These late nights are killing me.
If I don't go to bed early (and I mean EARLY), I can't get up early. If I don't get up early, I don't get to write. If I don't get to write, then ... well ... um ...(MAJOR BRAIN JUMBLE).
But how often do I get to root for the home team in the playoffs? I mean, nothing much happens around here once the regular season is over (at least not since MJ retired, anyway). Frankly, if you really hate football, it's a nice place to live since we have the shortest football season of any major city. And with two baseball teams, you'd think we have more chances at post season play. The odds are in our favor, but there's a curse floating around, and just plain bad luck hovering over the south side.
It's raining in California tonight. Raining White Sox baseballs. I feel like I'm just waiting for the inevitable ... but the Sox just keep hitting and hitting and hitting. Could it be? Is tonight the night?
Last year the Red Sox (and my first love, my first hometown team) ended one of the longest droughts in baseball history. This year, tonight, the White Sox are about to end their longest drought without a Pennant (last one was 1959 for those of you who haven't heard at least 20,000 times), and go for the World Series. I'm just waiting up ... only three outs away ...
First batter ... strike one, strike two, ground out
2nd batter ... strike one, strike two, popped out
(They're making this look so easy, what took so long?!)
3rd batter ... fly ball
That's it, folks. THE WHITE SOX ARE GOING TO THE WORLD SERIES!
And now I can go to bed, a very happy Sox fan.