The Seeker

A Meta-Cognitive Journal About Writing… Plus Other Stuff

Cheating on my Girlfriend– Day 19

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This illicit affair I’m having behind the Cubs’ back is working out far different than I could ever have imagined. I thought at this point I would be writing about the joyous hours I have spent watching the Cardinals carve their way to the World Series; instead, I haven’t had cause to write a word about them for almost 2 weeks. That’s not to say this hasn’t been an interesting dalliance, or one that I regret. Far from it. I’ve come to appreciate an entirely different team for the same reasons I love the Cardinals in the first place: they’re playing beautiful baseball.

Up to this point in my life, I either was indifferent to Philadelphia, or hated them. But I only hated them because my brother Rob loved them and cheered for them in the most obnoxious ways imaginable. But I have to admire Rob’s dedication. It wasn’t easy to follow the Phillies 500 miles away from Veteran’s Stadium where we grew up in northeast Indiana; the only time he could hope to see the likes of Mike Schmidt and Steve Carlton was during the playoffs, maybe on a weekend baseball game, or through rare highlights on This Week in Baseball. When the Phillies won the 1980 World Series, he went so far as to get a couple of t-shirts made. Each shirt was oh-so-typical 80s: white torso, red 3/4-length sleeves. Across the chest, one shirt announced, “1980 Philadelphia Phillies / National League Champions;” the other, “1980 Philadelphia Phillies / World Series Champions.” He opted to show his pride with puffy felt iron-on letters that even a blind man could have read if he traced each one with his finger. The shirts were about as subtle as chainsaws and served only to underscore his obnoxious cheering tendencies, which put him on par with most Philadelphia sports fans (I’ve read that they are the worst in sports). But maybe that speaks to our family roots. Our father was born and raised in Pennsylvania, so maybe some of that obnoxiousness is part of our genetic makeup.

*

I’ve elevated the status of the ALCS to “intriguing,” if only because the Angels are still in it. It defies baseball logic that the Yankees aren’t resting up for a showdown with the Phillies as I write this. If the absurdity of the series continues, there will definitely be a Game 7 tomorrow night. I just can’t get my head around some of the things that happened Thursday night: How can the Angels give up 6 runs in one inning of a playoff game and still win? How can they allow the Yankees to load the bases with 2 outs in the top of the ninth, run the count full, and still escape unscathed? And where are the cold-blooded Yankees who have stabbed me in the heart so many times by pulling out improbable wins?

I read this morning that there are a lot of questions surrounding Joe Girardi’s relief pitching decisions before he gets to Mariano Rivera. I wrote about that a few days ago when I attributed the Angels’ first win in the series more to Girardi’s ill-fated decision to pitch Alfredo Aceves than to the Angels’ ability to play good ball in the clutch. But maybe Mike Scioscia knows that middle relief is the Yankees’ weakness, and he’s banking on his team to exploit that. It doesn’t sound like the best plan since the Yankees’ starters can usually put the game in Mariano Rivera’s lap, but then again you can wear down even the best pitchers through disciplined and patient at-bats. If the Angels can do that, then they have a window of opportunity before Rivera takes the mound.

Why the hell can’t the Cubs figure out stuff like this?

*

I mentioned in Day 2 that I was thinking about contacting my ex-girlfriend. Once I finished using a journal last week that she bought me for my birthday, I figured I had a good excuse to call. So I did. We had a nice conversation, both of us inquiring about the relationship status of the other, both of us surprised that the other had a recent breakup. There wasn’t much insinuation to the whole thing– there can’t be much insinuation when so much is right on the surface. I thought for the past week about her situation, my situation, and the cordiality and fondness that still exists between us; in fact, I thought so much about it that I figured I should put myself out there and see if she would like to get together. I called her again two nights ago and asked if she was interested in going to a local corn maze this weekend. She turned me down; something about the start of a new relationship and her not wanting anything with me to interfere with that.

This won’t be the last time we talk.

Before you laugh out loud about the corn maze idea, I would encourage you to go to one. They’re a ton of fun for a cold Fall day. But not so much fun that I would go to one by myself.

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Written by seeker70

October 24, 2009 at 4:46 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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