Ugh, what happened to Heroes? I’ll confess I’m like two and half episodes behind for this current season but there’s been nothing this far to even remotely interest me. Storylines ranges from painful to merely tolerable. Gone is the engaging narrative, fast pace and big chapter cliffhangers, replaced with total storytelling misfires.

The illegal alien oil-crying super-twins? TV death.

Matt Parkman and Mohinder Suresh channeling Greg Evigan and Paul Reiser? Harsh.

Amnesia Peter who can throw jukeboxes with his mind but can’t figure out a way to steal a box from a petty Irish criminal? 24-levels of plot inanity.

Claire pissing and moaning again about how unfair her father is and how she can’t be herself in school? Been there done that.

And finally, Hiro in feudal Japan? A total breakdown in compelling writing.

It seems the poor final stretch last season has carried over into the sophomore slump. Alas. Maybe I’ll get around to checking out these last couple of episodes, but they’ll have to be stellar to get me back on board a quickly sinking ship.

Erich: I’ve got to agree, Dave. As much as I loved and looked forward to Heroes all last season, watching this year has become a chore. I find myself starting an episode, but stopping after a half hour and finishing it up on TiVo later in the week—mostly because I feel like I “should,” not because I want to. The storylines are all ho-hum so far, besides a brief blip of interest after Molly fell under the Bad Man’s spell and Parkman/Petrelli went in search of him. As much as Dave and I love Veronica Mars, Kristen Bell’s character is a complete non-starter, and the plot holes are getting so big I’m afraid someone’s going to fall in. I won’t say much about last week’s episode, except that the “shocking” final few minutes seemed to read awfully familiar ground.

Besides the still-awesome Reaper (and Thursdays on NBC), Lost’s February return can’t come soon enough.

Put away the Pepto. Toss the Tums. Burn your lucky rabbit’s foot ’cause this Nation (Curse-Free Since ‘04) is in full-on party mode. They took the first two at home, then the Red Sox, on the road with a couple ‘a starting question marks (a guy who’s pitching tends to be as shaky as his English, and a post season first timer), came out to Denver and finished the job, winning the last two the way they won the first: a blowout followed by a one-run nailbiter.

With his last two starts, Dice-K changed from money pit to money ball—a frustrating season spent in search of the American League strike zone erased with a clutch performance in Game 7 vs. the Indians, and an inspiring Game 3 against the Colorado Kids. Staying out there longer than he had in his previous postseason starts, the Dice Man gave his team a fighting chance—holding a lead the bullpen nearly blew before the BoSox bats got their second wind and slammed the door on the Rocky Mountain Rally.

Three and oh, and with a series sweep in reach, young Jon Lester (inactive since mid-September) pitched his heart out, with five-plus shutout innings, keeping the Rocks at bay while the Sox chipped away. Even a late-inning homer against a tired Okajima (making it a one-run game) merely forestalled the inevitable celebration as Papelbon and his icy stare did what he’s done all postseason: get dudes out. The final one came on a swinging strike, and once more, the people rejoiced. Was this win as sweet as the one in ‘04? Maybe not, but that’s just crazy rambling from a spoiled fan who takes things like this for granted. It’s still a big deal to see your team win it all, even when it looks like the other team didn’t put up much of a fight. The Sox beat a couple great teams in the final rounds of this road to victory, and (sitting on the winner’s side) we can all magnanimously say the young Rockies will only get better, and here’s hoping to a rematch in ‘08.

Are the Sox the new Yankees? Or is that the stuff of sports journalist sensationalism? Sure, the Sox are big spenders who just won their second Series in four seasons, and they have the second highest payroll in the Bigs (that sure ain’t gonna win you any fans beyond the border), but besides big money/big trade acquisitions like Beckett, Schilling, and MVP Lowell (a player the Sox need to re-sign, if only to avoid the temptation of the Evil One Scott Boras), the future of this team (and a bright future it is indeed) belongs to homegrown young players like Youk, Papelbon, Lester, Buchholz, and household favorite Ellsbury (I’m proud to say we saw his Major League debut—the bright spot in a loss to the Rangers at Fenway). As New England sports fans bask in the glow of a Red Sox sweep, yawning as we wait in bored expectation for the perfect Patriots to roll past the Colts next Sunday, it’s hard not to wonder whether, by not losing, we’ve lost part of what makes being a Boston fan special. No more pathos, no more underdogs, no more sympathy. It’s the kind of thinking that’ll make you sad for about a nanosecond until you remember that the Red Sox won, and the flailing Yankees (who can add A-Rod to the list of ex-Yanks…a list that is sure to grow) are nowhere in sight!

Thank you Tito. Thank you players, and coaches, and hot dog vendors… and may we fans never take what it means to win a world (that’s right, Europe, you heard me!) championship for granted. And, as they say over at the Original Red Sox podcast and around a smiling Nation:

Go Sox!

