BOSTON.COM'S MOST EMAILED FOR THE DAY includes one notable news item from the Bronx.

BASEBALL PLAYERS MIGHT BE THE FUNNIEST OF PRO ATHLETES — but then again, the only sport I really follow is baseball so my theory might be full of crapola. Still, the personalities that make up, say, the NBA and NFL seem to me mostly humorless and/or too full of themselves to say something actually funny as opposed to just buffoonish-ly funny. Of course, Barry Bonds is pretty much the poster boy for "humorless, hyper-competitive, self-important meathead." But then you also have wiseasses like Kevin Millar, goofballs like Manny, clowns like Big Papi and a bunch of other fun-loving guys trying to keep things light over a long season. An interview with Dustin Pedroia in the Globe, while not hilarious, at least shows these guys aren't totally unimaginative dumbass jocks who take everything too seriously.

GLOBE: No marriage proposals?

PEDROIA: There was yesterday! [A woman held up a sign that said] "Pedroia's future wife" and had an arrow pointing down. I was like, "Jeez. This woman must be blind. Poor thing."

A CAT NAMED OSCAR IS THE HARBINGER OF DEATH in an old person's home, according to articles in the Boston Globe and New England Journal of Medicine:

Since he was adopted by staff members as a kitten, Oscar the Cat has had an uncanny ability to predict when residents are about to die. Thus far, he has presided over the deaths of more than 25 residents on the third floor of Steere House Nursing and Rehabilitation Center in Providence, Rhode Island. His mere presence at the bedside is viewed by physicians and nursing home staff as an almost absolute indicator of impending death, allowing staff members to adequately notify families. Oscar has also provided companionship to those who would otherwise have died alone. For his work, he is highly regarded by the physicians and staff at Steere House and by the families of the residents whom he serves.

That sounds nice and all, but I have an alternate theory: I think the cat is killing off the patients one by one and stealing their souls. Why does no one else suspect this?

WATCHING 23-YEAR-OLD JON LESTER PITCH in his first big league start since being treated for cancer wasn't as interesting as watching his parents watching their 23-year-old son pitch in his first big league start since being treated for cancer:

In the third, Sizemore connected for a two-run homer off Lester, who was in trouble again in the fourth.

The Indians loaded the bases with one out but Lester broke Josh Barfield's bat on a comebacker that he bobbled before throwing home to force Garko. With Sizemore back up, Lester's mom, Kathie, couldn't watch as her son battled Cleveland's leadoff hitter.

When Lester finally blew a fastball past Sizemore for strike three to end the threat, his father, John, and Kathie jumped up and pumped their fists in celebration. However, she quickly sat back down and resumed her doubled-up position, seemingly afraid to watch anymore.

THIS JUST OCCURRED TO ME ABOUT THE HULK — the military was probably right in trying to bring that crazy mofo into custody. I mean, that guy was out of control, a serious threat to public safety. Sure, he was misunderstood. But he was a giant, violent, angry green ball of misunderstanding that could smash buildings and swing tanks over his head. So, yeah, let's get the guy some professional help so he can work out his issues — but for god's sake, let's get him that help under federal custody. I don't know why that didn't occur to me when I was a kid. Or maybe it's yet another sign of being old and fearful now.

ROGER CLEMENS MAKES ANOTHER COMEBACK in the year 2057 — a fun little short film by Michael Barber and Matt Oates.

EVEN WITH THE YANKEES 10.5 GAMES BACK, there are always reasons to keep watching. For one, the return of the Rocket means there's never enough distance between the Sox and the surging Yanks (their pitchers are pitching, their bats are hitting, their runners are stealing, and they've won 8 of their last 10, including a five-game winning streak and a Chien-Ming Wang complete game victory).

But beyond the ever-present fear of a Yankees uprising and Red Sox collapse (once a Red Sox fan always a Red Sox fan), there are also the little rewards that baseball bestows upon those who stick with the long season. Like taking satisfaction in watching wily Julian Tavarez (6 IP, 6 H, 3 R, 1 BB, 5 SO) put up about the same pitching line as Clemens (6 IP, 5 H, 3 R, 2 BB, 7 SO) – for approximately a gazillion dollars less per game.

