I suppose I could get away with one of those gawd-awful Mike Barnicle style posts outlining my mental paralysis induced by Red Sox dementia...
I COULD do one of those, but it would be a lie.
Truth is baseball has never done it for me and it never will.
I got no clue as to what is going on down on that diamond-none.
Now you wanna talk boxing or horse racing...then we've got something...but baseball?
What should we do if they win?
I mean besides hiding from the BPD?
An old AAA ball player from the olden days lives next door to me, IF the miracle happens and it may not, I might slip next door and offer him hearty greetings and congratulations.
And then I'm high-tailing to my cellar to crouch behind stoutly stacked sandbags, armed with a fifth of Jack Daniels and my trusty "head buster" twelve gauge.
Speaking of boxing, is Kevin McBride the nigh on seven foot tall "Clones Colossus" still fighting?
I pity the wretch that climbs into the ring with him. McBride is so massive (despite his lack of technique) that you'd have to be armed with a tire iron to hope to do any real damage and even then...
I saw him knock a guy out of the ring once a round for three rounds before his opponent quietly sighed, shrugged, and called for a cab.
Anyhow between the Sox, the election, and the lunar eclipse it is shaping up to be night of howls and phantoms, fire and air as it were.
So enjoy it, and er...GO SOX! Yes that is it!