i had a dream that i was on a mission to kill whoever it was who made the foxwoods leprechaun commercial that has been running almost non-stop on nesn since st. patrick’s day. despite the fact that it was a secret mission, red sox nation, acting as a single cohesive unit and also somehow, totally in secret, sent me a sacred bat with which to carry out my sacred duty. in the dream, i did not find this mysterious. i woke up in the wee morning hours, tied a red bandana around my head, hooked the bat to the inside of my black overcoat, slipped on a pair of those fingerless gloves worn by dickensian orphans or homicidal maniacs and got into the back of a black limo that was to take me to my fateful destination. unfortunately, this is the point where i woke up for real. whether the subject of the “mercy killing” (as i’ll call it) is the leprechaun guy, marty of u.s. rv, or bob of bob’s nasal and extremely annoying furniture, i’m pretty sure that i’m not the only person in new england who has had this dream.
September 28, 2005
September 27, 2005
there was a period of my life, roughly 9-16 years of age, where I contracted no illnesses whatsoever. barely even a cold. those days seem now so far gone. for in the stretch of a mere year and a half i've gotten the sampler, a little bit of everything. listed chronologically, these are my health mishaps:
-stomach flu (the night before a final)
-stomach ulcer (probably brought on by fresca and following politics)
-sinus infection (probably brought on by the sox falling down 0-3 last year)
-wisdom tooth surgery
and now, my crowning achievement:
a few hours ago, in what was a truly bizarre moment in recreational softball history, i managed to injure my knee not while dramatically sliding into a base, not while making an amazing catch, but somehow as i was batting. yes indeed, while jumping backwards from an inside pitch as i simultaneously attempted to swing at it i was able to inflict probably as serious an injury on myself as possible given the relatively sedentary nature of batting practice. i feel that words alone are not sufficient to fully express how stupid a maneuver i was attempting. my right leg planted while my hips turned. instead of bending front-back, the joint went left-right and my knee made a crunching, popping sort of noise as i crumpled over.
most importantly, i completely deserved it. this is what a lifetime of flailing, uncoordinated movement gets you. what's really amazing is that it didn't happen earlier--somehow this was the first major injury i've ever sustained. it seems that all those years of taking two stairs at a time, losing my balance as i turn corners, playing squash without goggles, and general clumsiness had been adding up to that moment yesterday, and it finally all caught up to me.