Or there's Schilling getting one out away from a no-hitter, shaking off Varitek's call for a slider ("He's swinging"), and banking on his fastball instead ("He's taking"), on that fateful (second-to-last) at-bat against Oakland's Shannon Stewart. Or, as Schill himself puts it in his blog:

Now comes the infamous ‘shake’. In talking with Tek after the game it’s clear to me that he was 100% spot on with his thought, and I was completely wrong with mine. Why would he take a strike at this point? I had gone to 1 three ball count all day. I wasn’t going to walk him and the only thing you do at that point, by taking a strike, is allow me freedom to use my split. There was no way in hell he was taking. I was sure otherwise. So I shake off the slider, execute the pitch I want, and he lines it to right.

It was a game of minor statistical importance (hey, we're 10.5 games ahead!) played on a school day, so many of us caught on late that potential history was in the making. But that's because we're cubicle monkeys, checking in on the team between meetings and emails. Big Papi, however, realized what was going on even later than the rest of us, and he was actually there:

It was Red Sox bench coach Brad Mills who alerted the media to the fact David Ortiz was in the dark about Schilling taking a no-hitter into the ninth inning.

"Ortiz came up to me and said, 'I swear on my children, I didn't know it was a no-hitter,' " said Mills, who had the manager's office to himself after the game because Terry Francona decided Mills deserved some attention after his son, Beau, was drafted by Cleveland in the first round (13th overall). "After the game, he came up to us. You can go ask him."

Francona said Ortiz told him the same thing, and the big man owned up to his ignorance.

"I didn't know until after the first out in the last inning," said Ortiz, whose home run in the first inning gave Schilling the run he needed to win his sixth game against two losses. "That's when I got nervous. I looked at the board, saw all the zeroes. [First base coach] Luis Alicea, he asked me, 'What would you do? Would you bring the closer in?'

"He was messing around with me. I was like, 'He's pitching good, why bring in the closer? Later on, I looked at all those zeroes, and I see the zero under 'H,' I go, 'Wait a minute.' I'm looking around and everybody goes, 'Shhhh.' That's when I started getting nervous."

Utility guy Alex Cora had this response:

Sox infielder Alex Cora was dubious of Ortiz's claim. "How many people were at that game?" Cora asked. "Thirty thousand? Twenty-five guys on their side, and 24 [on ours] . . . he was the only guy not watching the game."

And random Red Sox fan Bill Chuck had this:

After reading David Ortiz's claim that he didn't know Curt Schilling had a no-hitter in progress Thursday, reader Bill Chuck e-mailed: "The fact that Big Papi was not aware of Schilling's no-hitter until one down in the ninth can only be attributed to David being Manny."

So there's the painfully close bid at a history-making no-hitter — and then there are the little things, like Julio Lugo's hidden ball trick, which brings its own kind of drama to the June proceedings:

Red Sox third baseman Mike Lowell did not see Julio Lugo tag out an unsuspecting Alberto Callaspo Friday night, but he was ready to pronounce judgment on the play.

"That's not a real hidden-ball trick," Lowell said yesterday , "although I'm sure the stats say it is."

Lugo tagged out Callaspo when he strayed off second base, not realizing that Lugo — who had taken a throw from right fielder J.D. Drew — had not returned the ball to pitcher Josh Beckett, even though Beckett said afterward he was calling for the ball.

"I saw it on the replay," Lowell said, "I didn't see it while it was going on."

Lugo said once before he'd executed a similar play, but said the umpire missed it. "I try it all the time," he said. "It just didn't work.

"The umpire [Chris Guccione] was right on top of the play."

Lowell executed a similar play in 2005, when he was with Florida, and it also came against Arizona, when the third baseman tagged out Luis Terrero, who also strayed off the bag with Lowell still in possession of the ball. Why, then, was Lowell's play superior to Lugo's?

