This lady should hang out with that whiny jerk who made the movie Super Size Me.
Girl Scout Cookies Should Be Exempt From Puritan Food-Police Crusades
WASHINGTON, Feb. 27 - PRNewswire-USNewswire
Today the nonprofit Center for Consumer Freedom (CCF) criticized the self-anointed obesity activist MeMe Roth for attacking the Girl Scouts in her anti-fat crusade. Roth called for a nationwide Girl Scout Cookie boycott this morning, demanding that all civic organizations must cease raising money by selling scout cookies.
A Thin Mint never hurt anyone, said CCF Senior Research Analyst Trice Whitefield in response. MeMe Roth is apparently the self-appointed national cookie czar. This is the same woman who had to be physically restrained in Philadelphia last year after she tried to vandalize a snack table at the YMCA. Roths deepest, darkest fear is that, somewhere, theres a child enjoying a snack.
Appearing on Comedy Centrals The Daily Show in November, Roth agreed with correspondent Rob Riggles suggestion that eating a cupcake is the same as putting a gun in your mouth. A month later, she took her smear campaign into Christmastime, insisting that a fat Santa Claus is a poor role model for children.
MeMe Roth should give us all a break from her silly food-cop media stunts, Whitefield continued. Food cops wont be happy until the Girl Scouts are reduced to selling high-fiber oat bran biscuits to raise money; Americans are tired of being lectured by these holier-than-thou snack tyrants.
For more information about activists who stand in the way of Americans food and beverage choices, visit www.ConsumerFreedom.com.
Here's a Girl Scout Cookie:
NEW YORK (AP) - William F. Buckley Jr., the erudite Ivy Leaguer and conservative herald who showered huge and scornful words on liberalism as he observed, abetted and cheered on the right's post-World War II rise from the fringes to the White House, died Wednesday. He was 82.
His assistant Linda Bridges said Buckley was found dead by his cook at his home in Stamford, Conn. The cause of death was unknown, but he had been ill with emphysema, she said.
Editor, columnist, novelist, debater, TV talk show star of "Firing Line," harpsichordist, trans-oceanic sailor and even a good-natured loser in a New York mayor's race, Buckley worked at a daunting pace, taking as little as 20 minutes to write a column for his magazine, the National Review.
Yet on the platform he was all handsome, reptilian languor, flexing his imposing vocabulary ever so slowly, accenting each point with an arched brow or rolling tongue and savoring an opponent's discomfort with wide-eyed glee.
"I am, I fully grant, a phenomenon, but not because of any speed in composition," he wrote in The New York Times Book Review in 1986. "I asked myself the other day, `Who else, on so many issues, has been so right so much of the time?' I couldn't think of anyone."
Buckley had for years been withdrawing from public life, starting in 1990 when he stepped down as top editor of the National Review. In December 1999, he closed down "Firing Line" after a 23-year run, when guests ranged from Richard Nixon to Allen Ginsberg. "You've got to end sometime and I'd just as soon not die onstage," he told the audience.
"For people of my generation, Bill Buckley was pretty much the first intelligent, witty, well-educated conservative one saw on television," fellow conservative William Kristol, editor of the Weekly Standard, said at the time the show ended. "He legitimized conservatism as an intellectual movement and therefore as a political movement."
Fifty years earlier, few could have imagined such a triumph. Conservatives had been marginalized by a generation of discredited stands—from opposing Franklin Roosevelt's New Deal to the isolationism which preceded the U.S. entry into World War II. Liberals so dominated intellectual thought that the critic Lionel Trilling claimed there were "no conservative or reactionary ideas in general circulation."
Buckley founded the biweekly magazine National Review in 1955, declaring that he proposed to stand "athwart history, yelling `Stop' at a time when no one is inclined to do so, or to have much patience with those who urge it." Not only did he help revive conservative ideology, especially unbending anti-Communism and free market economics, his persona was a dynamic break from such dour right-wing predecessors as Sen. Robert Taft.
Although it perpetually lost money, the National Review built its circulation from 16,000 in 1957 to 125,000 in 1964, the year conservative Sen. Barry Goldwater was the Republican presidential candidate. The magazine claimed a circulation of 155,000 when Buckley relinquished control in 2004, citing concerns about his mortality, and over the years the National Review attracted numerous young writers, some who remained conservative (George Will, David Brooks), and some who didn't (Joan Didion, Garry Wills).
