Mike "C." Bucuvalas, in a familiar pensive pose, will host this week.
Mikey B. is nothing if not a quester. A searcher. A restless soul in pursuit of eternal truths such as "Is a Royal Flush good enough to win in Grecoid?" "If Art whines in Hastings but I don't hear him because I'm in Boston, has Art whined?" "Will Bruce Levy ever play again?"
Last week, Mikey took himself to the far away land of Fenway, presumably to discover how a team dealt a losing hand nevertheless manages to win the pot, time after time after time. After time. And again, and again, and again. He intends to apply what he learned tomorrow night at his own field of dreams, 40 Southgate Park.
Geoff Shales will be singing the national anthem at 8:32. The seventh-inning stretch will feature a fly-over by Peter A., fresh from a rubber-chicken dinner in New Rochelle that he must attend, he tells me, "because my chair (artist's interpretation) is being honored."
