Welcome to Family, Ells

Ellie or Mookie?  DLG and G were arguing about the name for the new dog a couple of days before the BIG day.  I piped in with my oh so subtle guilt trip.

"What about Maddie?  That was the name of my dog growing up..."  I might was well have said "before she was tragically taken in a mafioso kidnapping" after that I was laying on it so thick.

Yes, the JMR family was adding another to its brood.  A little Golden doodle would be gracing us with its presence in just a few short days.  While I was counting the mouths that I had to feed (which is typically what I do, it was the role I was made for), everyone else was counting the days until we picked our new addition.  We were receiving videos and pictures of the new puppies every day.  Other expectant dog owners were getting all freaked about the puppies.  I thought I would contain my excitement.

Dog breeders creep me out so I stayed home with C for his baseball practice even though he was perfectly capable of driving himself (a story for another day).

Even though I was dreading the additional mouth to feed, as the day came, I had to say I was excited for the dog myself.    I'm not that much of a miserable SOB for God's sake! The pictures were rolling in as well as updates on where they were after they left the breeders house.

When everyone got home, "Ellie" started bounding around.  Did she know that this was going to be her new home?  I don't know for sure, but she immediately found a comfortable spot on the rug in the Living Room (what we call the big couch room) and stretched out. 

I'm sure we'll have plenty of stories with this little puppy.  So I'll leave it at this...Welcome to the Family Ells!

2018 - Another Year, Another World Series Parade

Things have changed a lot since 2013, and things haven't changed at all.  2013 was the last year that we celebrated a Red Sox World Series victory with the Duck Boat parade.  And while 2013 was different in that all of went to Fenway Park on a  Saturday morning and basically missed the whole thing, 2018 saw C, G and I go to the corner of Boylston and Tremont.  They didn't mind since they missed a day of school (What excuse will we give C so he doesn't get detention was a big brainstorm session that LC and I had all week?).

For the uninitiated (or for those from New York, Los Angeles, etc.), after a Boston team wins its championship, the team usually celebrates by getting on Boston's fleet of Duckboats and whips through the Back Bay, usually stopping somewhere around City Hall Plaza so everyone can cheer. I've gone to a couple of the Red Sox parades, a couple of the Patriots parades, and an ill conceived Bruins parade.  I've been lucky, I guess.  I've managed to enjoy myself and managed to avoid all of the Massholes who inevitably show up to these kinds of things.

It was this and 20 pictures of duck boats flying by.

Wednesday, 10am.  Boston.  Really, except for the overwhelming aroma of weed wafting through the air, this parade was similar to the Bruins parade we went to back when they won the Cup in 2011...except that I was happy that it happened.  We were at the turn from Boylston to Tremont.  I thought we got a good vantage point leaning up against a City of Boston Dump truck that was blocking other cars from going down Boylston toward Chinatown.  Little did I know that G did not like this spot.

Then the wait began.  I was probably the oldest in the group hugging Boylston Street by about 20-25 years as every high school student and college student in the greater Boston area decided to skip school.  The idiotic signs, the vaping, the immaturity.  It took me back to when I was that age (except for the vaping - what the Hell is that all about - it's like getting a Raspberry coffee at Starbucks).  The wait was shortened by watching the construction guys banging their hammers and start "Yankees Suck" chants.  It was kind of amusing, even through that chant is as tired as I am.  The crowd seemed less than electric, almost jaded, so when the police started tearing around the corner to signal that the Duck Boats were finally coming around the bend, it was heartening to see the crowd pick up its fervor.  "Let's go Red Sox" began to be the chant.  That's one I can get behind.

The first boats came by.  Steve Pierce, World Series MVP was on the first boat, followed by the entire organization that sits in the back room and mocks you when you pay $100 for an uncomfortable, too small of a seat.  One of the next duckboats had the hangers-on from previous World Series wins - Pedro, Big Papi and Varitek.  At least Jason Varitek was a part of the organization. 

After an endless array of staff duck boats, the boats with players started coming by.  In what was to be a portend of things to come, the players were throwing beer cans to the construction workers in the building across from us - most of the time missing and hitting the scaffolding below.  (Sorry bystanders below!)  Note to self not to enter that building on Tremont Street...those guys were drinking beer!  David Price continued to be defiant in the face of every single person to have doubted him.  Mookie was in the last boat with a bunch of guys I had never heard of.  Well, except for Tzu-Wei Lin.

Let the record show that I said Price was going to have a good Postseason - which was before his dumpster fire in Game 2 of the ALDS against the Yankees.

And then just like that, they were gone.  As we walked back to Southie for lunch, we had to dodge near fistfights and yelling and screaming.  Another year, another reversion back to being Massholes.

2018 ALCS - Price's Redemption?

Would this game be David Price's redemption?  His playoff teams (Tampa Bay, Toronto and the Red Sox) had never won a start that he made.  Forget about his win-loss record, his TEAM had not won a game he started.  That is an astounding achievement.  And his poor 1.3 innings in Game 2 of the ALDS against the Yankees did not seem to be a harbinger of good things to come.  All of that being said, G and I decided to make our way do down to Fenway Park for Game 2 of the ALCS against the Astros.