"I was very fond of him," Didion said Wednesday. "Everyone was, even if they didn't agree with him."
Born Nov. 24, 1925, in New York City, William Frank Buckley Jr. was the sixth of 10 children of a multimillionaire with oil holdings in seven countries. The son spent his early childhood in France and England, in exclusive Roman Catholic schools.
His prominent family also included his brother James, who became a one-term senator from New York in the 1970s; his socialite wife, Pat, who died in April 2007; and their son, Christopher, a noted author and satirist ("Thank You for Smoking").
A precocious controversialist, William was but 8 years old when he wrote to the king of England, demanding payment of the British war debt.
After graduating with honors from Yale in 1950, Buckley married Patricia Alden Austin Taylor, spent a "hedonistic summer" and then excoriated his alma mater for what he regarded as its anti-religious and collectivist leanings in "God and Man at Yale," published in 1951.
Buckley spent a year as a low-level agent for the Central Intelligence Agency in Mexico, work he later dismissed as boring.
With his brother-in-law, L. Brent Bozell, Buckley wrote a defense of Sen. Joseph McCarthy in 1954, "McCarthy and His Enemies." While condemning some of the senator's anti-communist excesses, the book praised a "movement around which men of good will and stern morality can close ranks."
In 1960, Buckley helped found Young Americans for Freedom, and in he was among the founders of the Conservative Party in New York. Buckley was the party's candidate for mayor of New York in 1965, waging a campaign that was in part a lark—he proposed an elevated bikeway on Second Avenue—but that also reflected a deep distaste for the liberal Republicanism of Mayor John V. Lindsay. Asked what he would do if he won, Buckley said, "I'd demand a recount."
He wrote the first of his successful spy thrillers, "Saving the Queen," in 1976, introducing Ivy League hero Blackford Oakes. Oakes was permitted a dash of sex—with the Queen of England, no less—and Buckley permitted himself to take positions at odds with conservative orthodoxy. He advocated the decriminalization of marijuana, supported the treaty ceding control of the Panama Canal and came to oppose the Iraq war.
Buckley also took on the archconservative John Birch Society, a growing force in the 1950s and 1960s. "Buckley's articles cost the Birchers their respectability with conservatives," Richard Nixon once said. "I couldn't have accomplished that. Liberals couldn't have, either."
Although he boasted he would never debate a Communist "because there isn't much to say to someone who believes the moon is made of green cheese," Buckley got on well with political foes. His friends included such liberals as John Kenneth Galbraith and Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr., who despised Buckley's "wrathful conservatism," but came to admire him for his "wit, his passion for the harpsichord, his human decency, even for his compulsion to epater the liberals."
Buckley was also capable of deep and genuine dislikes. In a 1968 television debate, when left-wing novelist and critic Gore Vidal called him a "pro-war-crypto-Nazi," Buckley snarled an anti-gay slur and threatened to "sock you in your ... face and you'll stay plastered." Their feud continued in print, leading to mutual libel suits that were either dismissed (Vidal's) or settled out of court (Buckley's).
Buckley also had little use for the music of the counterculture, once calling the Beatles "so unbelievably horrible, so appallingly unmusical, so dogmatically insensitive to the magic of the art, that they qualify as crowned heads of antimusic."
The National Review could do little to prevent Goldwater's landslide defeat in 1964, but as conservatives gained influence so did Buckley and his magazine. The long rise would culminate in 1980 when Buckley's good friend, Ronald Reagan, was elected president. The outsiders were now in, a development Buckley accepted with a touch of rue.
"It's true. I had much more fun criticizing than praising," he told the Washington Post in 1985. "I criticize Reagan from time to time, but it's nothing like Carter or Johnson."
Buckley's memoir about Goldwater, "Flying High," was coming out this spring, and his son said he was working on a book about Reagan.
Buckley so loved a good argument—especially when he won—that he compiled a book of bickering in "Cancel Your Own Goddam Subscription," published in 2007 and featuring correspondence with the famous (Nixon, Reagan) and the merely annoyed.
