You know, Gardy is smarter sometimes than I give him credit for. I wanted to rip him for wasting Perk in a non-save situation, but he's looking ahead to tomorrow's Tanaka/Correia matchup, and realizing he ain't gonna need Perk tomorrow. Giving Perk a little work tonight is the right move.

 

Yeah... Not playing Pinto aside. He probably knows a few things. Like... How to toast pop tarts and what not to say to his wife on certain days... When his next oil change is.

Nice way to start the series.

 

Concur.

Nice way to start the series.

 

Yeah, nobody I like beating better than the Yankees...especially there.

Yay

You know, Gardy is smarter sometimes than I give him credit for. I wanted to rip him for wasting Perk in a non-save situation, but he's looking ahead to tomorrow's Tanaka/Correia matchup, and realizing he ain't gonna need Perk tomorrow. Giving Perk a little work tonight is the right move.

 

I don't know - it is possible we will only be up by 2 going into the 9th tomorrow.

Yeah... Not playing Pinto aside. He probably knows a few things. Like... How to toast pop tarts and what not to say to his wife on certain days... When his next oil change is.

 

Easy...every three miles or 3000 months, whichever comes first.

Good Day and night today!!!

Is it time to stop fearing the Yankees? (We won't count tomorrow, given the match-up). At least as long as SpiritofVodkaDave doesn't go to the games (he's the one with the terrible track record, far worse than mine).

I don't know - it is possible we will only be up by 2 going into the 9th tomorrow.

 

No, I meant...

 

Yeah, you're right.

Good Day and night today!!!

 

I should go to bed right now... before... I don't know... My wife tells me about her day.

My Mom calls me. I tell her the Twins are killing the Yankees. She says, well why didn't you call me and tell me, and hangs up.

i had a similar experience.

 

Bottom of the 9th, one out, my wife walks into the living room and says "Holy Crap! We're gonna best the Yankees, that never happens"

Physical Therapist

When I was a little kid, Mayo physicians told my mom she would never walk again after a terrible car accident that nearly claimed her life. In their defense, they were not aware of how rapidly PT had advanced and what it was capable of.

 

But decades later, with the aid of a cane, true grit that would make Rooster blush, and months of intensive, sometimes excruciating PT, she has worn out a boatload of shoes doing what the best doctors in the world said she couldn't.

 

So tell your son congratulations from some random goofball on the internet. Or maybe leave out the random and the goofball. He's your kid, you decide. And congrats to you too.

When I was a little kid, Mayo physicians told my mom she would never walk again after a terrible car accident that nearly claimed her life. In their defense, they were not aware of how rapidly PT had advanced and what it was capable of.

 

But decades later, with the aid of a cane, true grit that would make Rooster blush, and months of intensive, sometimes excruciating PT, she has worn out a boatload of shoes doing what the best doctors in the world said she couldn't.

 

So tell your son congratulations from some random goofball on the internet. Or maybe leave out the random and the goofball. He's your kid, you decide. And congrats to you too.

 

Thanks I will.

 

That's a great story... I love good endings like that... Just another example of how Mom's Rock.

When I was a little kid, Mayo physicians told my mom she would never walk again after a terrible car accident that nearly claimed her life. In their defense, they were not aware of how rapidly PT had advanced and what it was capable of.

 

But decades later, with the aid of a cane, true grit that would make Rooster blush, and months of intensive, sometimes excruciating PT, she has worn out a boatload of shoes doing what the best doctors in the world said she couldn't.

 

So tell your son congratulations from some random goofball on the internet. Or maybe leave out the random and the goofball. He's your kid, you decide. And congrats to you too.

 

That says a lot about your Mom too. I owe a pretty big debt to a couple of physical therapists myself.

When I was a little kid, Mayo physicians told my mom she would never walk again after a terrible car accident that nearly claimed her life. In their defense, they were not aware of how rapidly PT had advanced and what it was capable of.

 

But decades later, with the aid of a cane, true grit that would make Rooster blush, and months of intensive, sometimes excruciating PT, she has worn out a boatload of shoes doing what the best doctors in the world said she couldn't.

 

So tell your son congratulations from some random goofball on the internet. Or maybe leave out the random and the goofball. He's your kid, you decide. And congrats to you too.

I've had the love/hate relationship with my PT for 30 years. The hard work that those men and women have put into helping me as as an amputee has been invaluable. PT is a b***h, but without it and those people, I would be a "cripple". Instead I feel that I am a happy, successful person. For me it is work with my prosthetic arm, that becomes all new every year or two. It's not as profound as mobility, but my life has been enriched by improved articulation technology and improved kinesiology techniques, both of which are implemented in my life by the folks who coach and work with me in physical therapy.

Not exactly Hughesian efficiency or elusiveness (more Gibsonian, really), but Nolasco got the job done against the team that is scissors to the Twins' paper...

Now that you mention it, my mom was singing the praises of her physical therapist just tonight.

Nolasco allows almost two baserunners per inning and only gives up one run? Witchcraft.

http://notablemusic.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/tumblr_m1k62cHksq1r7uiu5o1_5001.jpg

Wicked, or...

That means lucky, right?

 

http://americancowboy.com/sites/default/files/Tombstone%20shot%202-1_0.jpg

 

OK... now I want to watch Tombstone