Days without sports force me to engage in other activities. And then things like this happen. Please, Red Sox, for the sake of my liver, my sanity and my continued well-being, play a game tonight.
Note: If you look really closely at the picture in that post, a ghostly hand emerges from the darkness, offering Amy yet another beer. This, dear readers, is the elusive Steve Brady. A sighting of whom is even more rare than Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Mosnter. Photographic evidence, kids. It does not lie.