*Image courtesy of Matt Stone*It's one of the 7 wonders of the world that I actually get to watch as many Red Sox games as I do, considering I have 3 children, including one who's main objective is to apparently see me stroke out before I hit 40. Somehow I've figured out a way to maintain 4 separate conversations at once, be a cup filling/snack getting machine, and keep the laundry going while at the same time more or less keep up with the action on the screen.
Any other aspect of following the Sox and baseball is usually achieved after the hour of 9 pm, which is when it's more or less quiet, depending on how many times Trot decides to get up after being put to bed and whether Ange watched Lifetime that afternoon and wants to have a deep discussion while all I wanna do is veg.
Which is why, even though it happened a week ago, I put a picture of Pedro up tonight. Reading the Boston Herald online I stumbled across THIS fantastic story of how one of the greatest players I've ever seen took some time to tell a fading hero that he wasn't quite done yet. All Tek did was hit two bombs in his first start of the season.
I guess I shouldn't expect anything less from a guy who once said "Wake up the Damn Bambino. Maybe I'll drill him in the ass too."
Somebody tell Theo to plant a Mango tree at Fenway and bring Pedro home.
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