Amy is still being Amysitted (by Annette), but she posts a short update. Look for a longer one when she returns to the South.
Kristen, who bore the brunt of this weekend's festivities as she played hostess to both the Whirlwind that is Amy and the post-game party on Saturday, posted her summary of why, as she quotes Steve Brady, “The bold Surviving Grady tradition of total ridiculousness continues apace.” I also apparently missed quite a bit at said party after pooping out early, at least if her Party Post-Mortem (which she posted at my, er, "request") is any indication.
Sam posted twice about the weekend. Highlights include a picture of in-game mayhem*, the post-game group pic, a link to an animated .gif of Amy doing the Trotter Dance, and the phrase "an oval on spindly chicken legs." (Whatever!)
Sam also wrote the following fantastic haiku:
The pitch elevates;
A mighty swing with strong breeze;
Mark Bellhorn strikes out.
You can take your smug
Fist-pump and your 26
Rings and go home. Ass.
Steve Brady elected not to share his traumatic estrogen-laden experience with the Internet, but did post the text of his Keith Foulke sign, which earned him my undying love.
Finally, Maura has up a touching post about the Sox, her Dad, Game 3, and why she paid the tab:
I owed it to them in an oddly karmic way. Touching over wires and ether, but also between generations and circumstance, these ties bind. A quiet thanks to those who understand why I wear the hat with a B.
*You will note that Sam used the picture I took without the flash, because despite her insistences that the flash makes for superior photos, her subconscious clearly knows that flash makes everyone look like they're made out of raw bread dough. I rest my case with her posting.