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Archive for the ‘baseball’ Category

Having had my ticket to see the Twins play the Pirates stolen before we left town made things interesting, as far as getting into McKechnie Field (“Southern Home of the Pirates”) goes. StubHub, who supposedly guarantee the tickets we bought in December of 2008, and which were stolen 6 days before we left town, was worthless as far as getting me a re-printed ticket.

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My friend G is a big Frank Lloyd Wright fan, as is my wife. I liked the house, too, especially for all its unique features, the clever corner windows, cube upon cube, which open out to let in the breeze on hot days. Given the cookie cutter Levittown reality of post-war ranch house suburban America, it would be great if more of us could enjoy the unique features Wright built into this house in adapting it to the terrain. Yet I’m not quite as gung-ho on Wright as G and Mrs. Ombud are.

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No more excuses

I have no excuse.
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I turned on the Giants game last night and was amused, mildly surprised, and bemused by the thunderous boos Barry Bonds received at Dodger stadium. I heard later that it got vicious in parts of the stands, with at least one fight breaking out.

Which surprised me a bit because the Dodgers fans I’ve known have always made such a point of how laidback they are, as if the root word of fan were not fanatic.
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Leftovers

Okay, I had some leftovers from that tagging exercise, and am told I should have included some of these.
What, you didn’t like my idiosyncratic corporeal musings?
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My fears about the Giants are gradually being realized. I was afraid their bullpen problems would come back to bite them in the butt, and it’s happening. Tuesday night the bullpen once again gave up the game in extra innings.
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“We’re Yankees fans. New York is supposed to be in the world series,” their eyes half-close as Yankees fans say these things, in smug self-satisfaction. This winter I had several Yankee fans explain their version of baseball reality to me this way.
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We have a German shepherd mix (the mix probably something like greyhound — see what you think here) who has gone from young and fleet to acting like an old guy remarkably fast — it might be one of the fastest trips through middle age ever made.
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Man oh man, it got hot here fast. I took the dogs out at dawn and could have worn shorts. Mid-summer fry an egg on a sidewalk hot now. And here I am with a pile of leftover notes from the weekend’s posts, including Wittgenstein. But I ought to have my wits about me for that, and it’s too hot. Even in shirtsleeves during my walk down Market street just before 8 AM this morning, it was sticky.

Besides, I have a story to tell — a story involving deception and skullduggery and secrets and male pranks.
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After we watched a DVD together last night, I truly meant to relinquish the remote to my wife and head down to my ground floor den, with the computer cockpit and and the flat screen TV. To watch a ballgame, tend the blog, and let my wife watch high drama forensics, performed in tight clothes with tense dialog, upstairs. Truly. But I couldn’t get up. My easy chair ate my spine, I was a dazed victim, a long workday laggard, with a working remote in hand.
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