I will be as relentless as the Red Sox lineup with my posting today. I will be as relentless as the joy.
SG has cool new T-shirts. (And I want a free one!)
We don't want to leave the game thread. It's cute.
Is this how parents feel when they're about to have a baby? Like nothing has changed, but everything's about to change? That's how I felt yesterday. The Red Sox were about to win the World Series. And I was about to become Just Another Baseball Fan again. Now it's time to join the ranks of the normal baseball fans. Thank God. Because that's all we ever wanted. Nobody understood that. Outsiders made up fake curses, called us losers, pointed to a legacy of failure, questioned our sanity. We kept hoping. We kept the faith. We kept passing this team down from generation to generation, hoping it would be worth it. And it was. The last 11 days were the greatest sports ride of our lives: Eight games, eight wins, one championship, a boatload of memories. We crawled through 500 yards of (expletive)-smelling foulness and came out smelling like roses on the other side. --Simmons
What would be very cool is if I could go look up on Google some information about sleep deprivation and how it affects the brain. I'm thinking maybe I could find some kind of hour-by-hour chart of how each of the brain's higher processes shut down due to fatigue. But I have tried and failed to figure out what hour I'm on, as it appears the ability to add and subtract is one of the first things to go.
Anyway, it's 2 pm now, I was up at 6:30 yesterday, you figure it out. I'm too fucking tired.
So...somehow lunchtime passed and around an hour ago the critical need for more caffeine hit me, but the energy to stand up from my desk and actually go somewhere outside the immediate area to procure it took a while to gather. At first I was thinking about going to the drive-thru down the street, but the more I contemplated all the steps involved in that process, the less appealing it was. Plus, if I leave now to get lunch, I'll have to stay here longer. And since I got here at 7 this morning, and I'm skipping lunch, I figure I'm entitled to leave around 3:30. Which would give me a fighting chance of getting home alive.
So I managed to get some Cheetos and a Coke, and it has just occurred to me that between this and the mini-muffins I had for breakfast, my food intake for the day has consisted of four (4) 2 oz. bags of prepackaged vending-machine food. This is probably not good. I don't know where I'm going with this.
Here, read this instead.
Jim Rome: The Red Sox legend, mystique and intrigue are all dead. Now you're just another team with a world title. That makes the Sox like the Blue Jays, Marlins, Angels and D-backs. The truth is, you had a hell of a lot more mystique without it. The Red Sox had a more interesting character before they won it. The Red Sox were the guys that couldn't catch a break, the guys who couldn't get over the hump. Now it all falls on the Cubs...the lovable losers who after this year's choke job, are just losers.
Steve: Well, it's not like we wanted to stay circus freaks forever.
I love the fact that all these outsiders are trying to tell us our team now means nothing. They're just mad they no longer have a "Curse" story to milk for all it's worth. But as with the Curt Schilling backlash, it's like most of the world outside RSN is desperate to find some way to take this away from us. As I've stated in the past, it's not the fans who have lost their identity--it's the sportswriters who have lost their gimmick.
I'll cry about that later, along with A-Rod's tummyache.
True story: driving home today I came to a merging intersection, the kind where a main road intersects a side road at an angle. The car in front of me paused, then went forward, and I looked over my shoulder, waiting for the traffic on the adjoining road to subside before turning on. When it finally passed, I obligingly pressed the accelerator, and proceeded to bump lightly but firmly into the back bumper of the car in front of me, which had not gone after all. He stopped. I stopped. He got out. I got out.
Today, I happened to be wearing my Patriots fleece. The guy takes one look at me and says, "You a Patriots fan?"
"Absolutely," I say, wondering where this is going.
"You a Red Sox fan?"
"Absolutely," I say again. "Huge Red Sox fan."
"Today's a great day, huh?"
"You know what? I'm actually a detective. You've technically hit a police car, here. Bet you're having one of those days, huh?"
He smiles, broader this time. "But I can forgive you. Today's a great day."
Now it's time for me to smile back. "Yeah, it is."
He's climbing back in his car. "Drive safe," he says. "Go Sox."