a single white moth
flutters through the infield.
Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts
Thursday, August 25, 2016
Posted with Blogsy
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
April 7: Opening Day
From yesterday, of course:
Robins crowd every field.
Red Sox on the radio--
Opening Day.
Sunday, March 15, 2015
Monday, April 7, 2014
Monday, October 7, 2013
October 7: Postseason
As the autumn leaves glow dimly through the mist in the dying light of this October evening, the Red Sox third playoff game vs. the Tampa Bay Rays in a five-game ALDS series has just gotten underway.
Bottom of the first.
Spaghetti sauce simmers
while I knit, anxiously.
Bottom of the first.
Spaghetti sauce simmers
while I knit, anxiously.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
September 12: Football Season
The time of year when the start of football season overlaps with the end of baseball season is often a challenge, as we find ourselves getting distracted from the Red Sox playoff run by the Patriots' return to action. But this year it's a bit different, with the Red Sox having no chance at the playoffs. And Tom Brady is back. So really not much of a toss-up over which gets my attention.
Unfortunately I wasn't near a tv until half-time for the opening season game vs. the Cincinnati Bengals. I got to see the score: 24 - 3 Patriots. And then I got to see the first play of the 3rd quarter before I had to go back to my table at the restaurant. If I had to see one play, it was a good one. Brandon Tate handily ran in a punt return for a touchdown. It was fist-pumping awesome. Those who remember George Carlin's classic monologue on baseball versus football can understand the mood shift this new sport season initiates. After summer's slow pastorale on the baseball diamond, we now get the rough-and-tumble action of football.
And to keep things interesting, this weekend also features the championship matches of the US Open for tennis. Last night we watched Kim Clijsters easily win the women's final; thanks to rain in New York, tomorrow night we'll get to root for Nadal in the men's final. I'm an unabashed sports fan, I guess--it's (almost) all good. This jumble of sports keeps me energized. Even yesterday's road race that the Land Trust hosted in Belfast was a small thrill for me to observe, because it's a sport that I used to be fairly good at myself. Also, I enjoy a sport in which women have a good shot at doing as well as men. And, of course, it's always fun to be able to cheer on friends who are competing at something. We're just like that.
Slow fade of baseball,
football season rushes in.
We're still so tribal.
Unfortunately I wasn't near a tv until half-time for the opening season game vs. the Cincinnati Bengals. I got to see the score: 24 - 3 Patriots. And then I got to see the first play of the 3rd quarter before I had to go back to my table at the restaurant. If I had to see one play, it was a good one. Brandon Tate handily ran in a punt return for a touchdown. It was fist-pumping awesome. Those who remember George Carlin's classic monologue on baseball versus football can understand the mood shift this new sport season initiates. After summer's slow pastorale on the baseball diamond, we now get the rough-and-tumble action of football.
And to keep things interesting, this weekend also features the championship matches of the US Open for tennis. Last night we watched Kim Clijsters easily win the women's final; thanks to rain in New York, tomorrow night we'll get to root for Nadal in the men's final. I'm an unabashed sports fan, I guess--it's (almost) all good. This jumble of sports keeps me energized. Even yesterday's road race that the Land Trust hosted in Belfast was a small thrill for me to observe, because it's a sport that I used to be fairly good at myself. Also, I enjoy a sport in which women have a good shot at doing as well as men. And, of course, it's always fun to be able to cheer on friends who are competing at something. We're just like that.
Slow fade of baseball,
football season rushes in.
We're still so tribal.
Monday, April 5, 2010
April 5: Another Season Begins
Hallowed rite of spring:
crack of ball on bat; third out--
Red Sox beat Yankees!
Last night a new baseball season began, complete with a lot of pageantry, a deep-seated rivalry, and a satisfying come-from-behind win: Red Sox versus Yankees on opening night at Fenway. Both teams received the courtesy of a full introduction, from the bat boys and massage therapists on up to the starting pitchers (Beckett, Sabathia). Old Johnny Pesky made an appearance, Lowell got a standing ovation (as a back-up player), a smiling Pedro threw the first pitch, Neil Diamond came out to sing "Sweet Caroline" in person in the 8th inning, and the Sox won 9-7 despite being down 5-1 at one point. Of course, it all meant staying up till midnight, because Red Sox-Yankees games always run at least four hours. And it all came back in those four hours--the thrill of this placid but nerve-wracking sport: watching your favorite players make good plays, a 7-pitch 1-2-3 inning, the solid thwack of a well-hit ball, an unexpected homer, the ethereal green field under the lights, the crowd chanting "Yankees suck!" and the anticipation as Papelbon pitches for the final out of the ninth... We were all yawning in the office today, but also smiling.
crack of ball on bat; third out--
Red Sox beat Yankees!
Last night a new baseball season began, complete with a lot of pageantry, a deep-seated rivalry, and a satisfying come-from-behind win: Red Sox versus Yankees on opening night at Fenway. Both teams received the courtesy of a full introduction, from the bat boys and massage therapists on up to the starting pitchers (Beckett, Sabathia). Old Johnny Pesky made an appearance, Lowell got a standing ovation (as a back-up player), a smiling Pedro threw the first pitch, Neil Diamond came out to sing "Sweet Caroline" in person in the 8th inning, and the Sox won 9-7 despite being down 5-1 at one point. Of course, it all meant staying up till midnight, because Red Sox-Yankees games always run at least four hours. And it all came back in those four hours--the thrill of this placid but nerve-wracking sport: watching your favorite players make good plays, a 7-pitch 1-2-3 inning, the solid thwack of a well-hit ball, an unexpected homer, the ethereal green field under the lights, the crowd chanting "Yankees suck!" and the anticipation as Papelbon pitches for the final out of the ninth... We were all yawning in the office today, but also smiling.
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