The puck slid across the crease - an invisible hand pushing it beyond the reach of a defender, darting past the goalie, toward the stick of Boston player rushing toward the net...
I let out a noise that is a cross between a barbaric yalp and a dog having its tail stepped on. The common noise that I've let out of a thousand times at a thousand different events. The common noise that starts as a guttural cry of joy and ends up stuck in the throat when fate - it is always fate - intervenes.
My three month old daughter Sienna opened her eyes from where she was enjoying her nap - the natural birthright of any child with Bostonian blood anywhere in her veins being on her father or mother's lap* during a playoff game. Especially a game seven with a trip to the Stanley Cup finals at stake. "Really close, Sweetie," I told her in an attempt to turn disappointment into a teaching moment. Her tiny face turned beet red instantaneously as she let out a guttural cry of her own, only this one didn't stop in her throat, instead it reverberated throughout our apartment and was accompanied by tiny tiny tears.
The Bruins had made my daughter Sienna cry.
Danielle, upon coming home from work, rightfully pointed out that I had scared our child with my louder-than-I- think-it-is yelp, my protests that it was the Bruins not withstanding. She noted that I have watched approximately a handful of hockey games at best and that I was doing nothing more than jumping on the Bruins bandwagon. My wife is a smart woman. My wife just did not grow up with hockey.**
This was BEFORE the Bruins even won the game. My yearly playoff passage since moving to New York a decade ago is as follows: I quietly hope for the best of "my beloved Bruins" or "my beloved Celtics." Otherwise I keep it to myself. Hockey is way closer to my heart though - my father jokes that kids in our town learned how to walk and instead of sneakers would get skates. Actually, he isn't joking.
I can recount the utter heartbreak and disappointment that began approximately in the mid-70s when my mother introduced me to hockey and has continued onward until right about, oh now. Only it would take about 15,000 words, a box of tissues, and therapy***. Hockey has proven to be a lot more painful than Red Sox baseball. I know, 86 years of futility and the Red Sox finally win the World Series, let me sum up the counterpoint: the Red Sox had lower expectations so when they did well it was a pleasant surprise. Not with hockey.
Hockey will kill you slowly. Your team is most likely to make the playoffs and it gives you eternal hope. The Bruins gave you more than hope they would sometimes make the cup finals and then end up being surprisingly non-competitive. This leads to incredible anguish: would you rather your team fail or succeed and then fail. My friend Mark is a huge Jets fans and back in '06 he asked me whether I'd rather have my team make the Superbowl (we were talking Patriots v Jets at the time) and lose or not make it at all. From my Bruins experience I told him I'd rather not make it. I'd rather the team suck.
Each year I tuned in come playoff time. Promising that I wouldn't care. Yeah, right. Last year really took the cake though. Up 3 - 0 to the Flyers and how-did-they-lose-that-series? It was the closest I have ever come to throwing a remote at the TV.
You would think I learn. I don't. Naturally I find myself flipping to the games once the playoffs begin - if I watched the regular season I'd probably get an ulcer. I have no idea if this makes the the worst fan ever. The base word of fanatic comes from "fan" and the days where I could rattle off the B's roster - would you like it by number, line, position, year - are long past. I experienced the entire "are you really a fan" debate throughout the filming of the Jets Hope documentary where we would talk to someone who only goes to one game a year with his buddies, doesn't know the names of the players anymore, yet still waits out the day when his team would win.
It is okay to be that fan. It is okay to use terms like "my team" when you haven't bought a jersey in years, or don't buy the NESN package anymore, or limit yourself to mumbling that you won't fall for the team AGAIN. You are that fan. Embrace being that fan. Especially when you have hope.
Excuse me while I put on my driver's cap and start up the bandwagon. Sienna is riding shotgun though - she needs a good view of what her future looks like.
Wayne
*Most Bostonians I know don't understand why women watching or knowing about sports is even considered a big deal.
** Danielle has gamely tried to watch hockey with me on TV. Even on our 40 inch HD TV the puck is too small to follow and when I say things like, "He's going to pass the puck to the winger on the far right" and the winger is against the boards and you can't really see him...it is understandable that she does not enjoy it as much as a I do. Actually it bores her. It bores her less live though.
***When the Bruins had a lead in game seven I keep mumbling "count 'em first" whenever there was an on the fly line change. Yes, 1979 still lingers...
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
State of the Parent Address: The First 100 Days of Sienna
“I haven’t dropped her yet!”*
When it comes to people asking me how fatherhood is going that is my standard answer. I’m only being half a smart ass when I say it; the other half of me is completely serious. Actually I am fully serious.
