First: yesterday. I jetted to New York in the morning and spent a nice few hours with my mom and grandma in Brooklyn. We sat around the kitchen table eating -- what else? -- Bagel Boss bagels, thick with cream cheese. "These are better than usual," my grandmother quipped, and indeed they were: soft, chewy, and eminently satisfying. I flew home in the evening, and we'll see what happens. My brother flew from L.A. today and will be going to Brooklyn tomorrow.
Now: today. It got pretty cold (and in fact, it's cold now, after midnight as I write this), and a lump formed in the collective throat of the Fenway Faithful after Okajima's "okie-dokie" pitch failed to fool the Angels in the eighth, but the bottom of the ninth was worth the (staggering) price of admission. We won! Now: on to the pennant, where our once-and-always left fielder, Jason Bay, will doubtless continue terrorizing the unusually successful Rays of Tampa Bay, a team name and location that will probably always sound foreign to the purists of the game. It's funny; my brother saw the Dodgers clinch their division series in L.A. over the weekend, and I just saw the Sox win their division series, and they may yet meet in the playoffs. Manny, Nomar, Derek Lowe back in Boston? Managed by Joe Torre? Stranger things may have happened, but I can't think of any of them.
... Isn't this a running blog? Never a better day for a rest. (As per the plan, of course.)
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