Two up, two down. A wildly different game from the night before (when I packed it in early and let TiVo finish the game for me the next morning). I was there for the final pitches, and what pitches they were! Schilling may have given the fans a few scares in the first, but he settled down enough to keep things close for The Mighty Oak and Mr. Riverdance to slam the door (including a beautiful pick-off to get Matt “On A” Holliday at first). A huge game to be sure—as the much admired boys over at the Original Red Sox Podcast put it, a must win for both teams.

Fortunately it was a W for the Sox, who rocket up into the stratosphere for Game 3. Will Manny and the Jets be little Danny in the Coors field’s Overlook Hotel (”Gimme the bat, Marge!”), or will they find themselves on a Rocky Mountain High? The Colorado Kids still have an excellent chance, at home, to turn the Rockies into Rocky and knock out the AL’s Apollo Creed.

Three games away from the comforting shadow of the Big Bright Green Pleasure Machine. Can Big B break the Rocks? or will the Purple Kids leave the Sox black and blue? And the question on the minds of a nervous Nation: Who’s on first?

All this and more on Saturday night! Don’t turn your clocks back this week, folks. It’s baseball time!

Go Sox!

After a much pontificated-about eight days of rest, it seems the sweep-happy Colorado Rockies hit a bright green wall. Behind MVP-for-life Josh Beckett, the BoSox offense put up 13 runs, beating the Colorado Kids by a World Series record 12. What a way to start the Series! Sure, it could all go downhill from here (things tend to be a little too magical with Beckett on the mound), but for at least one glorious night the steady rain seemed to evaporate on contact with the red-hot bats of the (fingers crossed) Championship-bound Red Sox.

Over the last four games, the Red Sox have outscored their opponents 43-6, making them seem more like the Patriots than the Idiots. Here’s hoping the ride will last, and that the 10+ run games (the past three setting another postseason record) roll on.

Tonight it’s Schilling v. Jiminez, and anything can happen. Lest the Rocks’ Little League appearance last night lull a grateful Nation to complacent sleep, there’s every chance the Boys Sans Sleeves will win Game 2 and send the series split into the Rocky Mountain night. They’ve only lost twice in their last 23 games. Let’s just say their manager’s not the only Hurdle we need to overcome.

Until that ring’s on our pretty little finger, I’ll stay cautiously optimistic. But, hey! The Sox Slaughtered The Rockies in Game One! Let’s party!

Go Sox!

Wow, Season 7 may not suck.

It’s come to this: my beloved and ever-resilient Red Sox are taking on the Mile High Juggernaut Colorado Rockies in the World Series, and Game 1 is tonight, at Beantown’s historic Fenway Park.

After replaying 2004’s round one broom-broom-broom over the California Anaheim Los Angeles Angels, the Sox bounced back against a very good (now very sad) Cleve-town ball club in seven sometimes-glorious games to end up in the Series for the second time in four seasons.

The Rockies may have beat up on the big one-two punch of Beckett and Schilling in June (at Fenway), but I doubt it’ll go as badly for the BoSox frontline this time around—at least I hope it won’t. One curse of being a Red Sox fan is having almost no confidence in any starting pitcher (cough-Dice K) unless he’s named Pedro (at least prior to Game 7 ought-three) but Beckett has earned the trust of a grateful nation. Schill’ is a good ‘un, and more than able to shut down even the potent Colorado offense, but I’ve seen him blow enough games to make me at least a little nervous about Game 2.

After that, it’s anybody’s guess.

We’re in enemy territory, in a big ballpark with Denver’s thin air; Dice-K, despite a decent start Sunday night, is a big ol’ “?”; and sans DH in the National League park, it’s looking like Tito’s Choice is gonna be between Papi and Youk. The silver lining to the dark cloud of Tim Wakefield being left off the roster due to an ailing shoulder is that, as much as I love the guy, Wake hasn’t been pitching great lately, and as unhittable as his knuckleball can be, it can also be very hittable, as witnessed in a monster 7-run inning for the Indians back in Game 4. Jon Lester, who’s projected to take his spot in the upcoming Game 4, is unseasoned, sure, but he’s a good pitcher and could easily come out and give the Sox a big game. Sometimes you gotta embrace uncertainty.

Despite the late start times that guarantee I won’t get to bed until well after midnight for at least four nights, it should be a great series. I’ll try to come back after each game and post some thoughts (unless I’m too depressed). Until then, if you want to enhance your Sox Series experience, check out the Original Red Sox Podcast (a really great show), and put the Dropkick Murphy’s “Tessie” on repeat ’til Beckett’s first pitch tonight.

Go Sox!

