Red Sox-wise--what's left to say at this point? Except that I'm still here, still watching, because sometimes that's just what you do, and you try not to even think about it too much. I'm just here. I'm still here and I'm staying. That's all I really know.
Meanwhile, tonight I gathered with the entire family at my parents' house in the "stadium" my dad set up in the living room to watch the Ohio State-Texas game. I wasn't as into it as most of the rest of the audience, but it was still a good game in that Ohio State won.
Rooting against Texas was pretty easy, too, not only because it's Texas, but also because the Texas coach had a HUGE festering crater of what could only be herpes on his lip, and every time they showed him I could only imagine none of the other coaches wanting to accidentally end up with his sideline mic and headphones, of players cowering in the spray of simplex virus from his lips if he got in their face during a game...eugh. So Texas was officially gross. And despite my sister's boyfriend's conviction that no, Ohio State was going to find a way to blow it somehow, and then the whole team was going to have to hitchhike home, and we'd all have to live in a cardboard box and life itself would suck, Ohio beat the horns off Texas, 24-7. I couldn't really fault him for the whole hitchhiking / cardboard box mentality, as that's really the only attitude a serious fan of any team can take when the team they care about is up big in a huge game and everything seems too good to be true. I could relate. I just couldn't quite be there with him about Ohio State, you see.
I sometimes don't know how to adequately explain my continued disinterest in college football. Even my dad is puzzled at how this particular aspect of football appreciation apparently did not get passed on to me. Maybe it'll change, but in general I find the professional game more precise and cerebral. The college game is too sloppy and back-and-forth. It's too high-scoring, almost too dramatic for me, although that makes me sound like a dweeb.
Okay, so as an example, it seemed like every time Texas ran the football tonight they were ripping off like ten or eleven yards, or more. Their runningback was slicing through like a hot knife through butter, and I have no doubt the kid is good, but there were also white-scarlet-and-grey uniforms just dripping off him, playing like they thought it was touch football. Getting a hand on him and then flinging themselves off to the side without wrapping up, falling uselessly by the wayside while the runningback just kept chugging along. Give me a gritty five-yard professional run right up the gut over that any day.
Well, like I said, it's tough to explain. I guess it's just a matter of taste.
But anyway. When your dad wears a fuzzy hat designed to look like an actual buckeye (aka chestnut) with a huge red "O" on it to watch the game in Massachusetts, you kinda have to say, "Go Bucks!"
Especially when the other team has herpes.