"Because [Lugo] didn't have to do anything," Lowell said. "[Pitcher Todd ] Jones had to sell it more than anyone.

"Jonesie, the only reason I didn't get rid of the ball was he was backing up home plate. I wasn't going to throw it to him. So I just waited. Then I glanced over to third and the third base coach and Terrero were both looking down at the time. So I said, I'll just walk over until Jonesie gets to the mound. If he asks for the ball, I'm going to give it to him. But we made eye contact and he saw me, then he walked around the mound, he's at the back, he started stretching. We were, honestly, about three seconds away from just forgetting about it because we couldn't wait anymore. And right there [Terrero] took a step off the bag, and it worked out."

No-hitters and hidden ball tricks both display some of the particular fun of baseball. It's a game with a long memory for little things and big things, each moment adding incrementally to a player's stats while also echoing the accomplishments of games past. So even though it's a long season in a game with a long history, even the smallest things begin to carry strange significance.

One day, Trot Nixon steps into the batter's box as a player for the opposing team, but what takes the stage is appreciation for the 13 seasons he spent as an original dirt dog. And on that same day, Kevin Youkilis has the first inside-the-park home run at Fenway since . . . Trot Nixon.

So, Mother's Day comebacks aside, there are other special moments that have nothing to do with winning and losing that are worth watching.

Or if you don't buy that, then remember this: 10.5 games is nothing when you're talking about the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox.

Suprisingly, it takes a New York Daily News columnist to remind us of how the tides can turn. After all, when the Red Sox were 8.5 games back on July 1, 2004, everyone began to count them out then, as well.

A COUPLE OF OLD GUYS SUBDUE A CRAZY PASSENGER on a Northwest Airlines flight while all the young dudes on the plane basically acted like weenies and "averted their eyes" to avoid involvement in the coming confrontation. Both of the old guys who stepped up are retired badasses — one is a former police commander, the other is a former marine captain. The best part though is how the wife of one of the geezer's reacted:

Hayden's wife of 42 years, Katie, who was also on the flight, was less impressed. Even as her husband struggled with the agitated passenger, she barely looked up from "The Richest Man in Babylon," the book she was reading.

"The woman sitting in front of us was very upset and asked me how I could just sit there reading," Katie Hayden said. "Bob's been shot at. He's been stabbed. He's taken knives away. He knows how to handle those situations. I figured he would go up there and step on somebody's neck, and that would be the end of it. I knew how that situation would end. I didn't know how the book would end."

Clearly, all the excitement is gone from this marriage. I mean, what's a guy got to do to impress a lady these days?

WE'RE ALL SICKOS, according to the way it's laid out in this Salon article about Michael Moore's new movie:

When Moore interviews Tony Benn, a leading figure on the British left, his larger concerns come into focus. Benn argues that for-profit healthcare and the other instruments of the corporate state, like student loans and bottomless credit-card debt, perform a crucial function for that state. They undermine democracy by creating a docile and hardworking population that is addicted to constant debt and an essentially unsustainable lifestyle, that literally cannot afford to quit jobs or take time off, that is more interested in maintaining high incomes than in social or political change. Moore seizes on this insight and makes it a kind of central theme; both in the film and aloud, at the press conference, he wondered whether some essential and unrecognized change has occurred in the American character.

Sounds 'bout right.

MORE EVIDENCE TAVAREZ IS A NUTBAG, perhaps, even a bigger nutbag than Manny?:

If Tavarez is unflappable about nearly everything baseball, there is one thing that bothers him — when teammate Manny Ramírez rubs the top of his head, which he did in the dugout last week.

"Manny's always been a guy who is like 12 years old whenever he feels like it," said Tavarez, who has known Ramírez for 15 years. "I told him, 'Listen, we are on TV, so stop playing around.' I told him to stop rubbing my head. He knows I fall asleep easily when somebody does that to my head, but he [kept] doing it. Manny's a great guy and a great player."

