pigs in the treetops

I had the oddest dream last night - something about the Red Sox winning the World Series and seeing a sign that said "Bill Buckner: All Is Forgiven!"

This is the first time that I've really felt confident that I might be employable. Hurrah Red Sox!

It may come as a surprise to people who read this blog, but I do enjoy watching sporting events. That is to say, I enjoy them in the same way that I enjoy opera. I don't expect to fully understand all of the nuances to what's going on (even if the opera is being performed in English) but I really enjoy the spectacle and the emotion.

Any number of boyfriends, friends and the occasional student have tried to make me enjoy the numbers and strategy behind the field. I enjoy listening to people explain such things, but seem incapable of retaining most of it. It is doubtless a failing on my part ("unsocial savage" again) that I'm happy to watch a game without understanding any of this - indeed, am probably happier when I don't know that a particular player has a particular record in a particular situation. (Keeping a scorecard at a baseball game is a lot of fun, though I always have to be reminded of how it's done.) As of late last night, "1918" and "eight victories in a row" were all that I really needed, anyway.

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