The narcissistic bloggeres at Ministry of Minor Perfidy have seen fit to recommend me to their readers. I give a great big salute back: they spend more time analyzing domestic affairs whereas I just complain. They also can generate fun discussion with greater ease.

However, I realized that they made one error in their recommendation: that referring to my "spirited defense of the Anaheim Angels." Yes, I am an Angels fan, that other team from the LA-OC area (kinda like the Clippers). But living in New England for years has morphed me into a different type of fan. I spend hours each week commuting back and forth to different parts of Massachusetts. Along the way I listen to the radio a lot. I hear lots of sports radio. I hear lots of bitching about the Red Sox (and the Yankees). I used to hate both: they were loud and obnoxious at the otherwise more genteel Angels games. All the radio listening has not converted me into a Red Sox fan. Worse: I am a Red Sox critic. I am one of those people who debate every base running decision, every bad call, every pitching change for hours if not days. But I am still not an obnoxious fan--I am just obnoxious., which is much less charming. My recent beef: that the Red Sox and the Yankees would go out of their way to sign Schilling and Brown respectively, two pitchers whose warrantees have expired. (Note to self: don't talk to anyone about baseball. You might get beaten up.