Road Trip: Bouncing Around Beantown

It's a very strange thing to go to a baseball game and not root, root, root for the home team. But there I was, Yankee fan sitting in the Grandstand at Fenway Park, watching the hated Boston Red Sox play the Arizona Diamondbacks.

I felt like Charlie, the General Manager of the Cleveland Indians in the movie Major League when he would be secretly clapping for his team. That was me every time the Red Sox hit into a double play or struck out. A tiny fist pump out of sight of Red Sox Nation... and I made it out of the stadium alive.

It was a long overdue weekend to visit my beautiful niece who moved up to Boston when her too-smart-for-his-own-good husband got the job of his dreams and they left the Great State of New Jersey. Since the two of them have always made each other's dreams come true, Boston it is for the foreseeable future.

Sprockets

So we drove up Saturday morning, got together and caught up on life. Went to the game and by a weird coincidence, one of my fellow writers at Sprocketink.com, also not from the area, was going to his first game at Fenway... the same night. Honestly, what are the odds? Put that in the books as an added treat for the weekend, as it was great fun to meet him, if only for a short amount of time. As our Sprocket Ink crew are scattered all over the world, this was a big deal in the Sprocket Ink Universe.

Next morning we left at 9 am for the 250 mile ride home.... it took ten hours. Not so much the traffic as the way we travel. You've heard of the road less traveled, well we tend to make our own roads. If something looks interesting to the left, we go left. It lets you see things that are not listed in the travel guides. It also requires many more hours to get to where you were going. But along the way there is beautiful scenery and odd things. Did you know we have our own mini Easter Island right in Narrangansett, Rhode Island?

It had been a while since we had been up north, and in that time windmills have been sprouting up along the coast. About damn time America. They look ever so much nicer on the coastline than nuclear power plants. Also, I really believe there is nothing in the world that will soothe your soul more than looking out into the ocean. Maybe music, but the ocean has her own voice.

Now my inner voice tells me it's time for work... and some music.

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Talking Baseball: Yankees Baby

Haven't talked baseball for a while, so let's catch up.

I am a Yankees fan...there I've said it. Yes, I hate the Red Sox...as I've said before, they can all go suck an egg. I have been a Yankees fan since...well let's just say, Ron Guidry was not only a smokin' hot pitcher, but damn that man looked hot in those pinstripes.

Yes, I take winning as a god given right.
We are the Damn Yankees after all.

The Yanks are currently on a 10 game, yes count them 10 game winning streak. Three sweeps plus one. One of those sweeps was against the NY Mets. Now I live with a Mets fan, so interleague play can get a bit....shall we say testy. He was not at all amused as I brought out the broom after the last subway series. Well, he can suck an egg too.  Yankees Rule.

And have I mentioned, our closer...you know the greatest closer of all time, is out for the season. Yes, we are doing all of this without Mariano Rivera. nice.  It's called stepping up to the plate. Suck it up and get the job done.

I am painfully aware we are not even at the All-Star break, and anything can happen. But, what the hell...time to crow.

This weekend the Mets and Yanks face each other again. Don't expect another sweep, but I will keep my broom handy, just in case.

A woman and her broom...a witch.
Or, what's that other word it rhymes with....yeah that's me.

Go Yanks.

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Super Bowl: The Day After

gloat

   [gloht]  Show IPA

verb (used without object)

1.

to look at or think about with great or excessive, often smug or malicious, satisfaction: The opposing team gloated over our bad luck.

Do I take the high road or the low road? hmmm.  Mom always told me to act like a lady...however that was never my strong suit.

But yes, I will behave.  It was a great game.  Nothing was certain until the clock ran out.  We all ate too much, drank too much and are now facing a long workday. Suck it up people, it was worth it.

Tomorrow we have a parade, then we turn our eyes on green grass and the 90 feet between each base.  Officially, at least by my calendar, we are in baseball mode. Bring it on.

First Yankees game, April 6.
Opening Day, April 13.
First Yankees-Red Sox game in Fenway April 20.

Put me in coach, I'm ready to play

Super Bowl Rematch: It's Talking Time

Here we go again.  Big Blue in the Big Game up against Babyhead Brady.  Nice.

As you might know, I have no love lost for things Boston.  The city itself is great, had some fun times there, but the sports teams...specifically football and the hated Sox...yes I am a Yankee fan, turn me into a hateful bitch. Not that I think that's a bad thing.

To live in the New York area and be a fan of either the Pats or the Sox is, for me, inconceivable.  The "other's" bartender is a Red Sox fan...cannot comprehend it.  What's worse is he's raising his young son to be one too.  Talk about a lost generation.

Anyway, in two weeks the Super Bowl rematch begins. I can still remember all those 19-0 t-shirts that were printed prior to the last Giants-Pats Super Bowl...the ones that were given to some third world country when the Giants ruined the Pats perfect season. Such a shame. While this rematch is not quite as dramatic, and the outcome of a Giants win is not set in stone, we all now have two weeks to dissect, rehash and piss & moan about what should... and what will happen.

Brady...you're goin' down.