So what do you think will happen first: J.D. Drew takes the bat off of his f'ing shoulder or Sox Appeal will win an Emmy? And when did Terry Francona morph into Grady Little? I'll hang up and listen.
Mike Miller from the Boston Phoenix made a great point about one of Sox Appeal's biggest flaws in today's edition. It's hard to give a shit about this show when it's on less than an hour after the Sox have coughed up a huge hairball. And let's be honest, it's hard to give a shit about this show on a good night. But after tonight's, where the 92 year old Ohio Con Man no-hits the Sox for most of the game, the last thing anyone cares about is seeing a bunch of assclowns trying to get laid.
Although to be fair, Mike Miller said it much more eloquently.
No sense in postponing the inevitable. Let's get this over with.
Tonight's lovesick sucker is 29 year old Kevin Whitten, a truck driver from Rehoboth, MA. He's on the rebound after his engagement to the love of his life went south. They had a dream house together and everything. I get the feeling Kevin isn't quite over the ex yet since he's looking through a photo album filled with their pictures. And really now, what better way to cure a broken heart than to go on a shitty reality dating show?
Kevin rides a motorcycle and drives a very big truck. Kevin is a very macho man and he'd be the first to tell you that.
Contestant number 1 is Jesse Harkness, a 25 year old Yale med student from Big Timber, Montana.
Please insert your own "Will Kevin get wood" joke here.
She's a pretty, blond, Yale med student and has to go on a shitty reality dating show to find someone? Are things that bad in New Haven?
Oh no, wait, it gets better. She graduated from Brown. She's double Ivy League and she's on Sox Appeal.
Kevin wastes no time with the flirting, telling her she has beautiful eyes. She starts telling him about school and he's paying absolutely no attention whatsoever. I'm sorry but it's not even six minutes into this show and Kevin is making a serious run to replace Micah as the biggest asshole on Sox Appeal. And he's a close talker to boot. He starts asking really stupid questions about her favorite things. She likes action movies but Kevin doesn't really care what she likes because the second she stops talking, he asks if she wants to know his favorite movie.
And what might that movie be?
Translation? Jesse has bigger balls than Kevin, although he would tell you they're the size of grapefruits.
Did he really just say what I think he just said?
Hang on a second.
Micah, you've officially been dethroned.
"You're obviously not picky with your clothes."
"So how's your sex life?"
I don't know if I can go on. I'm not kidding. I don't know if I can find the words to adequately describe what a complete dick this guy is. He's reached a level of asshat that I never knew existed.
Jesse looks horrified and disgusted. She stumbles around, trying to come up with a non-answer and Kevin leans back and stares at her chest.
The first inning ends and Don and Remy chime in. Remy thinks Jesse wants nothing to do with Kevin, based on body language alone. If he only knew.
On to the second and Jesse busts out the line of year as they talk about what they're looking for in a relationship.
"I get along with people pretty easily. I can sit with the world's most annoying person for a couple of innings and still have a good time."
If I ever see Jesse during one of my non-existent trips to Yale, I'm buying her a beer. It was just that good.
And it went completely over the dickhead's..um...head.
She continues, saying that it's important to be able to talk to anyone, especially in the medical profession when you're dealing with your patients.
"Sorta like a lunchlady!"
Kill him. Kill him now. Jesse, I'm begging you. You have access to medical supplies. Jam a syringe in his jugular.
While Kevin babbles about how great his life is and he just wants someone to share in the greatness that is himself, the second inning comes to a close. Jesse moves in for a polite hug and Kevin pratically starts humping her leg. She leaves and he finishes her beer.
I hope she spit in it.
Hey, Gayle and Laura are back!
Next up is Traci Harris, 22, from Manchester, NH. She's looking for a guy that's confident but not cocky. She'd be better off hooking up with one of the homeless guys on the Common.
Oh hell no.
They already know each other from the casting call. She's had a crush on him ever since and even wrote a newspaper article about the experience. She refers to him as Number 91. Shortly before tonight's date, she was at a sub shop and the number on her receipt was 91. She took it as a sign and put it on her refrigerator.
Forget about killing him. Someone please come here and kill me instead. I don't want to live in a world where someone thinks this mouth breather is a catch.
Traci thought it would be cute if she brought him a Red Sox tattoo since she already has one and then they could match. Since this was something about him, Kevin is excited and gives her a kiss.
I just want to point out that the guys in the Crow and Servo seats are wearing a sombrero and a Quaker hat.
Kevin asks where Traci's tattoos are and she's more than willing to show him and 38,000 other people the Sox "B" on the side of her boob, the star just above her hoo-hah and the sunflower on her lower back.
There's just not enough alcohol.
Traci's doing most of the talking and I suspect that's because Kevin already knows he can get her in the back of his truck. What happens just after the start of the fourth inning confirms that. Traci asks the bartender for a napkin and a bottle of water so that she can put Kevin's tattoo on. He lifts up his shirt, she grabs hold of his nipple and smacks it on.
Am I being Punk'd?
Traci has met several current and former Sox players, including Kevin Millar. Not Kevin Millar says they have the same kind of motorcycle and Traci says she can totally she herself on the back of it, wearing a bikini top.
I've never been happier to see Mike Lowell ground out in my entire life.
After Traci leaves the roof seats, she tells the camera man that he was exactly what she hoped he would be. Thank God for Stedi-Cam.
The last date is 34 year old disc jockey Denise LaCarubba from Stoneham, MA. She's looking for a man that's a reflection of her. This should be good.
Denise is dressed like she just left the auditions to find the next Pussycat Doll at The Rack. The crowd approves, especially since her skirt comes up to her belt. She sits right next to Kevin instead of across from him, helps herself to his beer and asks him "So how do you make your money, honey?"
It's like he's looking in a mirror.
He asks her what's the craziest thing she's ever done at a ballgame. She whispers it to him. I feel spared, don't you?
Now she turns on her radio DJ voice, leans in close to him and breathlessly asks how his evening is going so far. Kevin gets completely flustered and starts stammering as she leans in even closer, like she's about to bite him.
The fifth inning is over! The fifth inning is over!!
Denise is still talking as the sixth begins. She says the following things, all while about two inches from his face:
"I would want to meet somebody and after I met them, I want to be left wanting more."
"I would much rather..I would stay here until they shut these lights out if it meant me satiating my curiosity to figure out what it is about you."
She proceeds to say something about taking him and breaking into a luxury box but I couldn't completely make out what she was saying over the sound of me trying to kill myself.
My life is spared when the sixth inning ends. Denise comes thisclose to wrapping her legs around him when they hug. These two cannot end up together. I'm completely serious about this. Forget about carbon credits. Al Gore would have to invent sleaze credits to counteract the damage they would inflict upon the planet.
It's decision time and Kevin takes out the jumbo marker and the poster board. It's all about the production values. He turns towards the bleachers and holds up the sign.
Oh, you piece of...
We have pictures of Jesse's reaction and her walk back up to the Roof Deck.
Traci is devastated. The poor girl has no idea that she just dodged a bullet full of asshole pellets.
And Denise? It looks like she'll have to wait another day to be satiated by her reflection.
See you next week.