No more distractions

Pretty birdy…

So…that happened. And, so far as I can tell, no one around these parts did much more than shrug and turn our attentions fully to football season. And while I still think it’s kind of bullshit that an 83 win team won the World Series, I guess thems the breaks. Pretty sure it says something though about the relative lack of excitement in said World Series as Amy, Marianne, Jen and I were nearly falling asleep as the last outs were recorded. Of course, we’d spent the earlier part of the evening watching the DVD of Game 4 of the 2004 World Series as it was the two year anniversary and the strongest reaction when the Cardinals secured the victory was from Amy who said, “Those motherfuckers stole our day!” But we quickly moved on, changed the channel and Amy and I left to attend a boy band singalong at the Coolidge. (Shut up, it was AWESOME).

So that’s how it went down. And that’s about as exciting as it gets. People have lamented the fact that baseball season is over for a few months now but personally, I’ve felt like it’s been over for a while. Not that I didn’t enjoy the playoff games I watched and not that Sam’s descent into lunacy wasn’t HIGHLY entertaining, but it’s almost November. It feels like fall. The Patriots are playing good football and the Colts are, once again, being giant show-offy pains in the ass. It’s football season.

Speaking of the Colts…I don’t think I could really be considered a Denver Broncos fan but yesterday, oh boy, yesterday, I was. Mentally decked out in orange and blue and waving the foam finger, I was channeling the spirit of John Elway and imploring John Lynch to “JUMP ON HIS HEAD!” Because no one ever gets to Peyton. Why? And I have never, ever, ever wanted Adam Vinatieri to miss so much in my entire life. Jerk. I hate that I have to hate him now.

Of course, this just means that the hype for next week’s Colts/Pats game is already threatening to eat the world. And now I don’t just want to beat them, I want to break them. Into many, tiny, unrecognizable pieces. I hope it snows nineteen feet.

But, before we deal with the Colts, we must deal with the Vikings tonight on Monday Night Football. Lomo makes his triumphant return to Minnesota and the boys face off against someone who is both named Brad and wearing purple. But I’m sure they’ve overlooked nothing.

Oh, and while we’re on the subject of football, I’d like you all to know that my mom called me after the Steelers lost to the Raiders, (seriously, Sebastian, I’m coming over to take away all sharp objects), and called Roethlisberger an idiot, Cowher a moron and the entire Steelers organization irresponsible jackasses. Because, seriously, why do you play Baby Ben in that situation? Why? In less than a year he’s been concussed twice, had his appendix removed, had a dangerously high fever and, I think, some thumb thingie. And, you know, he’s also played like shit. So you play him why? I’m just really glad, at this point, that the Steelers aren’t my team. Because wow, that’s finding new and impressive ways to suck right there. Yikes.

So no more baseball to distract us from the task at hand, that being marching into Minnesota, kicking ass and taking names. Go, boys, go!

Oh, and I’m not what one would consider a basketball fan but it’s worth noting that the Boston sports scene lost an icon this weekend when Red Auerbach died. It’s reasonable to call him the architect of the Celtics past dynasty and to say that without Auerbach, we wouldn’t have a standard against which to measure greatness around these parts. Rest in peace, Red.

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