Mankind has survived approximately 500,000 years of existence (depending on how you’re counting), child bearing, child rearing, crying children, hungry children, children in need of a diaper change, elements, poxes (literal and figurative), seemingly smart people saying what turns out to be wrong about family, and seemingly dumb people saying what turns out to be correct about family.
I think about Cave Man and Cave Woman hunting and gathering as little Cave Baby learned how to crawl quickly. Cave Baby DID learn to crawl quickly since a small child makes a delightful snack to some sharp tooth predator. That is when Cave Woman actually survived child birth.
It isn’t with full glibness when I sum up the early parts of fatherhood I can sum it up as, “I haven’t dropped her yet!” as Sienna can survive some temporary hunger or temporary dirty diaper. Sienna also has a squirmess factor of 2 million, especially with those early late night feedings and diaper changes. Though man, what a beginning.
The Beginning
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll text you and let you know what happens.”
With those words or some proximity of, Danielle walked out the door to our apartment. That she was wearing her bedroom slippers at the time might have been considered off. That it was about 10:30 at night and I had just shoved money into her hand for the car service that was waiting for. That I was going to have to call her mother and tell her to meet Danielle at the emergency room.
You know, typical first night at home with Sienna. All five pounds, nine ounces of Sienna, our daughter who had been home for all of seven hours. Who mostly resembled a giant diaper with a biscuit head. I have terrible news for all parents your newborn child most likely looks like a small pug crossed with Winston Churchill. No offense, this is a fact of life.
Sienna came into the world three and half weeks early via an emergency C-section. Emergency C-section where her head was a tiny bit caved in and her umbilical chord was wrapped around her neck and requiring three slaps from the doctor before Sienna decided she would stop scaring us all by not making any noises. On the level of: this-is-annoying to holy-goodness-terrible the birth the entire previous four days had been: part-of-life-I-love-modern-medicine-it-could-have-been-much-worse. Danielle spent the post-birth days in a hospital room, I stayed on the extra couch next to her bed, and Sienna spent time in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU).
After four days of this particular living arrangement we were THRILLED to finally take Sienna home. That Danielle’s fever started rising immediately upon coming home and spiked to such an extent that she had to go back to the hospital’s ER and leave me alone. Not so much fun.
Which is why I was staring at Sienna and told her, “I guess it’s just me and you. I can get through any of this - I just can’t drop you.” I had spent four days of her life learning how to change and feed her from the Nurses in the NICU. I have full faith in my ability to change and feed her taking however long it needed to take. I then called my mother-in-law and told her to meet her daughter at the ER.
So there you have it. Day 1 of 100 days of Sienna. I decided to count from the time she came home.
Yes, Danielle (and my mother-in-law Trudy) came home at 3 AM that night. Danielle pumped up with some uber-powerful antibiotics that could probably double as paint thinner in a pinch. Heck, Danielle had so many drugs from the time she arrived at the hospital to our first night home I am pretty sure she’ll fail a drug test someday.
Anyone really wondering WHY I’ve enjoyed the other 99 days of parenthood so much?
Before Sienna was born we prepared as much as new parents could prepare. Set up her room, packed a hospital bag, and asked parents what to expect. This led to a confusing factoid that my friend Rob and his wife Jessica experienced recently. Parents don’t remember newborn.
Why don’t parents remember?
Another friend Steve put it to me a different way, “I have a five year old son. If we have a second kid I have to relearn everything. I just don’t remember.” It appears that living entirely in the moment is a benefit/hazard of being a new parent. I could not believe that my father could not remember me from this age. Or that some of the smartest people I know can’t remember what they did five days after the child is born.
99 days later Danielle and I are able to piece together most everything. Not of just the first few days. Just of EVERYTHING about being a parent. Or to paraphrase my father, “If you want to remember something you better write it down. Otherwise you’re going to forget. Trust me.”
In the first 99 days we’ve already had quite a few adventures. Some intentional, some not. Sienna has been up to Massachusetts, out to Long Island, has met both sets of grand units, gone to an Easter dinner, had Passover, been to a bunch of bars and places for brunch, attended a Mets game, watched hockey (I feel guilty about letting out a yelp in excitement and Sienna started crying) and basketball, had diaper changes in a parking lot, rolled over during tummy time, performed dance moves, been strolled around upstate New York, started daycare, and punched the cat in the face. It was a good punch too.
