eight thoughts before we all settle in for eighteen innings of baseball1. Katie and I were at Wednesday afternoon's game, and even we don't want to talk about it.
2. Except, okay, one thing: it was quickly forgotten when it was all for naught, but how impressive was Lugo's eleven-pitch at-bat in the bottom of the ninth? I'm knocking on wood with one hand and typing with the other, but could the corner finally be turned?
3. After the game, we were musing about Katie's love of the creepy, Heathers-esque Dawn Timlin/Shonda Schilling friendship:
Katie: Sometimes, I think that when Mike Timlin dies, or when everyone finally realizes he's dead, that Dawn Timlin--4. I've done the math, and Clay Buchholz makes baby-faced Jon Lester look like the zombie Mike Timlin.
Kelly: Will start pitching for the Red Sox?
Katie:No, I was going to say, Dawn Timlin will become Curt Schilling's second wife, like on Big Love.
Kelly: Oh, good point.
5. He's also apparently allergic to ketchup?
6. My other favorite thing about that article is that he and Jacoby are roommates. I imagine that entertainment in that apartment involves Clay throwing his change-up at Jacoby when he's walking from the kitchen to the bathroom and Jacoby sprinting out of the way before the ball hits him in the face.
7. One more story about Wednesday afternoon's game that's not about Manny striking out -- we were there with a rare breed not often seen in the wild, a Devil Rays fan. At one point, I mockingly said, "No, I understand. Some of my best friends are Devil Rays fans. It's not their fault. They were just born that way." And the woman in front of me turned around and said, "You spend a lot of time hanging out with twelve year olds?"
8. But seriously, am I the only one who starts getting PTSD flashbacks just thinking about the Jimmy Fund Telethon double header? Last year's was pretty much the worst day of my summer, and keep in mind, I spent most of last summer attempting to date a Yankees fan. It's a good thing that experiment had run its course by mid-August of last year, otherwise I might have jumped off a ledge or something.