Waiting can be an agonizing activity. Often, to spare ourselves mental anguish, we use distractions to help pass the time. So, as we wait for yet another storm front to move across the New York metro area, I thought I'd post a couple of things to take our minds off of rain outs. First, a quick stroll down memory lane, all the way back to August 2008. The setting: Astoria's
Bohemian Hall & Beer Garden. The occasion: A Blues Banquet. Because of a medical emergency, Andy couldn't attend last summer's celebration and the following speech had to be delivered in absentia.
Before I say anything else, I’d like to give a shout out to Brooklyn. Secondly, I hope that many good kielbasa jokes are made this evening—I’m disappointed to be missing them. To begin, I’m grateful to receive this award and the public recognition of my tremendous talent as well as the unparalleled contributions I’ve made to the team. But for the sake of next season, I had to go to Nashville for some experimental surgery on my injured wrist.
I was going to wait to tell everyone, but then I thought it was best to inform you all now: I'm getting a Terminator arm. Although the damage didn’t seem serious at first, doctors informed me that I was close to dying. Fortunately for the Blues, the prospect of playing one more season was all the hope I needed to live long enough to become part machine.
I will be donating my award to charity to contribute to this extremely important cause because with enough awards like this one, we'll be able to see an end to broken wrists within our lifetimes. Imagine a world where your grandchild says, “Pop-pop, what's a broken wrist?” and you reply, “What the deuce?!?! No, wait… sorry, that's history.”
Remember, TIME magazine called softball injuries this millennium's bubonic plague; I’m proud to be a spokesperson in the battle against this scourge. And sure, I’m fighting the good fight one-handed at the moment, but I still think that together we can win handily. Also without getting too partisan, everyone should know that if elected to office, John McCain plans on cutting all funding for broken-wrist research. What a bastard. Finally, I’d like to thank myself for my exceptional athleticism. I’d also like to thank my parents for giving me shoddy genes and God, for making my bones so very, very brittle. Oh, and if it weren’t for Ben, I wouldn’t have broken anything in the first place.
Shifting focus to the season ahead of us, I'd like to put to rest a rumor that's been overheard in the locker room on more than one occasion. In spite of any flimsy evidence to the contrary, the Blues Organization
does in fact care about the well-being of its players. No, we don't have a team van, a trainer, or even a clubhouse, but I'm very proud to announce that we've nearly secured an official baker. She's an
award-winning pastry chef and, as of Monday, the proud owner of a
Cuisinart Stand Mixer, complete with 1,000 watts of mixing power! Because frankly, cupcakes (OK, OK
and beer) are the only fitting way to commemorate our first win of 2009.
Chasing a dream, the Blues stumbled on their way to an improved record in their tenth game of the season, ultimately falling to Doft Punk after seven innings. At times Oxford did show some real tenacity on the North Meadow, but three scoreless turns at the plate kept them from catching up with their opponents, who quickly took the lead with nine runs in the first two innings. 
