I am. Last year it was kinda funny. Ha ha. The Giants suck. So what if he was my favorite A since Ricky? If his Metrodome Masterpeice was one of my all-time best sports moments (along with the US Olymplic Team's "Miracle on Ice" -- yeah -- I was a kid and had no idea about how ideological forces would twist this into something it wasn't -- UCLA over Gonzaga two March Madnesses ago -- three of those kids were students of mine, if you're wondering -- Baron F'ing Davis last year against the Mavs, Sammy White back in the day, Stew beating Clemens, etc, etc)? He deserved it, you say? I don't care. Clearly, you've been drinking Meyer lemon-gin martinis? Ok -- fair enough. But that curve, that beautiful curve -- striking out Vlad over and over. Vlad who could hit anything out of the park? Curses upon you, I say! I'm mourning my sports hero. He's dead. You're almost forty gosh-derned years old, you say? Well, so what? You're stupid and ugly, and you don't care about half-assed Zen-inspired Zito quotes on the sports page. He often said things that almost seemed brilliant. It wasn't always, "I'm was trying to be too fine," as some of you Z-hatahs would have it. Sometimes he said shit like, the leaves in the wind were of different colors, and that made me lose a little of the movement on my "fast"ball. Ok. He never said that, But you know what I mean. In any case, I'm mourning the death of FIZito. Fare thee well. May angels of mercy sing you to your incredibly rich sleep.