The last couple days the Cubs have reformed as one team and have been playing the A's, and they still haven't won, but that's okay because these games only mean something if someone important gets hurt. Like how the Pirates lost their best pitcher for a few months when he bunted a ball off of his eye. That sounds like something I could do. That or I'd break my ankle rounding first. One time while playing softball in high school, I got run over while playing first base and got a minor concussion--so far the only concussion that I remember.
I've been plenty distracted by this head/chest cold the last handful of days. I haven't been able to take a deep breath since last Wednesday. Sometimes when I'm trying to fall asleep I imagine myself as a tortured tubercular artist balancing art with death, but honestly I've mostly just been watching a lot of Top Gear and American Dad. Sometimes I think that's what's making me ill.
I read somewhere that Dale Sveum is a no-nonsense type of manager. I could use him as my own personal manager because I am all about nonsense.
Somewhere on this hard drive I have a handful of short essays concerning baseball and other things, though not so much about baseball as about other things. Having reread these little shorts, I have begun to remove the word "socioeconomic(s)" from them all because nothing good or interesting can come from using that word and I'd really like to know what kind of Marx-train I was on at the time. I don't recall climbing on any red engines, but perhaps I have. Perhaps I should be more aware of the trains I climb on. In any case, those soapbox essays are being reworked, and they may or may not be posted around here at later dates as I see fit or unfit.
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