The Weekend Wrap

I went to my first Sox game in an age. I've been to handful of Red Sox games at Fenway and yet have never seen them win a game in person. That's over stating it though… I've never even see them play well in person! They've been spanked, losing by 9, 10, 11 runs. The only benefit was paying for a bleachers seat and ending up 3 rows behind the dug out by the 5^th inning!
 

So Saturday night, I went to see them in St. Pete against the Devil Rays. Strangest thing though, I walked in and there were THOUSANDS of Red Sox fans. You couldn't turn around without stepping on someone wearing some sort of Sox merchandise. It was just so very bizarre to witness when they were on the road and I'm walking in with my Red Sox cap on expecting to catch lip from frat boy Devil ray fans. Whenever the Sox did something great (surprise, surprise, I saw a little bit of greatness in person this time), the Sox fans completely drowned out the Rays' fans. And when the Rays did something good (unexpected though it was), their celebrations were completely over ridden by hostile Boston fans. To make it even more a baffling experience for me, Boston won which NEVER happens when I go to see them. Obviously I'm only allowed to watch in person on the road!? Anyway, complete twilight zone episode overall. Below...Mr. J. Varitek... [for KD].

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On Sunday, I went fishing….which is good, I like fishing and I haven't been at all this year. I particularly like fishing when it's warm out and I can multi-task by both fishing and cooking (me, not the fish, I like to be tan). The part of fishing that eludes me personally is the mentality that you have to fish in the rain or at 2am to do it properly. It's just not necessary. I can fish perfectly well in the light of day at 3pm whilst tanning. Occasionally, I'll even catch something. The point of this is that I agreed to go fishing for the day on Sunday with my Dad, his mate and some other people. A day fishing? Brilliant, count me in.  

The part of the 'fishing itinerary' which was apparently not explained very well was that I'd be home by lunch, I must have missed that part and the dangerous meaning behind it. I got home from the Sox game (a night game of course) and set about deciding what to make for sandwiches, my Dad tells me we don't need sandwiches. " Of course we need sandwiches," I replied, "we'll be hungry at lunch time." And my father tells me we'll be home at lunch time. WHAT? How can we possibly be home at lunch time? I thought we were going fishing for the day, you know like 5 or 6 hours, we'll need sustenance surely. He explains to me that I need to be up at 4am. WHAT? 4 am? That's not morning, that's nighttime! No one said anything about nighttime. My father regularly gets up at such times and considers me to be wasting my day off if I sleep paste 8 am. He has, for as long as I can remember, functioned perfectly well with a fraction of the sleep most of us get. I, on the other hand, turn into an axe wielding psychotic grizzly bear after too many night of only four hours sleep or less.

So now I'm looking at my watch in horror because it's already nearly 12:30 am and all I can think of is Monty Python's 'Four Yorkshiremen' sketch with Eric Idle going "I used to have to get up in the morning at 10 o'clock at night a half an hour before I went to bed." So I did. Get up at 4 am. And I insisted on taking a shower before we left because otherwise I couldn't chisel my eye lids apart. And we did go fishing. And we fought many honourable battles against the ocean's greatest warriors and here is what I have to show for it….

Oh, and I guess I have this to show for it too which is proof that it's not that bad to be up at 4am... once the grizzly bear syndrome wears off.  Maybe.