Wasn't that just an awful game last night? I didn't watch it; rather, I did something I haven't done in just about forever: I actually sat and listened to the entire game on the radio. Now, lest you think I was doing this as some sort of exercise in getting back to the roots of the sport, let me dispel that notion posthaste. I did it because I am currently recovering from a rather nasty bout of the consumption (my mother suggests it may, in fact, simply be a touch of the flu, but I disagree, and the staff here at the sanitarium has been most supportive), and was unable to do anything but lie in bed last night. Rather than turn on the television, I simply shut off all the lights in the house and tuned the radio to whatever station it is the Cardinals are on now. (I also watched the last few episodes of Cowboy Bebop on my laptop as well, but that sort of destroys the picture I'm trying to create here, so just ignore it.)
Funny thing is, I've often complained about the awful media coverage we regularly receive in this town, but I was shocked to hear just how truly pitiful KTRS really is. Not once did they manage to come back from break before at least one pitch was thrown. Mike Shannon seems to have gotten exponentially more senile since I last really listened to a ballgame. Worst of all, though, were the promos I was forced to listen to between innings. When Frank O. Pinion's show sounds like the most intelligent program being advertised, you begin to realise just how low humanity can truly sink. It is, to be completely honest with you, appalling. (And if you happen to be a Frank O. Pinion fan, um, well, never mind. I can't think of a nice, or even decent, way of ending that sentence. Sorry.)
Phew. Sorry, everyone. Just had to get that off my chest.
Anyhow, a while back, just after the season began, I took one Wednesday and just opened up the floor to everyone, and we had a nice conversation. It was a bit of work for me to keep up with, but I thought it was also a lot of fun. Well, seeing as how I have a couple free hours this morning, I still feel like hell, and don't have anything at all nice to say about last night's game, why don't we try that again?
Ask whatever you like, baseball related or not, and I'll do my best to at least make something up if I don't have an actual answer. I've got until about 11:30 or so, plenty of time to generate some conversation. (Or cowversation, for one of our more notable posters.) We can talk about the draft, my love for Ski soda in the glass bottles, or how much I miss my old neighbour who used to raise chickens and always brought me the best eggs man has ever known. (Unwashed, too, so they didn't have to be refrigerated.)
Daniel Barenboim on the stereo, soothing my troubled soul with Beethoven's "Pathetique". Let's have a chat, shall we?