Three weeks ago I picked the Red Sox to beat the Cardinals in six games in this year’s World Series. Look at what teams made it to the Series! Still, I have to change my pick. The Cardinals pitching is too good. Wacha and Wainwright will stifle the Red Sox bats early in the series. Those two will pitch at least twice each should the series go seven games. The Sox have good pitching, but it’s not that good.
House policy is that our girls get to have a big party, where friends are invited, for their birthday every fifth year. Which meant this was the year L. got to do something. Following in the footsteps of both of her big sisters, she selected Monkey Joe’s for two hours of jumping around. We waited until her school was on fall break so we could do it while M. and C.
Indy is a little bleary-eyed today. And for good reason. Man, was that some game last night. From the Colts fan perspective, it had about all we could ask for. The brief, but appropriate, tribute to Peyton Manning before the game. The quick three-and-out by Denver to start the game. A vintage Manning drive after a couple punts that put an “Uh oh, here we go,” vibe in the stadium. The huge plays by the Colts defense to change the tide of the game (Four different times, no less!
For some reason it’s been very hard to write up my thoughts about Pearl Jam’s Lightning Bolt. Not because I don’t like it; I do. Not because it follows the same basic formula the band has been using for nearly a decade; that is true but that doesn’t make it indistinguishable from the last two albums. Not because there’s nothing interesting about the album to put into words; there’s plenty. Not because I find myself agreeing with the theme of every positive review of the album I’ve read; I can always find something to write about my favorite band of our generation.
Posnanski revisited his 32 Best Calls In Sports History to honor the 25th anniversary of Kirk Gibson’s home run in the 1988 World Series. Checking in at #10 is Larry Munson’s epic call of Lindsey Scott’s 92-yard catch-and-run that helped Georgia beat Florida in 1980. I remember watching the game live, and probably hearing some network announcer call it, and I’ve heard the central part of Munson’s call many times. But I had never heard the aftermath, which is absolutely incredible.
My current favorite music writer, Steven Hyden, goes beyond the simple album review for the new Pearl Jam disk. Instead, he examines the band’s entire career, assesses what’s overrated, what’s underrated, and what’s been properly rated, and then does the final math. Pearl Jam made some great records in the '90s, some not-so-great records in the early '00s, and some very solid records in the last several years. The band is always worth seeing live.
Slapping together some notes while attempting to actually stay awake past halftime of a Monday Night Football game, as the Colts are battling the Chargers. Not sure why I’m bothering. The Colts vs. San Diego has been nothing but bad news for about ten years. My assignment last Friday was to cover RHS going to play DCHS, the team that lost the 83-78 thriller earlier this year. DCHS came in averaging 56 points and 550 yards per game.
It’s been a busy and frustrating couple of weeks. And some of it is beginning to catch up with us. The last two Sundays we’ve had torrential rains, which have wiped out soccer games each week. L. had her first make-up game last night (She scored two early goals, then none after that.) and M. has one tonight. Plus regular practices on top of that has us rushing around even more than normal.
I recently came across a new classic rock station1 that has a “Twelve O’Clock Double Shot” lunch show. Which is great, because I pick up L. at 1:00 so while I’m sitting in line waiting for the kids to come out, I get to listen to the last few minutes of the program. One day last week I lucked into a Motley Crüe block. It was a gorgeous day, so the windows were down.
Man, it’s like there was some kind of conspiracy to troll the over-energetic part of my brain that is responsible for nostalgia last week. First, Alexander Zaitchik wrote for Salon about how close we may have come to nuclear war in 1983, and how that, along with The Day After, freaked out some of us Gen Xers with nightmares about the nuclear apocalypse. Then Sunday’s American Top 40 was from ’83.
Where were you five years ago? We were at the hospital, greeting daughter #3 into the world. Man, has it gone by fast. L. has always seemed older than she is, and when we’re reminded of her actual age it’s always a surprise. Recently, as I’ve been thinking about her birthday, I always have to pause for a second and think, “Wait, she’s just now turning five?” That’s what spending your life chasing after two bigger sisters will do.
Whoops. It looks like, between our early September travels and the various changes I made to the site last month, I never posted my list of August books. My bad. Here they are, to be followed shortly by my September list. 30 - VJ: The Unplugged Adventures of MTV’s First Wave - Nina Blackwood, Mark Goodman, Alan Hunter, and Martha Quinn with Gavin Edwards. I knew before reading this, from the reviews, that it wasn’t considered to be nearly as good as I Want My MTV, the oral history of the glory days of MTV I read last year.
The leaves have begun to fall in our yard. The corn fields around the corner are in the process of being harvested. Which means it’s the perfect time to recycle these two classics. I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and arrange them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so seasonal.
I sit here on a lovely autumn evening, windows open, Upland Oktoberfest in a glass, watching MLB game #163. Not a bad way to spend a night, especially with David Price doing David Price things in the early going. Since I can’t make full playoff predictions until this game is resolved, some final thoughts on the Royals’ season. As I said last week, I’ve decided to milk the good from this season.
Obligatory weekend notes. I was finally back on the road for high school football Friday night. The game itself aside, it was kind of a mess. Thanks to a big construction project on the highways here in Indy, a drive that normally takes an hour, or just over, on a Friday night took 95 minutes. I rolled into the stadium with 7:00 left before kickoff. Fortunately, this school saves a seat for us so I had a spot in the press box.
I’ll assume that people who are long time readers of the blog, and/or have known me for many years, have mental lists of my many odd traits. I’m not even going to jog your memories with a few examples. You know what you make fun of me for. Here’s one more you can add to your lists: Several times a year1, I have a dream in which it is Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, and I realize I haven’t watched any Christmas movies or listened to any Christmas music yet.
(Stealing a line from Twitter…) This is how the season ends. Late at night, in Seattle, on another evening when the offense is pathetic while losing to a bad team. Of course, I was long asleep when the game, and the Royals’ playoff hopes, ended with a 6-0 loss to the Mariners last night/this morning. But I knew that the Royals had to win to keep the most meager of playoff chances alive, and was not terribly surprised when I pulled up the scores as I was waking the girls up this morning.
Man, I remember the early days of Korleone Young well. First, there was that unforgettable name. Then, the fact an allegedly world-class high school baller was coming up in Wichita about the same time as JaRon Rush in KC. KU fans dreamed of those guys playing together, along with Quentin Richardson. Alas, while Rush and Richardson were once committed to KU, none of the three ever enrolled in Lawrence. Richardson’s had a long and solid, if unremarkable, NBA career.
Your weekly weekend wrap-up, featuring a two-hour stretch from Sunday that was as good as any sports moment this year. This was no ordinary weekend. No, we had visitors! The Nesbitts traveled from Kansas City (with the Belfords also traveling here, but staying with the Heberts) for the Missouri-Indiana football game Saturday. There were plans to attend the local high school football game Friday, but rain ruled that out. 1
I don’t obsess about music the way I once did. I blame that on the digital music revolution. As much as I love having access to a seemingly endless stream of music, it also means I don’t live with an album for weeks at a time the way I once did. But there are exceptions to that, certainly, whether it’s a Pearl Jam or Clash week or when I do fall in love with a record and listen to it beyond its first week of release.