Amused Musings

Watched the Red Sox games the past two nights. It feels so familiar that it's painful. Or rather the pain is so familiar. It IS the same as watching the Browns when I was 8. Hoping, wishing, willing them to win, only to realize that it was beyond reach because #7 Horsey McComeback was there or in this case I fear Derek Jeter or any number of Yankees all-stars. Watching last night was like when I would play Mark in Madden football. I'd get the Madden All-time team and he'd play with the Giants. And somehow he'd win.

Mark and I called eachother during last two games:
My observations:

Miguel Cairo (the non-allstar on the team) must feel like a regular man in a porn star locker room---inadequate.

When the Sox brought in Tim Wakefield: Oh good, it's captain season-over.

After watching Ortiz steal second (replays show he was safe): Watching David Ortiz steal a base is like watching platetechtonics come-to-life.

After Sheffield reached on a dropped third strike. Apparently the Sox steal second and are out, and the Yanks are out and steal first.

Tonight I have frisbee...thus I'll tape the game. Schilling has his magical shoe made by Reebok. I'm pleased to see that the childworkers of Taiwan also dislike the Yankees. I'm guessing (and I'm always always wrong) that it'll be a blowout. Not sure which way. Either the Sox jump all over Lieber and put up a 3 or 4 run inning early and run away. Or Schilling is just not cutting it and the Matsui's and A-Rod's etc just pound him, a few 2 run doubles and it's over.

I, of course and hoping for the first scenario. Because then you get to game 7 where no one is ready to pitch. The Yanks bring in Bernie because he pitched once when he was 11. And Pokey Reese comes to catch Wakefield because he dated a woman who was a softball catcher in 11th grade. And they dig up Ted Williams severed head to pinch run for Millar. I love the games where pitchers pitch on no rest, and it's just gutty.

The best part about all of this is watching the faces of the players when they win. It's pure and true joy. It's not the joy from being really wealthy or even really good at something. It's the joy that you feel when you're 11 and you win. When the Sox ran out on the field to greet Ortiz two nights ago they skipped and twirled. They were overwhelmed. And if the Yanks win you'll see that from them. But I hope not--at least not tonight.