(Photo from Boston.com)
The thing is, baseball is a lovely sport and I enjoy it a great deal and spend a lot of time watching it. But coffee is lifeblood and I cannot possibly be expected to digest baseball before coffee. Trust me, y’all didn’t want me rising all bleary-eyed and crazy-haired and attempting to interact with people either at a drinking establishment or at a friend’s house this morning. To say nothing of my friends. They’re great people and I love them but I usually have to think twice about approaching any of them without a helmet and a pitchfork before a certain hour. It wouldn’t be pretty. Most mornings I yell at my coffee maker to “work faster, dammit!” so I’m relatively certain this would have resulted in something untoward going down. Plus, you know, I had to get ready for work. At my real job.
I did, however, pause in my mad hair-drying, boots-finding, cat-moving from on top of new skirt-ing to watch David Ortiz’s at bat in the fifth inning. Because it’s Papi. And it’s a baseball game. And even though it’s in Japan and was played, I don’t know, tomorrow for all I can tell, some things never change. Papi commands attention.
But they’ll replay the game tonight. And tonight I’ll have thoughts on it. Tonight I look forward to listening to Jerry Remy wax poetic about all the things he finds odd about Japan and all the things he loves, like the fact that despite the language barrier, he can still order food from the concession stand by pointing to a picture of the food he’d like. Like in Denny’s when you can’t bring yourself to order a “Moons Over My Hammy” so you just point. Oh, Remdawg. Don’t ever leave us.
So yes, I’ll have more thoughts tonight. But for now? Coffee.