Sweet Sweet Revenge
Dooce: Today I pooped
Our friend – and yours – Dooce has a few thoughts on last night’s victory over the Yankees:
Thank you, Red Sox. Today I pooped.
BELIEVE
Might I introduce you to the Boston Red Sox – the 2004 American League Champions.
World Series – OUR WORLD SERIES – begins on Saturday.
After doing the impossible in the ALCS, why not us? Why not this team? Why not this year?
CURSE THIS!
Curt Schilling
In his own words:
“I tried to be as tough as I could, and I did it my way and you saw what happened. I prayed and prayed, not to win, but for the strength to be able to compete.”
And compete, he did…
Red Sox 4, Yankees Two
I’ve never seen three baseball games so hardly fought – inch by inch – as the last three days of baseball between the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox. The Boston Globe provides a great recap of tonight’s record breaking action in New York
Gritting his teeth and grimacing throughout, Curt Schilling willed away the pain in his right ankle and the Boston Red Sox got the benefit of two reversed calls to move within one win of the most shocking comeback in baseball postseason history.
For the second straight year, the New York Yankees and the Red Sox will go to a Game 7, a winner-take-all battle for the AL pennant between baseball’s perennial pinstriped power and a Boston team desperately trying to win the World Series for the first time since 1918.
Pitching on a dislocated ankle tendon that forced him out of the opener, Schilling smothered the Yankees by allowing one run over seven innings to lead the Red Sox over New York 4-2 Tuesday night and pull Boston into a 3-3 tie in an AL championship series that was three outs from a sweep just two days earlier.
Curt Schilling has stones, my friends.
For an athlete to pitch through that sort of pain – for seven innings – and hold the opponent to just two runs (in their own ballpark) is simply outstanding. And to do it for that team – to fight from three games down to force a seventh game is unbelievable.
I BELIEVE.
CURSE THIS!
From yesterday’s Boston Herald:
They look like rebels. They act like renegades. And clearly, they have no intention of going quietly into the deep, dark night. Continuing to spit in the face of convention, the Red Sox rallied from a 4-2, eighth-inning deficit to defeat the New York Yankees, 5-4, in 14 innings.
The Red Sox, a few minutes ago, just did what no team in baseball history has ever done – come back from 3 games behind to force a seventh game.
Why not us? Why not now?
Cycling Diary: 10/17/04 at Massasoit State Park
Returned this Sunday to Massasoit State Park down the road in East Taunton with the sidekick for what we hoped would be two to three hours of solid riding around Middle Pond and perhaps on some of the calmer single track trails.
The day started off well enough – though it was around 50 degrees – as we headed down the main road – past Camper’s Beach, and onto the Middle Pond bridle trail to cruise the 2.0 mile course around the pond.
As you can see from this shot, I was cruising along pretty well.
And, as usual, the views from the Middle Pond Trail were quite impressive – particularly now that fall has struck New England with it’s usual ferocity:
But as we rounded the corner to climb up the west side of Middle Pond – while I was pushing up an incline, my chain snapped, and suddenly I wasn’t going anywhere.
I whipped out my Alien II multitool and went to town – only to lose the chain pin entirely and being completely stumped on how to proceed.
So, from 1.8 miles away, we hoofed it back to the car – as you can see below:
After that, we loaded the bikes back on the car and headed up the road to Silver City Bicycles where it took them all of five minutes to fix the chain – and give me a quick lesson in bike repair.
They’re great guys – go buy your bike there today!
Anyways, we had two hours of sunlight left, so we headed back to Massasoit again – and rode another eight miles – including that incline twice without losing a chain or any other bike parts!
During the recovery phase of our trip, we cruised around the Perry Bogs and took this photo of the holding pond for the cranberry bogs:
And, as a last thought, here’s the path we chose not to take while riding the Cranberry singletrack trail on the east side of the park:
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
— Robert Frost