"Mr. Buckley," one non-fan wrote in 1967, "you are the mouthpiece of that evil rabble that depends on fraud, perjury, dirty tricks, anything at all that suits their purposes. I would trust a snake before I would trust you or anybody you support."
Responded Buckley: "What would you do if I supported the snake?"
Three cheers for this little guy! He's taken a pretty tough hand to be dealt and kicked some butt! This fella is the ultimate "Tiny Dancer"! Thanks to CFC IV:
At just 2ft 9in, Indian muscleman Aditya 'Romeo' Dev is the world's smallest bodybuilder.
Pint-sized Romeo is well-known in his hometown of Phagwara, India - for his ability to lift 1.5kg dumbbells - despite his overall 9kg body weight.
Every day, crowds flock to the local gym to the see the mini-muscleman in training.
Unlike many dwarfs, Romeo is well proportioned, with a head circumference of 15in and a chest measurement of 20in.
Romeo said: "I've been training as a bodybuilder for the last two years and by now I think I must be the strongest dwarf in the world.
"I have always been fit but since I started working out, I have become famous for my strength.
"My size has never stopped me. I train with dumbbells and do aerobics and dance. People are always pleased to see me. I have been invited on TV shows and dance on stage."
His trainer Ranjeet Pal spents hours helping his 19-year-old protege build his small muscles to perfection.
"Because of his small size, I don't assign him hard exercises. But Romeo trains more or less the same as anyone else and he's much more determined.
"When he first started, I insisted he did a month of basic exercises like aerobics, push-ups and basic gymnastics to prepare his body.
"After that, I made lightweight dumbbells and taught him basic weight-lifting exercises to shape his biceps and triceps. His size and his weight were taken care of so that he never hurt himself."
Determined Romeo is hoping to have an entertainment career after performing in many local TV shows.
He said: "I earn good money through my dance and bodybuilding shows but being rich doesn't interest me.
"My dream is to travel a lot - I want to perform in London with my idol, Jazzy-B."
In early 1993, while living in Madrid, I visited the then-brand-new Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza across from the Prado. The Spanish government acquired this excellent collection from Swiss industrialist Baron Hans Heinrich Thyssen-Bornemisza (I think he married a Spanish lady). Anyway, I bought a print of an odd Salvador Dali painting. Somewhere along the way I lost it in a move. This 1944 painting is called Sueño causado por el vuelo de una abeja alrededor de una granada un segundo antes de despertar (in English: Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee around a Pomegranate One Second Before Waking Up):
I was sifting through some old family photo albums and came across some pics of Yours Truly with Bucky, my golden retriever and childhood companion.
Here were are in the summer of about 1979, apparently in the middle of an intense training session. If my memory serves me correctly, that look I'm sporting with the hat was considered very stylish and smooth at the time:
Here's the two-part Christmas card we got from the breeders. It shows Bucky with all his brothers and sisters. He is on the far left:
February 4th is the birthday of Grotto political correspondent Mr. LGB III, known as Terry.
Here is "The Snail" with wife Monique, who totally rules! They were freshman year "sweethearts" at Georgetown:
Here he is posing for a Blue Grotto promotional photo with Yours Truly:
Circa 1985, left to right: T. Brown, G. Noble, Grotto editor (look at all the extra hair!), J. Pruett:
Here's Terry in about 1986, probably in the parking lot before a Dead show:
And, finally, here's the birthday boy feeding himself:
George's birthday was January 25th, but we're running a little slow here at Worldwide Headquarters this week. George and I have been pals since September of 1976, in First Grade.
Here he is on Maaatha's Vineyaahd with some actors he hired. Just kidding! The attractive bunch with George is supercool wife Melissa and supercool kids Ryan and Millie, posing for one of the top Christmas cards of '07:
Happy Birthday, Dude!
It pretty much sums up pages and pages of long-winded, frantic Blue Grotto posts on the whole mess of how schools do their best to NOT prepare kids for the real world. Thanks to CFC IV.
Rule 1: Life is not fair - get used to it!
Rule 2: The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.
Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.
Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.
Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: they called it opportunity.
Rule 6: If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine about your mistakes, learn from them.
Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.
Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.
Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.
Rule 10: Television is NOT real life. In real life people
actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.
Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one.
Amazing. I've never broken 90 seconds.
Alexis Lemaire has broken the record for finding the 13th root of a 200-digit number. It's an incredibly hard calculation so how does the "human calculator" do it?
Fancy yourself as a bit of mental arithmetics buff, one of those who relishes totting up the bill after a restaurant meal for 12, one of those who looks down their nose at calculator users?
Well try this for size.
The task is to find the 13th root of 85,877,066,894,718,045,
The answer's 2396232838850303. Multiply that by itself 13 times and you get the above. Even with a calculator you wouldn't beat Alexis Lemaire doing the calculation in his head.
"It is quite difficult. I did a lot of preparation for this. More than four years of work and a lot of training every day. A lot of memorising. I need three things - calculating, memorising and the third on mathematical skills. It is a lot of work and maybe a natural gift."
There is a long-standing fascination with those who can accomplish astounding feats of mental agility. The "ordinary" human wants to know how, but sadly the geniuses and the savants can only offer fragments of insight into how they function, and the scientists who have studied them rarely offer a definitive answer.
Researchers have tried to link problems with the brain either through trauma or malformation to extraordinary mental abilities - one of the theories being that damage to one area prompts compensation in another. Brain scientist Dr Allan Snyder has suggested that everyone may possess such abilities but be unable to access them.
Kim Peek, the inspiration for Dustin Hoffman's character in the movie Rain Man, has a malformed brain and a below average IQ and yet is able to rapidly read books, memorising vast swaths of information.
|I have these associations between places and numbers - some places are imaginary, I try to vary so I don't confuse the numbers |
"When I think of numbers sometimes I see a movie, sometimes sentences. I can translate the numbers into words. This is very important for me. The art is to convert memory chunks into some kind of structure.
"I see images, phrases, actions. It's very tactile, sensitive. I have these associations between places and numbers. Some places are imaginary, I try to vary so I don't confuse the numbers. It's important to memorise. I have to be precise."
Lemaire's explanation is similar to that of British savant Daniel Tammet. Tammet set the world record for reciting pi at more than 22,000 digits at the museum in 2004.
To him, each number has a distinct colour and appearance, some beautiful, some not, with each complex calculation making up a landscape.
Icelandic in a week
But his skills also stretch to words, with Tammet having reportedly learned Icelandic in a week after a challenge.
It's safe to assume that Lemaire's brain processes don't involve the words "carry one". But there is an explanation for some of what he does. The memorisation he talks about is a series of algorithms, such as a set to tackle the first five digits of the 200-digit number.
He has refined these processes to mind-boggling lengths. For the much simpler calculation the 13th root of a 100-digit number, the first record was set at 23 minutes in 1970. Now Lemaire can manage the calculation in under four seconds.
And whatever the mental processes that lead him to the answer, the fact that he can do this in seconds and without pen or paper remains awesome to the "ordinary" brain.
Little Anthony Gargiula nails the National Anthem! It's a little more impressive than that time when Carl Lewis sang it a number of years back. Thanks to Monique B. (the former Monique R.) for this:
Click on this link:
Thanks to CFC IV:
. . . with a little help from the weirdest house in all of L.A. Anyone who lives in L.A. knows of this house over in Hollywood on Beverly Blvd. It is a strange white house with about two dozen replicas of Michaelangelo's David sculpture arrayed across the front of the property. You can't see it in the photo, but the owner also has his Mercedes, SUV, and other family cars custom painted in a shockingly awful puke-orange.
Anyway, Terry and Monique sent along this pic of Mo striking a pose with new "Black Santa" Christmas decorations propped up on top of the Davids. Go figure.
Longtime crony Mr. J. L. Grant celebrates a birthday today. Happy Birthday, Luke! Not only were Luke and I housemates senior year at Georgetown (along with Sr. Juan Seitz and assorted other characters), but we also lived together in the most sought-after building in all of Manhattan from 1993-1996: The Colorado. Located on the "tree-lined streets of the Upper East Side," as the misleading brochure for this all-rental building so eloquently put it, it sat right on the intersection of 86th Street and Third Avenue, which Grotto readers will instantly recognize as one of the lowest-rolling centers of activity in all five boroughs. The building featured apartments on floors 4 through 36, and yes, Luke and I lived in 4C, cementing our status as extra-low-rollers in a building exclusively inhabited by low-rollers.
