rosado (Boston Burgundys)
14 CF Curtis "CJ" Jones (Miami Vices)
14 1B Jeremy McCleery (San Diego Bishops)
14 CF Darrick "Superman" Carson (Seattle Coffeemen)
14 C Wayne Dewitt (New Orleans Mardi Gras)

We're starting to see some familiar names consistently pop up on the leaderboards, showing that there's quite a few hitters in the OL who are the complete package. 3 of them are here: Dewitt, Carson, and Jones. All three of these guys are contenders for the Batter of the Year award.

Doubles:
10 1B John Bahr (Boston Burgundys)
8 RF Estanis Rodriguez (Memphis Rebels)
8 C Wayne Dewitt (New Orleans Mardi Gras)
8 CF Darrick "Superman" Carson (Seattle Coffeemen)
8 3B Edward Mauldin (Memphis Rebels)

Want to know why the Rebels are still very much in contention for the East Division crown? It's because they have a pair of guys who can really find the gaps in an outfield for extra-base hits in Rodriguez and Mauldin, the latter of whom is the only newcomer to this otherwise unchanged board.

Walks:
21 3B Bernardo "Saint" Rosado (Boston Burgundys)
18 3B Edward Mauldin (Memphis Rebels)
17 CF Darrick "Superman" Carson (Seattle Coffeemen)
15 2B William Canterbury (Miami Vices)
14 C Wayne Dewitt (New Orleans Mardi Gras)

Canterbury is an anamoly here, but all the rest of the leaders in this section deserve to be here. Rosado was walked more times than any other batter in the third quarter of play, causing him to shoot up from third to first. Without him, the Burgundys would likely be last and least in the league.

Strikeouts:
24 RF Glenn Reed (San Diego Bishops)
24 3B David Bailey (Miami Vices)
23 1B Patrick Poulos (Minneapolis Lumberjacks)
23 SS Oscar Medina (New Orleans Mardi Gras)
22 CF David Goddard (Boston Burgundys)
22 2B Bryan Prioleau (San Diego Bishops)

As projected, Gong drops out of this horrible board to be on, many of the remaining leaders still hanging on to their ignoble distinction. In particular, the Poulos Watch reports that Patrick still hasn't walked once the entire season. Speculation in Minneapolis says that Davanni's Pizzeria is offering a free pizza to anyone with a ticket stub from the Lumberjacks game where Poulos draws a walk, if he does get one any time in his career.

SB:
11 2B William Canterbury (Miami Vices)
10 CF Timothy Chesson (San Diego Bishops)
9 CF Darrick "Superman" Carson (Seattle Coffeemen)
9 2B Jaime Gutierrez (Racine Secrets)
7 LF Miguel Salinas (Racine Secrets)

Much of Racine's resurgence can be attributed to their success on the basepaths, as they have two of the league's leaders in steals here. Canterbury, Chesson, and Carson have all taken advantage of their repeated walks to steal many a base on their way to being the top three thieves.

OBP
.488 C Wayne Dewitt (New Orleans Mardi Gras)
.471 CF Darrick "Superman" Carson (Seattle Coffeemen)
.466 3B Edward Mauldin (Memphis Rebels)
.425 RF Roido "Pokemon" Hachemon (Minneapolis Lumberjacks)
.416 3B Bernado "Saint" Rosado (Boston Burgundys)

Hachemon's slide on the leaderboards continues with a drop from second to fourth here. Borger also disappears from the charts, as anticipated. Dewitt stays the leader here and the Saint sneaks in to claim the coveted number five ranking.

OPS
1.203 C Wayne Dewitt (New Orleans Mardi Gras)
1.044 CF Curtis "CJ" Jones (Miami Vices)
1.043 CF Darrick "Superman" Carson (Seattle Coffeemen)
1.037 3B Edward Mauldin (Memphis Rebels)
1.036 RF Roido "Pokemon" Hachemon (Minneapolis Lumberjacks)

Remember when we said it was a tough call between Carson and Jones as to who the best CF availabe in the dispersal draft was? It's never been more evident than in this stat, where they're separated by a thousandth of a point.
Dewitt's dominance continues here. We'll pick him as our early favourite for Batter of the Year.

Pitching Leaderboards:

Wins:
6 SP Heriberto Perez (San Diego Bishops)
5 SP Allen Davidson (Miami Vices)
5 SP Joshua Jones (New Orleans Mardi Gras)
5 SP Alberto Avalos (Seattle Coffemen)
4 SP Christopher "Lobster" Lobdell (Boston Burgundys)
4 SP Omer Houseman (Memphis Rebels)

At long last, we're starting to get separation in terms of leaders of wins. The Perez/Davidson debate heats up anew, just when we thought it was dead. Avalos and Jones are suprising leaders here, who account for 50% or more of their respective teams' wins. Lobdell, too, has 50% of the Burgundys' wins.

Losses:
5 SP Lee Estes (Seattle Coffeemen)
4 SP Mario Troyer (Minneapolis Lumberjacks)
4 SP Julio Rosado (Minneapolis Lumberjacks)
4 SP Cristian Chapa (Miami Vices)
Numerous others tied at 3

It seems somehow fitting that Estes become the Octopus League's biggest loser in the game he lost to Troyer. We said in the preseason previews that starting pitching was a huge weakness for the Lumberjacks and it's shown here. Chapa being sent out of Racine was one of the best moves the Secrets made this season and his arrival spells trouble for the Vices' postseason aspirations.

Saves:
6 CL Charles Thole (San Diego Bishops)
6 CL Anton Arispe (Miami Vices)
3 CL Andrew Sharon (Minneapolis Lumberjacks)
Numerous others tied at 2

Thole and Arispe. Those are the only two names that truly qualify as ace closers in this league. It's no suprise that their respective teams are at the top of their divisions. Interesting to note is that Minneapolis's closer breaks into the leaderboards here, proof of his incomparable value to the Lumberjacks' bullpen.

ERA:
2.34 SP Heriberto Perez (San Diego Bishops)
2.38 SP Jose Leyba (San Diego Bishops)
2.55 SP Allen Davidson (Miami Vices)
2.62 SP Cristian Cortada (Racine Secrets)
3.19 SP Carlos Ramos (New Orleans Mardi Gras)

The one-two starters of the Bishops continue to hold a fierce strangehold on the one-two positions of the ERA leaderboard, but Davidson has come rampaging back to retake the third slot. Cortada lowered his ERA in the third quarter and now sits at fourth, he and Leyba the victims of poor run support in their outings.

Walks:
25 SP Weceslao Martinez (Racine Secrets)
25 SP Jose Leyba (San Diego Bishops)
21 SP Allen Davidson (Miami Vices)
19 SP Heriberto Perez (San Diego Bishops)
17 SP Cristian Cortada (Racine Secrets)
17 SP Julio Rosado (Minneapolis Lumberjacks)

Two of the hottest teams in the league have one thing in common. Guess what it is? That's right, both of them have two pitchers on the most walks issued leaderboard. This, as noted at the midway point, is a testament of their stellar defenses. DIPS is a good thing.

Strikeouts:
73 SP Heriberto Perez (San Diego Bishops)
63 SP Allen Davidson (Miami Vices)
51 SP Cristian Cortada (Racine Secrets)
51 SP Christopher "Lobster" Lobdell (Boston Burgundys)
38 SP Omer Houseman (Memphis Rebels)

Save for Houseman's nipping Leyba for the fifth spot, this section is completely unchanged in members or in ranking. Perez, Davidson, Cortada, and Lobdell are the Four Great Aces of the Octopus League.

Team Batting Report:



Team Pitching Report:



Team Fielding Report: