Adios 2008

It's been busy of late, almost too busy, although let's be clear about one thing. In these uncertain times, better busy than the alternative. Clearly, mannymontaigne has suffered from neglect. And how unfortunate that I haven't had time to hate on the Yankees for spending half the New York State deficit just to sign three ballplayers. I know, I know; it's all about putting people in those seats, but once Hank gets his fancy new digs, will there be anyone left in New York who can even afford a luxury box? I wonder if Lehman, or Bear Stearns (bunch of bitches, to quote the RZA), or Marc Dreier were among those whose seats will sit empty?

It was a troubling year in many many ways, but on the sports page, it was another year to look back on fondly. The boys were home last weekend, and we saw the Phins beat the Jets, and Pennington outplay Favre, right in front of the home town crowd in Giants stadium. First Dolphins playoff appearance in several years, and a remarkable turnaround from 2007. But as the final seconds ran down, Mike and John remarked that we've had quite a run since 2003. Melo, Papi, KG, Pedroia. Here are some of the year's favorite moments, in no particular order at all.

My favorite game of any kind all year long was Game Six of the NBA finals, when the C's totally embarrassed Kobe and the Lakers. This was not one of those nerve wracking games that came down to the final shot, or the bottom of the ninth, or any of that drama. This game was over at half-time; but the Celtics kept pouring it on until the very end. The lead was up to forty, and all the fans were standing, and screaming at the top of their lungs. Meanwhile Sasha Vujabitch was throwing a tantrum on the bench. John replayed the KG post-game interview for me; it's on youtube, and it's one of the all-time great stream of consciousness rants.

And just to show that we maintain balance in our loyalties, most of us (maybe not Mike) would rank Tyree's miracle catch among the year's best moments. Syracuse kid makes an indelible mark on the NFL's collective memory, allowing the Giants to complete their improbable run to the title, and keeping the Pats from going 19-0. All those old Dolphin geezers had to wait until Super Bowl Sunday to pop the annual bottle of champagne, which is opened only when the last undefeated team falls.

And although it didn't lead to a championship, how about Game Five of the ALCS, when the Sox came back from the brink of elimination, down seven runs with only seven outs left in the game? Even without a World Series title, 2008 was a pretty good baseball year: The emergence of Jon Lester as the team's stopper, leaving us hopeful for the future when Beckett, Lester and Dice-K can anchor the rotation. Won't that be nice? Pedroia winning the MVP; Youk not far behind; and Lowrie coming into his own. This year reminded us all of the need to stay healthy, as the Sox were a bit too banged up to get past the Rays. But if they're healthy in 2009, it should make for another good year.

So let's not forget that 2008 was also memorable for the Yankees' failure to make the post-season, in their first year without Torre. Did I mention that his Dodgers did make the post-season? Now just how stupid does Hank Steinbrenner look about that move? For years we've been cheering, "Yankees suck", but that was only a matter of opinion. Not in 2008. In 2008 it was a fact: the Yankees sucked. And any sports year when both the Yankees and Notre Dame suck is a good year in my book.

And that leaves us with the highlight of the fall, the Haters Ball, made all the more enjoyable because the Yankees' failure meant that it was a free dinner for John and me. Not only was the food free, but we had the best whisky of the entire year that night. Port Ellen; Edradour Ballechin; Talisker 25; Rosebank (always Rosebank); Bladnoch. Are you kidding me? Right there I've mentioned three whiskies from distilleries that are now mothballed. Three hard to find fabulous malts in one night? "Is this heaven?" No, it's Keens.

I haven't even mentioned Barack 44, or the return of the Orange to the top twenty. How about Rautins and Devo shooting the lights out tonight, and the Cuse hitting the century mark in its conference opener? High expectations are starting to build; I just hope PH didn't get hurt too badly tonight.

So that's all I can remember right now. I invite all the readers to add their own favorite moments. And I'll try to get back into the habit of posting regularly. That's my first resolution for the New Year. Peace.

Rosebank Revisited, Yet Again

The boys were home for Thanksgiving, and what with eating twenty-four seven, and traveling into the Cuse to see the Orange come from behind and beat Virginia, thus earning entry into the national rankings, and dining at the Chophouse, and feasting at Danny’s, where we drank slivovitz from Oregon (Can it really be slivovitz if it doesn’t taste like gasoline?), there was no time to post.

Looking back on the last couple weeks, it’s hard to know exactly where to start. How about that contract the Sox gave Pedroia to lock him up for next six years? Or what about our newest phenom from the land of the rising sun, Tazawa? Well, we have at least three months until spring training starts – plenty of time to catch up on the Sox. So if we’re not talking baseball, let’s take a few minutes to talk whisky.

When John arrived home the night before Thanksgiving, we opened one of the Rosebanks we picked up at Federal last summer. This was a 14 year old, distilled in 1990, and bottled by Gordon & MacPhail as Connoisseurs Choice. Forty percent. A nice representative Rosebank. Beautiful floral nose; soft but flavorful, with just a hint of spice, like there was just one peppercorn in the bottom of the glass, giving the malt a tiny bit of a bite. All these Rosebanks are the same, even if they’re a tiny bit different. It’s hard to believe that this distillery was closed, such a shame that it couldn’t have hung on for another few years, until the single malt craze kicked in. John says we shouldn’t hoard Rosebank, or any of the other disappearing malts for that matter. And so, tonight, even though the boys are not at home, and even though we typically save Rosebank for momentous occasions, like the Celtics’ demolition of the Lakers in Game Six last June, I poured myself a dram, solely to be able to describe this whisky for posterity, here on MannyMontaigne. We’ve got one more Rosebank down in the basement, and we’ll have to think hard about when it might be appropriate to crack that one.

Last night Danny and I, along with a few other whisky lovers, went to a Wild Turkey tasting, at which their master distiller, Jimmy Russell, spoke. Danny and I aren’t really bourbon lovers, but we had to admit that we drank some pretty good bourbon, along with a glass of Wild Turkey Rye. One interesting thing about the bourbon –the prices topped out at the level where the scotch prices start. So for thirty dollars, or even less, you can get a pretty darn good bottle of Kentucky Bourbon, and support the domestic economy while you’re at it. One funny thing about the tasting that we could not figure out. We had six glasses in front of us, and five guys at our table, and when the evening was done, I think there were two glasses that had anything left, about a tablespoon of liquid altogether. But up front, there were two tables where all the glasses looked full at the end of the evening. What the hell were those guys doing all night?

Finally, G-Man wrote to say that he found some kind of a single malt gold mine in Jersey. I won’t steal his thunder too much, but I’d like him to supply the various details in a comment. The only unfortunate thing is that G found this store after I just went to Jersey. I mean, Ballechin? Rosebank? Are you kidding me? Anyway, now that I’m not partying with the boys every night, I’ll try to keep things more up to date.