Here's the Birthday Boy:
My pal Marty M. (Blue Grotto Beverly Hills Bureau Chief) was at baggage claim at LAX recently and spotted a beautiful boxer. You have to understand that Marty is a boxer fanatic. He grew up with a boxer named Webster. When we lived together in college he got us a super-cool brindle boxer puppy named Spanky. Marty now has an old lady of a boxer named Buttercup and a young, supersized male named Rum.
When I lived in L.A. I became very close friends with both Buttercup and Rum. I am proud of my closeness to Buttercup, as she is extremely hostile towards men. It took me a long time to make friends, but we are the best of chums now.
Upon inquiring about the boxer at the airport, Marty found out that he was a famous stud named Bismarck. He sent me a pic from the breeder's website (EncoreBoxers.com).
You may have spotted the dashing bachelor Juan L. Seitz crisscrossing NYC any night of the week, rushing from appearance to appearance to satisfy the demands of his many fans. He's the one in the pleated denim cargo pants, which provide him comfort, mobility, storage space, and an element of attitude and glamour!
Here he is posing with West Coast Grotto friend Merrilee H. and your Editor:
And here he is several hours later.
Seitz: "ML, you've grown tiresome. I'm going to go stand over here with my little crabcake."
Merrilee: "Oh good! Another camera!"
This is where I remind readers to count their blessings. Specifically, the blessing that they do not resemble either illustrious male figure skater Scott Hamilton or smug Fox Sports baseball commentator Joe Buck.
The topic arose today as I involved myself in an email discussion among several Grotto friends about the widespread inclination towards smugness found in so many celebrities and public figures. After I fired off an email to the group complaining about Joe Buck's smugness, Grotto contributor CFC IV responded by saying, and I quote, "Does the fact that he looks exactly like you have anything to do with it?"
When I combine this sad fact with the well-established view that I look like Scott Hamilton, it seems that I am destined to spend the rest of my days on a psychoanalyst's couch, trying to carve out a path for myself despite the heavy burden.
Judge for yourself!
Astronomers Select Top Ten Most Amazing Pictures Taken by Hubble Space Telescope in Last 16 Years .
After correcting an initial problem with the lens, when the Hubble Space Telescope was first launched in 1990, the floating astro-observatory began to relay back to Earth, incredible snapshots of the "final frontier" it was perusing.
Recently, astronomers voted on the top photographs taken by Hubble, in its 16-year journey so far. Remarking in the article from the Daily Mail, reporter Michael Hanlon says the photos "illustrate that our universe is not only deeply strange, but also almost i mpossibly beautiful."
The Sombrero Galaxy - 28 million light years from Earth - was voted best picture taken by the Hubble telescope. The dimensions of the galaxy, officially called M104, are as spectacular as its appearance. It has 800 billion suns and is 50,000 light years across .
The Ant Nebula, a cloud of dust and gas whose technical name is Mz3, resembles an ant when observed using ground-based telescopes. The nebula lies within our galaxy between 3,000 and 6,000 light years from Earth.
In third place is Nebula NGC 2392, called Eskimo because it looks like a face surrounded by a furry hood. The hood is, in fact, a ring of comet-shaped objects flying away from a dying star. Eskimo is 5,000 light years from Earth.
At four is the Cat's Eye Nebula
The Hourglass Nebula, 8,000 light years away, has a pinched-in-the-middle look because the winds that shape it are weaker at the centre.
In sixth place is the Cone Nebula. The part pictured here is 2.5 light years in length (the equivalent of 23 million return trips to the Moon).
The Perfect Storm, a small region i n the Swan Nebula, 5,500 light years away, described as 'a bubbly ocean of hydrogen and small amounts of oxygen, sulphur and other elements'.
Starry Night, so named because it reminded astronomers of the Van Gogh painting. It is a halo of light around a star in the Milky Way.
The glowering eyes from 114 million light years away are the swirling cores of two merging galaxies called NGC 2207 and IC 2163 in the distant Canis Major constellation.
The Trifid Nebula. A 'stellar nursery', 9,000 light years from here, it is
where new stars are being born.
