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.