Here's video of the head-rubbing incident.

TOP 10 COMIC BOOK SUPERHERO MOVIES, in order of best to worst (not counting The Incredibles — because it wasn't based on a comic book and it's animated — but otherwise it would have been number 2 on this list):

1. Superman: The Movie
2. Spider-Man
3. Batman
4. Superman II
5. Spider-Man 2
6. Spider-Man 3
7. X-Men
8. Hulk
9. Batman Returns
10. --

The point being: There aren't a lot of great comic book superhero movies. So even though 10 gazillion people watched Spider-Man 3 this weekend and 5 gazillion of them liked it and 5 gazillion of them disliked it, it still makes it squarely into the top 10 and dominates as a series.

CRAZY MAN HAS MADE FRIENDS. Strangely enough, psychotic relief pitcher-turned-starter Julian Tavarez has grown smitten with Japanese imports Matsuzaka and Okajima. This is the same Tavarez known for a long, colorful history of tantrums, including punching Tampa Bay Devil Ray Joey Gathright during a play at the plate in a spring training game and punching a phone in the dugout during the 2004 World Series when he was playing for St. Louis. Nowadays, you'll often see him standing at the top of the dugout and talking animatedly with Matsuzaka. Whether Matsuzaka has any idea what he's saying is questionable, but there's a lot of nodding going on, either out of politeness or self-preservation. Tavarez' affections are chronicled in this Globe story covering his last outing (a win):

The Sox bullpen continues to be a great source of shiawase — that's Japanese for happiness — which is why Tavarez goes out of his way to keep not only Daisuke Matsuzaka but Hideki Okajima smiling.

"They're all my friends, Okajima and Matsuzaka," said Tavarez, whose only trouble yesterday came in the third, when he walked Jorge Posada and Robinson Cano, then crossed up catcher Jason Varitek by throwing a slider when Varitek was calling for a fastball, which allowed Mientkiewicz to forgo a bunt and deliver a long ball instead.

"I try to talk to those guys, come out with a joke every day," Tavarez said. "Hopefully, they like me a lot. I just try to make them happy. I think I'm the only player who tries to say something every day, even if it's a stupid thing."

Along with stories of snake oil on his pitching arm and some pretty good pitching to boot, somehow Tavarez has crossed over from "dangerous nutbag" to "somewhat endearing dangerous nutbag," in a crazy Manny sort of way. Now it even seems Tavarez is hoping to learn how to throw a cut fastball from Matsuzaka. Perhaps, in exchange for tips on how to punch things.

OUR OLD ACE BARELY LASTED FOUR INNINGS, our new lead-off guy struck out three times, one of our two Japanese imports gave up a homerun with his very first Major League pitch and the boys in red didn't look so hot on the base paths (or the outfield) either. Sure, it was all against a pretty good pitcher. But it was also against arguably the worst team in baseball. Question marks abound, and, well, it is only the first game of the season, after all. But at least this, we know: It could have been worse. And it can only get better.

EVEN WHEN MATSUZAKA HAS A BAD OUTING, it's okay. So he gives up a walk every inning? It's still five innings of no-hit baseball. Maybe the hype machine has gone into overdrive, but if the cap'n says he's the real thing, then he's the real thing:

Matsuzaka? He has at least five or six pitches, maybe seven, though getting people like Varitek to identify them is like trying to crack the Da Vinci Code. At this stage, it appears Matsuzaka throws a four-seam fastball, curveball, slider, cut fastball, split-fingered fastball and changeup, the latter of which is the mythical gyroball that Matsuzaka throws with the arm action of a screwball.

Isn’t that right?

“I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you,” mused Varitek, eagerly awaiting a decision.

A short time later, in response to another question about Matsuzaka’s arsenal, Varitek nodded and said, “No.”

If you are somewhat mystified by all of this, do not be embarrassed. Matsuzaka has so many pitches that Varitek actually is using a cheat sheet similar to those employed by NFL quarterbacks. Depending on the game situation, the same sign can mean an entirely different pitch, which is why the time shared by Varitek and Matsuzaka this spring has been so critical.

