Dear readers, these are the things that keep me up at night:

• The St. Louis Cardinals
• Erin Andrews (click *here* to see why — Yum!)
• The destruction of our environment (click *here* to join me in my mission)
• Wal-Marts, Super Wal-Marts, and Super Wal-Marts Beijing Style
• Erin Andrews in a sexy bathing suit
• Flashbacks of the Malarchuk injury
• Jesse Jackson getting his n***s cut off — ooh, did I say that? Whoops. Hot mic! Hot mic!
• Bill O’Reilly
• Erin Andrews in a sexy bathing suit making out with Lucy Liu who just so happens to be wearing a leather body suit while wielding a whip
• White people

With all of these sensitive and sensitive subjects on my mind, I was grateful that my memory recounted a comment that was posted here at RSBS several months ago:

“When I need a nap, I usually tune in to a Sox broadcast. Hawk and DJ
work better than a handful of ambien and a bottle of Jack. Their actual
commentary goes beyond irritating, yet their vocal tones could induce a
coma.”
– by waltcproductions@yahoo.com on April 23, 2008, The Melky Man

Now it’s no secret that I follow the Sox very closely.  And I have admitted here before that at times, even I, Fulbright Scholar that I am, find Ken “the Hawk” Harrelson and Darrin “DJ” Jackson’s over-the-top homerisms amusing; but if I really want to enjoy the game from start to finish, I turn on the radio and let Ed Farmer and Steve Stone call a sound game. 

But it has been a long week, folks.  Still recovering from myriad things I can’t remember from the 4th of July weekend and endlessly troubled by the aforementioned list of sleep-stoppers, I decided to take waltcproductions’ advice and turned the sound up on the television. 

The Sox were in Kansas City to face the Royals.  Buehrle v. Greinke.  Potential for a pitcher’s duel.  It was… though I wouldn’t have known it.

I nestled into my couch without a beer in my hand — shockingly, for the first time this month — and made sure I was comfortable enough to accept sleep if it so decided to fall upon my eyes.  It did.  I remember my lids getting heavy around the bottom of the second; Hawk and DJ were — surprise! — rehashing the ‘old days’ by talking about their .239 and .257 career batting averages, respectively.  I remember thinking, ‘Gee, I’ve heard them say that before… about a thousand times…’

…but I was already long lost in a blissful land of somniferous slumber.

I woke up in the bottom half of the 8th to the roaring crowd of 29 people at Kauffman Stadium cheering on their Royals who had suddenly taken a lead, which inspired Hawk to grunt one of his trademark utterances: “Doggone it!”

Immediately, I hit ‘mute’, turned on the radio and listened to Stoney explain how a Konerko error combined with a less than Dotel outing for Octavio Dotel turned a brilliant Buehrle performance into a loss for the Sox. 

Lovely.

At least I got some sleep.

You can hate Hawk and DJ, but don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeffy