While I was watching the first 4 innings of the game, Rakes and Trot were pretending I was Mt. Everest.
There were 539 near misses to the marbles, 17 falls off the ottoman, and 5.7 instances of one of them yelling "Catch me, Dad!" Just so you know, I was giving them a Red Sox pop quiz the whole time, making sure they knew who was up and why a foul ball with 2 strikes didn't mean it was an out.
I'm not sure they got everything I was teaching them, but I do know they realize the Yankees suck, Jeter is a tool, and when Dad yells "Get Out Ball!" it usually means a round of high fives, smiles, and me lapping the living room like Carl Lewis.
Sox win 5-1 and the Rays are given a Fenway Park welcome to Big Boy Baseball.
To quote Eminem:
"The clock's run out, time's up over, blouww!Snap back to reality, Oh there goes gravity."
This is the AL East, boys.
We play for keeps.
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