FOR ANYONE GOING THROUGH A MID-LIFE CRISIS, this should make for some excellent reading. Ostensibly, it's about inventing yourself and making a good impression. But for me, it's about confusion and angst:

It is said that we are all three different people: the person we think we are (the one we have invented), the person other people think we are (the impression we make) and the person we think other people think we are (the one we fret about). You could say it would be a lifetime's quest to reconcile this battling trinity into a seamless whole.

(Via kottke)

DAISUKE MATSUZAKA HAS A BAD OUTING during spring training. Oh, no! It's the end of the world! It's the end of the world! We're all doomed!!!

Or maybe not.

LIFE IN THE BIG CITY AND FRIED CHICKEN CRAVINGS don't always make the best of friends. Or so I learned from this video. Unfortunately, I saw the video last week and ate at the fine dining establishment in question four weeks ago. But never fear, now that KFC has brought an expert in on the scene, I'm sure everything will be fine from now on:

Corrigan is a world-renowned expert on rodent problems. He once spent months living in a rat-infested barn to better study the rodent's behavior, and he has taught at the New York City Rodent Control Academy.

There's a Rodent Control Academy?

WHEN HUMAN AND APE GO TO WAR, it's good to know that the pigeons will be on our side – whether they like it or not.

Scientists in eastern China have successfully experimented with brain-motor skill manipulation in pigeons to "force the bird to comply with their commands." Micro electrodes have been planted into the brains of these pigeons to control their movement left, right, up, and down during flight.

Beware of bombs, Koko!

THE WAR BETWEEN MAN AND APE IS FAST APPROACHING as evidenced by this article on spear-wielding chimps. Planet of the Apes warned us that this day would come and now it's finally here.

GOOD NEWS FOR RED SOX-OBSESSED, MAC-WIELDING GEEKS like me. Here's an Applescript for building your very own season schedule in iCal in six easy steps. Blessed be the Mac development community, even if this particular member is an A's fan.

DICE-K CLIPS HIS TOE NAILS, film at 11. Or at least some thrilling coverage from the Globe. I wonder, can we really keep up with the moment-by-moment coverage of his every move the entire season?

NOBODY KNOWS ANYTHING and just to prove it, Wired's made a list of 40 big unanswered questions of the universe. This one's my favorite because even if you answer it, it's still bewildering and bad:

How do entangled particles communicate?

One of the zanier notions in the plenty zany world of quantum mechanics is that a pair of subatomic particles can sometimes become “entangled.” This means the fate of one instantly affects the other, no matter how far apart they are. It’s such a bizarre phenomenon that Einstein dissed the idea in the 1930s as “spooky action at a distance,” saying it showed that the developing model of the atomic world needed rethinking.

But it turns out that the universe is spooky after all. In 1997, scientists separated a pair of entangled photons by shooting them through fiber-optic cables to two villages 6 miles apart. Tipping one into a particular quantum state forced the other into the opposite state less than five-trillionths of a second later, or nearly 7 million times faster than light could travel between the two. Of course, according to relativity, nothing travels faster than the speed of light - not even information between particles.

Even the best theories to explain how entanglement gets around this problem seem preposterous. One, for example, speculates that signals are shot back through time. Ultimately, the answer is bound to be unnerving: According to a famous doctrine called Bell’s Inequality, for entanglement to square with relativity, either we have no free will or reality is an illusion. Some choice.

The other fun and disturbing thing you realize as you read the other articles is how often scientists use giant particle smashing machines called super colliders to test their theories — and that smashing particles in giant machines could possibly result in creating a black hole that sucks us all up into oblivion. Crazy scientists.

"A HUGE PINBALL MACHINE DESIGNED BY A MAD SCULPTOR," also known as Fenway Park. ESPN.com has a spot-on appreciation of Fenway's timeless allure, including Manny's wee-wee escapade in the Green Monster.