boston’s beautiful blunders and rays of rivalry sunshine

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wow. what a wednesday, bleeding right into a great thursday. my to-do list lost much of its spectre of doom yesterday as i handily checked tasks TaDone! all day. then i got a freebie no-baby evening and had a blast last night missing the biggest news story of my sporting year. waking to headlines has rarely been so sweet…sweet enough even to rouse my dormant desire to watch sportscenter on repeat all morning.

even if you aren’t a fan, you are probably hearing about the spectacular end to regular season baseball coming from every news ticker that’s ticking. it’s the most spectacular finish i can remember, and carries enough passion, drama, tears, jeers and screams to fill out a nice, thick baseball movie script (and i’ve never met a baseball movie i didn’t like). i’m kind of glad i missed it. i may have cried. i certainly wouldn’t have slept. i have goosebumps thinking about it, full on shivers watching sportscenter. i love feeling like a kid…i love this spark of excitement and watching myself hop like a flea about my kitchen and living room doing the squiggly, giggly butt-shaking dance of the gloating.

unreal. here’s the deal. i am first and foremost a fan of the game of baseball and all that makes it good and fresh, predictable and unpredictable, meticulous or crazy, precise or a sandlot scramble. secondly, i’m a Yankees fan which makes me a fan of any team playing the Red Sox. last night that was the Orioles at Camden Yards, my local AL park (Go O’s!). then, first headlines this morning had me cheering out loud for the Tampa Rays in their come-from-behind win over my Yankees. confused yet? not if you are any part of this 100 year old Yanks-BoSox rivalry. in their own field of dreams moment, the Rays beat my Yanks (aka this late in the season as the Trenton Thunder), coming from a 7-0 deficit in the 8th to take the wildcard from Boston, who was busy losing the wildcard on what could have been their star closer’s last pitch. hehe. drrrrrama. love it. a tie coming into the last night of the season…an obvious ending in sight…then wham, flam, a crack of the bat and the ol’ switcheroo…and Terry Francona is scheduling tee times instead of team workouts.

i know there are thousands of people writing about this and i’m not trying to be a sports columnist…though had i seen the Linda Cohn years coming, i may have actually attempted to use my broadcast journalism degree. i coulda woulda (i don’t believe in shoulda) been great at it…but that’s a life for another dimension. i’m just here to note that once again, all is right in the world, the stars are properly aligned and october ball is here…time moves on, patterns repeat and familiar stories comfort. there is something so timeless about watching the BoSox go from stellar to cellar in a month. don’t hate me if you are Sox fan (ok, fine, go ahead. i get it.)…this is what makes the game great.

(add to all of this that my brand new tires are already mounted, balanced and tested,  my car happy and whole in the driveway, by 9:40am, all accomplished with me in my pj’s. i wonder what the cutie tire tech with the stretched ears and easy grin thought of my one fish-two fish pajama pants. i know he thought well of the tip i handed him when this magical mobile tire delivery thing was complete. and it is magical, believe me. it makes me want to buy more tires just to marvel at the convenience , price and service.)

anyway, i’m rambling while a thousand disparate thoughts explode like pop rocks in my brain. i’ve been called silly for my devotion and thrill over professional sports. the cynics always have at least ten arguments in their pockets about why i shouldn’t care, but today the glee in my chest and steps and these little sparkles in my brain are my heart thumbing it’s little nose at the all of the killjoys.

play ball. have a thursday. smile a lot. and do a squiggly, giggly butt-shaking dance just cuz you can.

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