journo-porn has struck again, this time in the Red Sox clubhouse.
"So much for wearing these clothes home," [manager Terry] Francona cracked, the beer-and-champagne mix dripping down his bald head, into his eyes, past his chin, and onto the red underclothes that he still wore.
But that was nothing compared to the double dose of champagne Theo Epstein took from Schilling and Papelbon, an explosion of the sticky liquid sending him shooting across the clubhouse floor…
I commend the author, Amalie Benjamin, on her impressive ability to make deadline while typing with only one hand. God knows I could never do that. If I ever got the chance to report from the showers of the women's beach volleyball tour, the only deadline I'd make is the next morning's police blotter — as a victim of sexual assault! Because the women, they cannot resist!
(Thanks to Dan and Mike for the tips!)