Afterglow
As I sit here putting down these words, the Red Sox parade is taking place in Boston. The weather is perfect and I wish I was there. Instead, I went to my job. That's what you call being an old coot.
BUT I'M THERE IN SPIRIT. And here to recap some of the more unnoticed moments from the last two days. Let's not forget all the chewing and spitting done in the Series. I loathe spitting and saliva in general, as my closest dearest readers know. (THANKS FOR SHARING THAT WITH THE NEWBIES, BECK!!!) You're very welcome. Seeing someone brush their teeth makes me grimace. I had an old roommate who used to chase me around the apartment with a mouth full of toothpaste. Ick.
In terms of sports spitting, the kind I really hate is done by David Ortiz (who is otherwise without flaws). It's the one that comes out from the bottom teeth and heads in a more straight trajectory, a line drive if you will. Ick. Terry Francona lets his spits go with real contempt. Right down on the ground. GET RID OF THIS. His are easier to watch for me.
Sorry I don't have a picture of it.
Jacoby Ellsbury, or cute Jacoby Ellsbury if you prefer, gets his mouth into a perfect rectangle, for what reason we don't know. He continues to sport the Dollar Store goggles when others have concluded that they are too peculiar to wear. That's okay. After the catch he made in the ninth inning, he can wear them all night if he wants. The guys all need swimmies, those things that go on babies' arms to keep them afloat. Then they'd look perfect.
Two grown men. That's all you can say.
Oh babe, I was the one that kept calling you at 2am. Did you know?
I'm only going to say this once. Japanese men do not look good in that weird dot-beard configuration. Neither do Danish men or Greenlandian men or American men. Ick.
Coco channels Richard Simmons while cute Jacoby clings to peculiar goggles.
K E G G E R!!!!!!!!!!!
Red Sox Nation, some still hung over from 2004 (better not be any of my students in there)
I'm supposed to be with the Shriners. Shut up about Monica Lewinsky.
This says it all. Paps may not dance at the parade, dear reader, but he's dancing in our hearts.
Thanks to the Boston Globe for all the pix.
A bientot
love,
becky
posted by Becky Willis Motew @ 2:54 PM
3 Comments
3 Comments:
I didn't go either, though kind of wished I had, and am now watching recordings of it that I made this afternoon instead. I did go in 2004, though.
I love that big cutout sign of Papelbon with the swinging legs; they just found it in the crowd at the parade and the reporter called it "the Papsicle" -- heh!
If you wrote the sports news Becky, I might actually read it!
I'm with you with the dot-dash beards.
I'm an old coot too!
At work us new trained guides are called newbies. But there's a new lot arriving next week and we won't be anymore - we'll be the oldbies!
Sandman - I didn't mean anything by the NTLT - I was just so excited my fingers kept hitting the caps button! But I do like your interpretation - :)
May you bask long in the after-glory-glow. Both of you!
Thanks, CB!!!! SM and I appreciate it.
b
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