Tag Archives: red sox

sparklers as fire hazard, an old catty cat, and the proper care of scapegoats and peruvian donkeys


i just don’t know where to go with this today. first of all it’s friday. secondly the playoffs start tonight (MLB), thirdly i leave for a san diego vacation/biz trip tomorrow, fourthly i’m going there with my hot guy and my baby girl, fifthly i’ve got a telecon with my mentor and coach later before she heads off to pet her donkey in peru (that is not a joke) as i’m cruising beaches and a killer tattoo shop, sixthly i’m just really happy and motivated, perhaps even energetically annoying to those less cheerful. and i’ve had exactly one cup of coffee. zoiks. even my horrorscope tells me that i can have it all…every exciting thing i see in front of me. so i’ll just shut up, soak it up and put the cheerleader in me back into the “pom poms, yeah right” closet.

so i went searching for a story to play with. not much there, frankly (or bradley or ashley or sara lee). scanning headlines, i found only the most vaguely humorous or interesting stories…some brilliant thing Rick Perry mentioned about a mythical love-child GOP front runner named Newtman Caingrich…PETA’s upset over chicken porn…the record for the longest living two-faced cat has been broken (18 lives? he(s) always nice to your face but so catty behind your back?)…the Red Sox Nation found this year’s scapegoat for their total and completely predictable implosion (one comment from announcer Dan Shaughnessy during a 7th inning rain delay in the last game of the season jinxed Boston for the rest of the game, and retroactively, for the entire month of their 7-20 september – hey, if it makes you feel better and keeps you from setting cars on fire, it works for me)…and i learned 9 facts about my ears, including that our ears help us taste. that is just so freakin’ weird i don’t know even know where to file that in my head (behind the eustachian tubes?).

that’s the run down and way too much cheesy humor. you can read more headlines on your own about war, the attack of the e. coli melons, some political romper room fights and lots of sad deportation threats. the rest of my thoughts and plans involve a lot of happy, happy, joy, joy and running around all day wielding my master to-do list, sporting sparklers in my hair (as opposed to fire…though – BIG WARNING: i have set my best friend’s hair on fire with a sparkler…sheepish grin.) people tell me i’m allowed to be this happy, that life doesn’t necessarily come along and smack the grin off of shining faces like mine just because it can. i’m a little skeptical, a touch guarded, a few of my wounds of the past couple years still a tad seepy. but neither simple nor severe injuries ever kept me off the playing field for long…my bench time is over for now…and this sports metaphor is making me tired.

happy friday, readers. take some of my smiles if you find yourself short. i will, this time, forewarn you of the dearth of posts you will likely experience in the next week. any and all words from vacation road will be my bonus, and your onus to read should you miss me. (i’m hoping “onus” really isn’t the word you’d use to describe reading my blog…the “onus” is only on my dear friends and/or family who are required to provide constant reassurance and convincing compliments).

so…for the moment, it’s good-bye. but we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies…  – j. kerouac.





boston’s beautiful blunders and rays of rivalry sunshine


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.