I had taken C to the ALCS during the Red Sox magical 2013 run, and watched a heartbreaking 1-0 shutout loss in Game 1 to Anibel Sanchez.  That game, I had C and G pick a number between 1 and 10.  Tears flowed and pouting ensued, but I explained to G back then that the Red Sox did not get a hit until the 9th inning, and it was too cold for him (That's a lie of course because it can never be too cold for him.  Now my explanation to C was that he had already seen a game and did he really want to sit in those cramped seats again to watch David Price blow it yet again?

C was still pissed...

4pm.  Boston.  Of course, I drove G's ball hawking buddies and we arrived approximately 8 hours early, hoping to get in before the crowds and watch batting practice.  Unlike the game earlier this season, G actually got a ball.  Event though he would have had two if he didn't muff a ball thrown to him that a 6 year old kid dove on the floor to steal away from him.

"Dad, my glove still isn't broken in!" G rationalized to no one in particular because I had stopped listening to that excuse 6 months prior when we got him the new glove.

Had to make up a photo op.

Our seats were farther up the grandstand and a little closer to Home Plate, than the tickets that I shared with friends of mine.  But the view was OK, considering there was a huge stanchion blocking the area between the mound and home plate.  I thought, well this isn't too bad until I missed a pivotal error in the first inning that helped the Red Sox take a 2-0 lead.  I guess it didn't matter because David Price immediately gave up the lead and then some by letting the Astros put up a 2 spot in the second inning and then two more in the third.  For crying aloud, does David Price suck! I thought to myself.

But just when I thought that this game was going to start to slip away, Jackie Bradley Jr. (of all batters) turned a Garrit Cole fastball around and hit a bases clearing double to take the lead again in the 4th inning 5-4.  Now all Price had to do was get through the 5th inning and he was in line for the win.  His first in 50 career Playoff starts (or something close to that)

Well that was not to be.  Price got two quick outs int eh Fifth Inning then walked two straight batters with the top of the lineup turning over.  After leaving with two outs in the Fifth, Price was one precious out away from possibly winning a start.   But it was not meant to be.

The Red Sox bullpen, led by Matt Barnes, Ryan Brazier and Rick Porcello, recorded three Holds while the Red Sox took a 7-4 lead.  And while Craig Kimbrel came in with some lighter fluid in the 9th Inning to make it interesting, the Red Sox won the game 7-5 to tie the ALCS up at 1-1.

And David Price got his first "team" win.  The first time in history a player boasted about a "team" win.  But baby steps are all we have...well that and a couple of baseballs.  

Boston Seaport - An Oral History

Oh boy, I thought to myself.  We have a 16 year old, a 14 year old and a 12 year old at this point and its always an adventure to get them to agree to do anything.  When Jen said she reserved a room in South Boston for the night and all 5 of us were going to go, I thought that the crap was going to hit the fan. 

What follows is an oral history of that weekend.

Friday

C:  I really did not want to go to Boston with Mom and Dad.  I wanted to play Fortnite in my dungeon lair (our basement) and tell my head set buddies how awful they are at the game.  I am Massachusetts Ninja.

G:  I really didn't want to go to Boston with Mom and Dad.  I want to play Fortnite in my office lair.  I want to stare at the TV from one foot away and tell my headset buddies how good I am.

DLG:  I wanted to go to Boston because I like hotels.  Wait, I have to sleep on the floor again?  Forget it, I just wanted to stay home and play on my iPad.  I hate sleeping on the floor.

Me:  I thought...Hell, if we can we get burgers and beers and leave the kids in the room alone on Friday night, I'm in, I guess.

Jen:  I just wanted to have all 5 of us do something fun.  I didn't think everyone would be complaining.

After lunch at Tony C's and a walk to the Faneuil Hall/Aquarium area we were already starting to get tired.

G:  My feet were killing me.

Me:  My feet were killing me, but I put on a brave face.  Also the sunset was pretty cool.

Best picture of five taken

Jen:  JMR's  and G's constant whining about the walk were really starting to annoy me.  At least C and DLG weren't noticeably unhappy.  Well at least not until I asked them to take a picture along the water.  That's when things really got out of hand.

C:  This sucked.  I was bored out of my mind.

DLG:  It was OK, although Mom and Dad did not want to buy me anything.  They kept saying no.  Stuffed animals - no.  Fancy pens and other art pieces, no.  Clothes - no.

After dropping them off in the room, Jen and I proceeded to hit the Town.  Going to a couple of bars and then out to eat at a Mexican restaurant that featured meth head customers and a clear drug dealer as a food runner.  Food was good.  We retired for the night around Midnight.

Saturday

G:  I had trouble sleeping since Jen and I were sharing a twin bed.  DLG was on the floor next to me, C was on a pull out and G had the other small bed.  I chose to walk around and get a Starbucks.

Eventually, everyone got their acts together and we made another trek to downtown.  This was an even farther walk, going to lunch int eh North End.

DLG:  I didn't like pizza, so I got spaghetti.

