Thursday, May 28, 2009
My wife is off on a business trip and so I am alone for a night for the first time in months, maybe years. My goal was to read a textbook about software requirements for work, but I watched Fever Pitch on network television and ate a dinner of leftovers (rice, beans, and two chicken fingers) and a bowl of cereal (Special K with chocolate bits in it) instead.
The movie made me feel...sad. And not just because I'm a Yankees fan. And not just because I was home alone eating a hodgepodge dinner and watching network television. The content of the movie made me feel sad, especially the parts that were attempting to make me feel uplifted. Like Johnny Damon's grand slam, for example.
Let me explain: I miss being able to root against Johnny Damon and his caveman look. Back when he was with the Sox, I rooted against him as a player while simultaneously respecting his caveman look. I miss that complicated love/hate relationship. His caveman look was, well, pretty freaking awesome.
Maybe Matt Wieters can fill the emptiness in my heart.