A Word with the Big Man

Are you there, God? It’s me, Kristen.

Quick question: are we ever going to play baseball again? It’s just, I miss it, is all. Especially since the last time the Sox played, Schill threw an eight inning, four hitter, Donnelly pitched a scoreless ninth, Ortiz hit another bomb and the Sox won 8-0. And then…nothing. I’d just like to see some baseball again before I die. Which, come to think of it, might be on my way to work this morning if the flood waters keep rising and the Green Line finally submits to the tides that have been threatening to flood Kenmore station nigh on three days now.

Sorry, all this rain has me thinking biblically.

While I admit the snow-outs in Cleveland were amusing for novelty’s sake, all this rain has gotten a bit tiresome. The whole point of Patriots Day is for people to stand on the street and imbibe alcoholic beverages while cheering wildly for those crazy freaks that run 26.2 miles instead of taking a cab like a normal person. And for those of us who have to work to spew bile in their general direction. But all of this rain kind of takes the fun out of things. I end up feeling worse for the runners than I normally do (I mean, because, that’s a long damn way to run), and no one wants to stand in the rain and the cold to cheer them on.

Not to mention the baseball game that likely won’t happen. How can the city cause mass congestion in Kenmore Square by planning for the Sox game to let out just as the runners head into the square if there is no Sox game? How indeed. All those years of top notch city planning washed right down the drain. Tragic.

This is no way to spend a Marathon Monday. No way at all. I understand that after a relatively mild winter, snow-wise, you might feel the need to make up for the lack of precipitation in a different way but can’t you space it out a little? Major League Baseball has lost an awful lot of games due to rain this season and I don’t relish the day, late in July when the Sox have to make up three games in a day and are forced to play a game at 7am, fly to Cleveland, play the second game at 2pm and then fly backwards around the sun to reverse time so they can be in Oakland for a 7pm start. Unless you want to stop this rain thing sometime soon, they’re going to have no choice but to bend the rules of time and space to meet their needs. And that way lies madness.

I mean, you rained out Jackie Robinson Day, dude. That just ain’t cool. Although, while we’re on the subject, Rachel Robinson is one cool chick and I would like to extend an invitation to hang out with her anytime. In addition to looking completely amazing (she would look completely amazing for someone thirty years her junior, not to mention being 85), she is also a fantastic storyteller and a very, very brave woman. Drinks are on me, Rachel, we’ll have a time. Bring Vin Scully too and I will beg y’all to never stop telling stories.

But for serious? I’ll give you one more day of this and then I’m beginning construction on my Rain-A-Way tarp made of flattened Diet Coke bottles and Saran Wrap because I’ve had enough.

One more day. But if I see animals marching down the street, two by two, we’re gonna have words.

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