Tidbits from the flurry of Opening Day activity on the Internet

Boston.com photo

Surviving Grady:

And it's in HiDef on NESN. Got a HiDef set? If not, you may want to go out and grab one soon, Colonel. Like on your lunchbreak. This ain't no f--king weenie roast, man. This is Red Sox Opening Day.

Bradford on Baseball:

Terry Francona is 3-4 in Opening Day managerial stints, with Schilling notching all three of the wins.

Keys to the Game:

Most years Jose is merely glad to see Opening Day; he is just happy that the winter is over and his nightly entertainment has emerged bear-like from hibernation. In those years, he is far more like the hunter on the first day of deer season than the smack addict flush with cash from a liquor store robbery and dieing for a fix. He wants baseball, he craves it, but he does not need it to avoid dissent into oblivion.

But not this year. No, this year he needs the saccharine poison of baseball season to drip hurriedly into his veins. This year, it is to him what confession is to the sinner, what nitroglycerin is to the cardiac patient, what Guitar Hero is to Joel Zumaya. It is his salvation, his light.

McSweeney's Internet Tendency:

P.S. I love the fact that Big Papi drove in the first Red Sox run of the regular season. Go Sox!

And, God said, let there be peanuts and hot dogs and overpriced souvenirs and let there be frosty chocolate malts with little wooden spoons that you can buy nowhere else except at this Heaven, which God called a Ballpark.

PLAY BALL!