It’s been a bad week with the sky acting like how I feel everyday. Today in rainy still cold Boston I suddenly had a revelation. It’s baseball season. We are still the champions. So I walked into a bar and sat down happily with my Sunday sports page to read during commercials.
I sat down with my Guinness to warm my body and watched. Beckett was pitching what could possibly go wrong…
Oh right. Everything. Now I remember the good old days of being a Sox fan, when trainwrecks were a weekly occurrence. We can blame Lugo as much as we want, but it’s deeper than that. No one on our team is playing to his normal standards. Jet lag, jet smag. We need to pick it up. And soon.
We have opening day this Tuesday, and Boston is dreary enough right now without a bunch of disappointed drunk fans wandering the streets. I will be at the game on Saturday, and we don’t need an angry me trying to brawl Yankees fans, I’m actually a lot smaller then I think. Also we have twenty games in twenty days, so we really need to build some momentum.
My godmother and I will be selling “I love New York” shirts, with some puffy paint written below it before the game on Saturday. You know how expensive hot dogs and beer are at Fenway, so feel free to buy one! Just think the more beer my godmother and I can afford the more likely every Yankees fan will be harassed. Puffy paint has never been so wicked!
Comments