The announcer has no interest in a one-on-one with the pitcher.

Jimmy grades them from a B for the Eck to a Z for Lenny Clarke:

... I think Boston was hit with a reality check over the past few months. Even if you are of the opinion that Jerry Remy is mediocre at what he does, "mediocre" is difficult to find in a world where Joe Morgan is considered the gold standard.

I was starting to compile one, but Beth has already put together an Eckersley/English dictionary.

The only ones she's missing are "gas," "punchout" (translates as "strikeout") and some word for "million" that begins with a "b" (grr, I can't remember the word, anybody know?).

Dennis Eckersley is proving to be quite the color commentator for Sox games. If you missed tonight's game, you missed some exuberant lip reading after Youk got hit by a pitch (remember the scene in "A Christmas Story" where Ralphie lets loose with the Big F? Imagine if he'd said the Big S instead) and what is perhaps the best mangling ever of Justin Masterson's last night (he got the "Master" part right, but somehow managed to swap what you use to catch fish for "son"). Couple that with all the discourses on young cheese, paint and gas and you've got quite the parlor game (my wife asked me more than once tonight: "What?