C:  I got pizza because I'm pickier than an 80 year old man.

G:  I got pizza because I couldn't decide.  But my feet hurt again.

We then made the brave decision to go back to Southie and go bowling.

Jen:  My foot hurt so I thought a good idea would be to take us all bowling.  No activity soothes feet like the stopping and starting of bowling in bowling shoes that are always 2 sizes too small.

C:  I'm the best bowler in the family.  It doesn't matter what our scores are.

G:  I'll go bowling but can we get an Uber back?

Me:  I would rather walk back.  Maybe they will forget about bowling.  Also, the peace and quiet of the solo walk back (the boys' bickering was driving me crazy)

DLG:  I decided to walk back with Dad.  He seemed sad that we were all going to Uber back to the bowling alley.

C:  Even though I was throwing gutter ball after gutter ball, my speed was off the charts.  Yeah it was an 8 pound ball, but it was flying!

Me:  My shoulder was going to be killing me after this.

Jen:  Ha! I had no intention of bowling, I just wanted to have a glass of wine without anyone bothering me to leave for an hour.

G:  I just wanted to rest.  I thought that maybe bowling with two hands would make things easier.  They didn't.  No one noticed that I almost fell over a couple of times.

C:  At least I wasn't falling over throwing the ball.

After a couple of minutes at the Park on D, we then headed home.  Everyone got what they wanted at that point.

C: Fortnite

G:  Fortnite and a chair

DLG:  Home to my bed.

Jen:  Home to the couch.

Me:  I guess I'll do the laundry, dishes and lawn.

South Carolina is Hot in the Summer - Chick Fil A Edition

Charleston, South Carolina is really hot in the Summer.  I mean really hot.  Think about how hot it is where you are right now.  That is nowhere near how hot it is in Charleston in the Summer.

With this as a backdrop, C had his annual baseball field trip for his AAU team.  Three years ago, it was Flemington, New Jersey.  Two years ago it was Omaha, Nebraska.  Last year it was Reading and Hershey, Pennsylvania.  This year, we were on our way to the Lowcountry.  At least it was an interesting area outside of baseball.

Day 1.  The team won handily in its first game, beating a team from North Carolina (or South Carolina, I get those places mixed up) at the College of Charleston's baseball park, which is actually in Mount Pleasant.  C played LF and walked a couple of times.

No Bueno

In the second game, C was scheduled to pitch.  It was what I was told to be the best team in our pool.  C came out firing the ball.  An uncatchable pop up was the only difference between a goose egg and one run.  We were down 1-0 after one half inning.  As we're warming up to hit in the bottom of the first, a storm cloud appeared out of nowhere.  The oppressive heat was shoved aside by 40 mph winds.  Not long after came the downpours.  And Jesus did it rain hard for a couple of hours. It didn't stop us from making a sprint for the car after the game was cancelled.

Day 2.  For some reason, C was brought on to pitch the following game on the following day at a high school field on Daniel Island (where I will retire one day).  Questionable decision making by the coach since C was telling me about his dead arm that night.  The game did not go well after the first couple of innings.  Usually throwing the ball in the low to mid 80s, C's fastball was more of a batting practice fastball.  After 3 runs in 2 innings, C was taken out.  Although we rallied toward the end of the game, we ended up losing 4-2. 

In the second game at Charleston Southern University (A division 1 school that I had never heard of), we played arguably the worst team.  C was playing CF this game so he was hitting this game.  After two more walks (or maybe a HBP, who knows) and 4 stolen bases, C hit a deep fly ball to Left Center.  It was well struck and it is.....Caught a few steps from the fence.  We ended up winning this game a lot to a little.

College of Charleston - Brett Gardner Territory

Day 3.  For some reason, C was brought on to pitch against the team he pitched against on Day 1 back at College of Charleston.  Serious deja vu right now.  The Coach was so pissed at another kid for screwing up a bunt play that apparently he didn't notice that C was barely getting the ball over the plate yesterday, and when he did he was throwing it about as hard as a 10 year old.  Maybe he thought this team would be flummoxed by change up after change up?  Regardless, C gutted through a tough outing, giving up 4 total runs in 4 innings.  The coach ended up giving up the game and we lost a lot to a little. 

Now the waiting game was upon us.  We were 2-2, and gave up 15 runs.  Runs allowed would determine whether we made the playoffs or not.  At the end, we were found to be the 8 seed.  While the playoffs are nice, we would have to win 4 more games to win the tournament.  With our pitching in shambles, this was not going to work out that great.  Unfortunately, I was right.  We ended up getting a mercy rule game in the 8-9 play in game.  Tournament over.

Jesus, its Monday early afternoon and we don't go home until Thursday.  Well at least C had a good time with his buddies for most of the time (I forced him to go to dinner with me once and forced him to go to Fort Sumter as well).  Me personally, I spent the next tow days walking around in the oppressive heat and humidity and then went to dinner with friends.  All in all an enjoyable time.

Next weekend?  That's right, G on the Cape.  Or is it playoffs in New Hampshire and Maine?  I can't keep track.