Hot dayum, it’s a good time to be a New England sports fan. Red Sox win the series for the second time. Patriots are kicking ass, taking names and have yet to drop a 1 in the L column. Looking forward to the celebration, where I assume Beckett will be goaded into riverdancing with Papelbon. And watch out, baseball world, because Jacoby Ellsbury is on his way to being one of the greatest players to ever play the game. Hopefully we’ll sign him to some ground-breaking 20-year contract.
Speaking of contracts, A-Rod’s reported to be going on the market. Oh, pleasepleasepleaseplease let him come to Boston. (And not for 3B like the idiots were talking about, but for SS. Sorry, Lugo.) JH should be on the phone with Boris right now playing up how awesome it would be to not have to play second fiddle to that :censor:ing Jeter.
Anyway, I’m so glad it’s over. I. Need. Sleep. Seriously, going to seven in the ALCS, followed by four WS games (1am on Saturday, after midnight last night) was brutal. Screw healthcare, I’ll vote for the candidate who promises to enact a law forcing postseason games to start at 6pm eastern.
Between baseball and my short kid going through some kind of emotional meltdown (he cried more this weekend than he has in the last two years—I think a lot of fears and bottled-up stuff from my dad passing away caught up with him), I totally blew sweating with Sven. I’ll have to seriously do some catch up this week.
Right after I’m done napping…