Had a good time at some friend’s house on Sunday, played some basketball, rowed around their lake, and ate a lot of junk. Now I have some poison ivy slowly making its mark on my left hand. I woke up last night scratching it. Huh, weird, because I have the sense when I am awake to leave it be.
When I was young, I used to get covered in the junk. Then I thought I built up an immunity after one extreme case (that sidelined me from little league for a couple games) after the doctor prescribed steroids cleared it up. I guess I was wrong. Thankfully it is not that extreme.
Eric Wilbur’s blog had an interesting article about the many fair weather pink hat brigade fans that have popped up since the Red Sox won it in 2004. I am not sure how I feel about them. On the one hand, it is nice to have more people getting into the sport of baseball, but on the other, I have always been a fan of the underdog. I was never a band wagon fan, my allegiance was always with the Pats, Bruins, C’s, and Sox. Now two of those four have become ridiculously popular. Reading some of the emails sent to Wilbur, I especially appreciated one fan’s recollection of the team from Mo Vaughn’s day. That guy was a true monster at the plate. He was also a mostly formidable first baseman. The whole era happened during my junior high and high school days. There were plenty of close calls, but the comradeship of other fans was unsurpassed then.
Now I barely blink if I notice another Red Sox hat. In fact, I never wear any of mine anymore. My bumper sticker on my window has faded so that you cannot even make out that it also had the 7-11 logo on it. I have yet to buy one of those nice pink hats though.