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.