Word, little dude.
Really, there is nothing to say. There are no words. I heard the score of the first Friday game when my Mom and I pulled into the parking lot of the Chinese restaurant and thought I was high. I watched part of the night game and went to bed while the Sox were still ahead. Clearly, they were upset I left them alone. I thought they couldn't possibly lose Saturday's game too. They did. Then I thought they couldn't lose Sunday's game. Oh, they did.
Whatever. I still love the Sox, even when they're imploding. The playoff hopes look increasingly bleak, but I will care until they pack up their stuff for the season and hit the links. I've got tickets to the Futures at Fenway game this weekend, so I can watch my true hometown team play, secure in the knowledge that they won't have a shot at the playoffs since they're ten games back.
Also, I'd like to mention that my blog has hit the 50,000 views milestone. Only about 25% of those views were me looking for comments, so I'd like to thank you all for your continued visits. My, how these blogs grow up so fast. Soon the template will be rolling its eyes at me and complaining about a curfew.
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