Balls and Decks

September is almost over, which makes it difficult to talk about anything other than baseball in this space, but I'm sure you'd much rather hear about the deck. I cleaned it today to prep it for staining tomorrow. For those keeping score at home, that's two trips to Home Depot in two days, a feat not accomplished since the early days of 13 Pond. My back and knees hurt constantly, I sleep against a headboard, and our first mortgage payment is due on Monday. I'm getting old.

In an attemp to curb the effects of aging, I'm trying to take up tennis again. I played a few times this summer, but just as summer came to an end, I found two guys right at my level. Before and after doubles with Matthew yesterday, I played some epic singles tiebreakers with Sean and Khoa, perhaps a sign of tennis to come. Did I mention my knees and back hurt constantly?

Look Ma, No Hands, our kickball team for the fall season, moved to 4-0 with a 3-1 win on Thursday. I pitched a complete game with impeccable defense behind me, including a highlight-reel catch by the wife at second base. Look out, WAKA, Look Ma means business.

And finally, baseball. The Red Sox clinched the division last night in improbable fashion, a Mariano Rivera meltdown letting the Orioles back in what had looked like a blowout, and losing in 10 innings, shortly after Matsuzaka and the Sox beat Minnesota. It obviously would have been a much better year in baseball if not for the Y*****s' late-season surge, but I'll take a division title for the Sox and a tough Cleveland team throwing Sabbathia and Carmona twice each in an attempt to knock the evil out of the playoffs early.

At a few points this season, I said that if the Sox blew their division lead, I'd give up on AL baseball and focus on the Mets or Padres. Glad I didn't turn my attention to the Mets. Here's hoping, as the Nationals try to close out the Phillies tonight, that the Phils lose another one tomorrow and John Maine's near-no-hitter today ends up meaning something.

That is all.


Fall in Maine

Sweet Christ, it's cold. 45 when I got in my car this morning, maybe a few degrees warmer in the bathroom when I turned the shower off. The goal is not to turn the heat on until November 15. I'll be proud to make it to October 1. I raked leaves yesterday for the first time at the new house, and my back is paying for it today. Bring on the snow shovels.

Before the cold set in, we had Kim and Matt up for a trip to LL Bean, a Sox game at Dewey's, our first dinner at J's, and drinks with Colleen at Brian Boru. We're trying to sell them on Portland, and may have made some progress.

The previous weekend was our last at Cobbosseecontee, one we spent lounging on the porch and in the water before bringing in the dock and rafts and boats on a rainy Sunday morning. Hope we can get up there three times every summer.

Before that, it was Nick and Heather's wedding in Boulder. A gorgeous venue for a classy affair, and a song list summit to boot. We went the dangerous bachelor-party-the-night-before-the-wedding route, which made the mile-high wedding day frisbee all the more exhausting, but we may have introduced "the paperwork carrot" (which perhaps I'll explain in this space one day) into the local lexicon, so the weekend will be remembered fondly.

I'm getting pretty sick of American League baseball. I'd turn my attention to the NL, but watching the Phillies sweep the Mets again wouldn't be much better. Is another Red Sox-Y*****s ALCS around the corner? I'll take the paperwork carrot.