Yeah, I know our TV season week one coverage dropped off the map after two days, and I wish I had a good excuse. I started another post, but by the time I thought about revisiting it, it was wildly out of date. I have to admit, for all the excitement I came into the new season with, this fall has been pretty underwhelming. There’s good stuff, to be sure, but in all, without a Lost or Veronica Mars on schedule, there’s nothing I don’t feel comfortable handing off to our TiVo until I have the time to catch up. Speaking of catching up…

Mondays: Heroes keeps on trucking, and I’m enjoying it (though I haven’t watched last night’s ep yet, so keep it spoiler free for now!). There’s a general feeling of setting up the season story, and everyone’s starting to come together in interesting ways. A lot of “homages” going on, though—especially Hiro McFly making sure his parents Kensei and the beautiful maiden get together at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance. Now that Sulu’s dead, I’m glad to see Uhura making an appearance. I guess they’re holding onto Shatner for sweeps (HRG’s dad, perhaps?).

We still like How I Met Your Mother, and I recommend it, though it feels a little episodic and listless. I hope they introduce “mom” soon. Chuck is a bit of a head-scratcher: it’s generally good, though because it (unintentionally) has so much in common with Reaper (see Tuesdays), it pales in comparison. The spy stuff is kinda fun, and Chuck is a likable guy, but I think its airing on NBC at 8:00 means they play it a little safe. Oh, and Morgan is really getting on my nerves. The clingy BFF/office-wife (thanks 30 Rock!) thing is pretty creepy.

Tuesdays: Filed under “close the blinds so the neighbors don’t see” TV, my wife and I are faithfully keeping up with Beauty and the Geek. No early favorite so far, but last week’s elimination was no surprise. At least now the house can settle down sans William The Tactless and the icky Sam/Rebecca PDA-athon.

Still loving the best new show of the season (not much competition, but still): Reaper. “Sock” is the sidekick Chuck’s Morgan wishes he is, and Ray Wise continues to make Satan seem less like the soul-sucking perverter of good he is. The one-off stories have been good, though hopefully they’ll break out into some new territory soon. There’s danger of repetitive distress disorder. It’s only been three weeks, though, and I know I’ll continue to watch as long as CW sticks with the show.

Wednesdays: The only thing keeping me from digitally removing Wed. from all of my calendars until February is ABC’s Pushing Daisies, a relative latecomer that continues the season of quirk with the strangest premise yet: Ned the piemaker can raise the dead with a touch, but only for a minute lest another drop dead to maintain cosmic balance; oh, and if he touches the alive-again a second time, they die, this time for good. In the first episode, Ned brings his murdered childhood sweetheart, a girl named Chuck, back to life and keeps her that way, setting up a series-long romance of figuring out ways for our lovebirds not to touch. The show is populated with colorful characters, from Ned’s private eye partner who knits when he’s nervous to Chuck’s cheese-loving aunts. Jim Dale’s narration (he’s the brilliant voice of the Harry Potter audio books) ties it all together, and makes me wish, in part, that this were a series of books in the vein of Mr. Potter or Mr. Snicket rather than a TV show.

Thursdays: All NBC all the time (except for Survivor: China, whose UFC-style challenges have become so violent I’m convinced someone will die this season). The season began with hour-long episodes of My Name is Earl and The Office, my favorite of the Thursday comedies. 30 Rock (a show I missed last season but will be watching this year) is back in place, and Scrubs is on the horizon. Earl gets points for managing to take last year’s twist (Earl gets sentenced to two years in the clink for a crime his ex-wife committed) and make prison seems like a viable place for Mr. Hickey to do his karmic good. The Office, on the other hand, has had a bit of a slow start. Michael feels cornered by new boss Ryan’s attempt to modernize the little paper company that could, so he’s been acting out, and acting weird—trying to justify hitting Meredith with his car, driving the rental car into a lake, and kidnapping a pizza boy, so far. Michael is best when he’s sympathetically oblivious. Lately he’s been hard to root for.

Dwight, meanwhile, seems creepier than ever, thanks to his mercy-killing of Angela’s cat by putting it, alive, in her freezer. Their strained relationship, and Dwight’s sour mood are a counterpoint to Jim and Pam’s sunny relationship. I love seeing them together. I just hope they can bring the general mood around the office up to general dissatisfaction instead of open hostility. Though making the first episodes last an hour instead of thirty minutes sounded like a great idea, so far it hasn’t helped. Several scenes and storylines went on longer than they should have, and I fear having to fill a full sixty is partly to blame.

But, heck, The Office is still funnier than anything else on TV, and last week’s episode, “Launch Party” (or is it “Lunch Party”?), was pretty much back to form. I have the utmost faith in the show’s writers and cast. Despite its (relatively) shaky start, The Office is worth looking forward to, week after week, if only for exchanges like the following:

Michael (after telling Ryan he hit Meredith with his car): It was on company property, with company property, so…double jeopardy. We’re fine.

Ryan: Michael, that’s not how jeopardy works.

Michael: Sorry… What is “we’re fine.”