That's what I am talking about.

Don't hand out the pennants yet. This thing isn't over.

What a great weekend of baseball. After a great rotation of starts for the starters, a solid week of bullpen work and a blast of those timely hits that had been missing, the White Sox are still alive. It wasn't always pretty (see the Yankee series) but the Sox have won 5 of 6 in a stretch that we all knew would be tough and all improtant. Now we are 5 1/2 out of first and 2 ahead for the Wild Card. Uh oh, Detroit.

What an exciting time.

But all is for naught if we don't keep it going. Garland needs to get back to his July numbers. The rest of the staff have to stay away from those July numbers and the offense needs to keep plugging along. This would be a great time to hit our stride. We have to win at least 3 of 4 against the Royals starting tonight. And then, another tough and important stretch starts Friday with Minn, Detroit, and then Minn again. Everything could change drastically (for good or bad) by the end of this month. I love baseball.

Go check out The Palehose Six today and look for the El Farmio cartoon. (Randy, this is for you!) It's a great lampoon of radio broadcaster Ed Farmer. And it makes me miss my old Ed Farmer Quote of the Week blog feature...

In personal White Sox news, my sister and dad went to the game Friday night. I got this brilliant text message from Michelle: "I got Neal's autograph. I cried a little." I laughed out loud. She's had a crush on reliever Neal Cotts for a long time, and now I think her heart is ruined for all other men.

Other News: I have finally named my Fantasy Football team. This is a tough process every year. I've been working hard on it. I'd considered Roethlisberger Helmet, Co., Rex's Gross Men and Mythical Team of Destiny. For awhile, I was going with "Your Mama." I thought it would be funny to see and hear people say stuff like, "Your Mama got beat this weekend" or "Your Mama picked up a running back..."

But in the end, the name of this year's team is officially: PAPA BEAR MALICE.

The only other newsworthy stuff in my life is that I went to Chuck E. Chese this weekend. My Intended was babysitting an 8-year-old who'd been trash talking me for several days that she'd beat me in Skee-Ball. I finally had enough and threw down the gauntlet. When she beat me, I kicked her in the shin and ran away.