Congratulations to the Boston Red Sox. You've finally won that elusive World Series.
And now, my warning to all Boston Red Sox fans and bandwagon devotees- if I ever hear you talk about that stupid fictitious curse, if I ever hear you whining about the Yankees' payroll when yours is almost as high, if I ever hear the words "Bambino," "Bucky," or "1986" again- I will kick you. Hard, and repeatedly, in the most painful spots I can get to. Because you have officially lost the right to whine.
My God, this is huge. What will half the Boston fan base be without their curse? What will happen to the Boston sportswriting community now that they've lost their easy cliche? What will all of them do next time they don't win, when they've lost their easy excuse for losing?
Hopefully, they'll turn into another team, just like all the others. This year was good for both Boston and New York, I think. Boston can stop whining and New York can stop acting as if its yearly division titles are preordained. Realistically, I think the sportswriters in both cities are too ingrained in their old habits to really change and try to think of new ideas, but by golly, they won't find it so easy to pass them off as truisms anymore.
So congratulations, Boston Red Sox. You won just like the Yankees did- with smart deals, lots of money, and a little bit of luck. So if you spend your victory parade chanting "Yankees Suck," don't be surprised if a few of your fans end up with bruises from yours truly.
My week of vacation involved four shows and a lot of sushi. In other words, it was good. In between California rolls and eel, I saw Movin' Out, Twelve Angry Men, Last Easter, and Avenue Q. So since I need a writing exercise to occupy my mind, I'm going to review them, plus some of the shows I saw in the summer- Assassins, Chicago, Frozen, and I Am My Own Wife. I don't feel so bad about adding spoilers to some of those reviews now since most of the shows in question are closed. Or, you know, Oscar-winning movies. :)
So what did I do when I wasn't watching shows? I hung around the city a lot, so I got to see Curt Schilling and Johnny Damon exiting a building under heavy police protection to get into the team bus. It was the day after Schilling blew his first ALCS start, so he was getting a lot of Bronx cheers. Johnny Damon had his hair tied up in a half-ponytail like a girl. Ah, good times. (As I write the Yankees are losing Game 7 8-1. So let me keep my happy memories.)
Other than that, I slept a lot. And I ate even more. After a while, it's easy to forget there's real food in the world, and that the stuff they serve in the dining hall usually doesn't qualify. Strangely, my pants are looser now than they've been in a while. I'm going to need to invest in belts.
Well, I have to say today was...balanced. If you can call a bipolar mix of disaster and good fortune balanced.
On the one hand, I got to go to New York City. On the other hand, I got got to go to New York City in a cramped van that inevitably got caught in Manhattan traffic. (I knew we should have taken the subway, dammit.)
On this trip, we got lots of free time to just relax and idle outside. Unfortunately, we got that free time because the van got a flat tire on the way home. See what I mean by a mix of good and bad?
I came home and found out the Astros had clinched the wild card, which was good news for one of my beloved Yankees-stuck-in-Texas, Roger Clemens. On the other hand, said ex-Yankee had to skip his start today because of a stomach virus. Ew.
On the one hand, I woke up at 8 this morning and didn't get back to campus until 7:30 at night. On the other hand, I just bought a ticket to Pacific Overtures.
When in doubt, the goodness of Sondheim always wins. So I think despite everything, I'll call today a good day.