Thanks to Grotto NYC Minister-without-Portfolio CFC IV for forwarding these photos of the best boy of all good boys. This excellent husky sled dog (by the way, the Grotto gives automatic "Good Boy!" status to all "dogs with jobs") makes a new friend.
"Stuart Brown describes Norbert Rosing's striking images of a wild polar bear playing with sled dogs in the wilds of Canada's Hudson Bay."
" . . . The polar bear materialized out of the blue."
"Shortly before, the husky was in a crouched bow with his tail wagging, ready to play."
"The polar bear returned every night that week to play with the dogs."
Grotto Editor-in-Chief and Georgetown pal L.T. attend exciting first game of the American League Championship Series at Fenway Park on Friday night!
We enjoyed a nice dinner beforehand at the EMC Club, where the 2004 World Series trophy is on prominent display.
Then we wandered down to our seats behind the Indians' on-deck circle to settle in. The fans were beside themselves with excitement.
Here we are:
Josh Beckett came through, as usual:
Here's Manny, the most relaxed athlete in all of sports:
Fortunately, Indians ace C.C. Sabathia had a terrible night:
Mike Lowell, winner of Grotto's "Most Reliable RBI Machine" award:
Varitek trying to explain to the disappointing, formerly-great Gagne that the goal is to NOT load the bases every chance you get:
The Washington Times
By Barker Davis
October 14, 2007
Georgetown consummated the most impressive recruiting weekend in school history by garnering a commitment yesterday from Greg Monroe, the consensus No. 1 high school senior in the nation.
Monroe, a 6-foot-10, 225-pound power forward from metro New Orleans, was the most coveted gem among a cast of 15 blue-chip prospects who visited Georgetown this weekend in conjunction with the school's Midnight Madness festivities. Monroe was scheduled to make official visits to Texas next weekend and Duke on Oct. 28 but likely will cancel both trips in the wake of his weekend on the Hilltop.
"He sat down with his mother [yesterday] morning and told her Georgetown was where he wanted to be," said Tyron Mouzon, Monroe's coach at Helen Cox High School in Harvey, La. "He felt so comfortable up there that he committed to coach John Thompson III on the spot and said he wasn't going to take any more visits."
Each morning I dart downstairs and retrieve a little plastic bag from the front stoop that contains my Wall Street Journal and Financial Times. Last week I was tearing these excellent gazettes from their plastic baggy when a special bonus daily tumbled out:
I think I may be getting a complimentary subscription in recognition of my many years of loyal patronage to Greek diners in NYC (the Viand at 86th and Second, still the greatest diner in Manhattan, the Palace Restaurant on 57th between Park and Lex, Neil's Coffee Shop at 70th and Lex) and to Nick's Roast Beef right here on the Naath Shaah.
I wonder how many front page photos in a given year feature Greek Orthodox priests. . . . Probably more than a few.
Note: Once I finished perusing it, I gave the paper to the folks at Nick's. They laughed and told me they all get it already. Seriously.
As faithful Grotto readers know, the Editorial Board dispatches affiliated operatives on a regular basis to document goings-on in the most exclusive circles of entertainment, business, politics, and sports.
I present here some photos that have ended up in the possession of the Grotto Sports Dept.
Red Sox Celebrate Division Title!
Mike Lowell pouring cocktails:
Jonathan Papelbon works the mike:
Rookie phenom Dustin Pedroia and error-free Kevin Youkilis serve up the drinks:
Josh Beckett (top) and Jason Varitek (bottom):
Clay Buckholtz takes a break from doing yardwork or operating the woodchipper to have a shot:
Alex Cora, Josh Beckett, Mike Lowell:
Ace reliever Hideki Okajima deciding whether he needs to relieve himself:
Pedroia wearing his favorite Holiday Inn t-shirt:
Pedroia loves being on the Red Sox:
Varitek trying to decide between a fastball down the middle or an offspeed pitch:
Mssrs. T. Brown and J. Falvey settled comfortably into their high-rolling seats yesterday in Anaheim to watch Big Papi and Manny homer back-to-back in the 4th to start an avalanche of runs.
Here are the photos submitted to the Grotto's Sports Department:
J. Falvey and T. Brown: