Woke up at 6:30 this morning to Classic Rock on the alarm and sun shining through the bedroom window. I rolled over, looked at my beautiful wife, and uttered these romantic words: "I've done screwed up another perfectly good day by staying up until 2:15 in the morning to watch the Sox LOSE".
In hindsight, my decision to put off a decent night of sleep to watch the game seems, well, a poor one. Could not help myself: from Papi hitting one out in the first, to Julian being Julian, and that makeshift lineup Tito threw out there, the game had me hooked.
After watching the Sox chip away at a 3-1 lead, then 4-2, they tie it up in the top of the ninth. Somehow, someway, they get out of a bases juiced, nobody out in the home half. By this point, my twisted logic and sleep deprivation has me believing that this is happening because, by God, I stayed AWAKE. When Ortiz JUST misses his 2nd dinger of the night and bangs it off the wall, I know, I freaking KNOW, Pedie is gonna score from second.
He was out by a country mile: and because for some inexplicable reason he decides not to slide, (Still woulda been out) he gets Jason Kendall's glove to his face for his trouble. Walk off HR by Chavez half an inning later, and it's one more in the loss column.
Still 10 up in the division to the Jays, who are losing as I type this. Still up 12.5 on the LAST PLACE Yankees. And Daisuke on the bump for tonight.
After around 4 hours of sleep, field day at Ciera's school, and hitting the pool with the kids tonight, I am whipped. It's taken me an hour to write this because I'm squinting from trying to keep my eyes open, and I know if I went and laid on the sofa, I'd be out in 10 minutes.
Screw that: there's a game on in an hour and the boys need the mojo. Besides, to quote the great philosopher from New Jersey, I can sleep when I'm dead.
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