*Image courtesy of Kelly O' @www.sittingstill.net*
I gotta admit; after taking the family out for pizza for dinner and within the first 5 minutes of us arriving Trot had peed his pants, climbed into a booth with a somewhat surprised elderly gentleman, gotten within 3 inches of a newborns face and crawled under an empty table I wasn't quite in the baseball frame of mind.
Upon arriving home I bathed the boys (imagine two wet cats that talk back), broke up two mini-brawls, parked both of them in front of Sponge Bob and settled in. (Ange and Ciera went to get a movie which somehow took 45 minutes. Riiiight.) For 4 innings it was a great pitchers duel between The Commander and last years Cy Young winner Zack Grienke, but in the 5th I got my mojo back.
That was when The Captain went yard.
All of a sudden birds were singing, Trot was quiet (he was raiding the pantry for Gummi Bears at the time) and it felt like 2004 for a few minutes.
Now? It's the top of the 8th, it's 4-3 Sox, and Beckett just gave me the 37th ulcer of my life with a 20 something pitch inning and I'm lighting a candle for the bullpen as I type.
At least it's never boring.
EDITORS NOTE: TEK JUST WENT DEEP AGAIN IN THE NINTH. I THINK I HEAR BELLS RINGING.
Do We Mean What We Sing?
2 hours ago