There have moments of course. Being so still you have to look three times to see that she is breathing. The eight diaper changes a day. Sienna needing an hour to feed when she was just learning. Her acid reflux. Danielle being so tired that I took a day off from work so she could just rest. Sterilizing for the millionth time. Arguing with the insurance company. Rolling Danielle to the NICU and her look of horror when seeing her daughter and counting how many tubes were attached. Those are the memories that will fade quickly. Those are the ones that when a parent asks, “Do you remember when they were this small…” I probably am NOT going to remember. Still, it is part of the first 99 days and that is what happened. Heck, Cave Man or Cave Woman would love if those were the biggest problems they faced.**
Sienna loves strange character voices. Much to Danielle’s horror the same “cutesy voices” that Danielle hated that her mother would use with other babies…Sienna LOVES. Sienna and Grandma may understand each other the most (Grandma also comes over to make sure Mommy and Daddy can go out on dates). If you sing to Sienna she does a full limb dance. Babies also have excellent comedic timing and Sienna is no exception. Any statement of “she is so quiet right now” will immediately receive some sort of noise from her direction. I am also employing Sienna as the cutest baby comedy prop EVER. When she meets new people the statement of, “she is so cute” is said (required by law) at which point Sienna stares at the person blankly. I then say, “Sienna, melt her (or his) heart with a smile” and she lets out a huge open mouth smile. Because right now when she hears my voice – and isn’t tired, hungry, or needs to be changed – Sienna smiles.
Sienna now weighs in at a robust 10 pounds or as I like to say, The size of some of my friends newborns.
People wonder why we haven’t done the birth announcement. Read all of that again. We’re busy people. Sorry. We’ll get to it.
Sienna has been great as far as taking it easy on her parents though. I think she is trying to trick us into having a sibling – though we aren’t falling for that. The first hundred days with Sienna has been about slowly figuring out everything. That and filling out her baby book so we remember some of the funny, strange stories or the great visits or words of wisdom our friends have given us.
Most importantly though, I haven’t dropped her yet.
Wayne
*I also do not SHAKE my daughter. That is just dangerous and is far more controllable.
** I am also thankful this is the worst we’ve had to face. I’ve spoken with friends and some had stories 100x worse. I am not kidding when I say all of this could have been much worse. It was not a game of one upsmanship, only what friends experienced.
When it comes to people asking me how fatherhood is going that is my standard answer. I’m only being half a smart ass when I say it; the other half of me is completely serious. Actually I am fully serious.
Mankind has survived approximately 500,000 years of existence (depending on how you’re counting), child bearing, child rearing, crying children, hungry children, children in need of a diaper change, elements, poxes (literal and figurative), seemingly smart people saying what turns out to be wrong about family, and seemingly dumb people saying what turns out to be correct about family.
I think about Cave Man and Cave Woman hunting and gathering as little Cave Baby learned how to crawl quickly. Cave Baby DID learn to crawl quickly since a small child makes a delightful snack to some sharp tooth predator. That is when Cave Woman actually survived child birth.
It isn’t with full glibness when I sum up the early parts of fatherhood I can sum it up as, “I haven’t dropped her yet!” as Sienna can survive some temporary hunger or temporary dirty diaper. Sienna also has a squirmess factor of 2 million, especially with those early late night feedings and diaper changes. Though man, what a beginning.
The Beginning
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll text you and let you know what happens.”
With those words or some proximity of, Danielle walked out the door to our apartment. That she was wearing her bedroom slippers at the time might have been considered off. That it was about 10:30 at night and I had just shoved money into her hand for the car service that was waiting for. That I was going to have to call her mother and tell her to meet Danielle at the emergency room.
You know, typical first night at home with Sienna. All five pounds, nine ounces of Sienna, our daughter who had been home for all of seven hours. Who mostly resembled a giant diaper with a biscuit head. I have terrible news for all parents your newborn child most likely looks like a small pug crossed with Winston Churchill. No offense, this is a fact of life.
Sienna came into the world three and half weeks early via an emergency C-section. Emergency C-section where her head was a tiny bit caved in and her umbilical chord was wrapped around her neck and requiring three slaps from the doctor before Sienna decided she would stop scaring us all by not making any noises. On the level of: this-is-annoying to holy-goodness-terrible the birth the entire previous four days had been: part-of-life-I-love-modern-medicine-it-could-have-been-much-worse. Danielle spent the post-birth days in a hospital room, I stayed on the extra couch next to her bed, and Sienna spent time in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU).
After four days of this particular living arrangement we were THRILLED to finally take Sienna home. That Danielle’s fever started rising immediately upon coming home and spiked to such an extent that she had to go back to the hospital’s ER and leave me alone. Not so much fun.
Which is why I was staring at Sienna and told her, “I guess it’s just me and you. I can get through any of this - I just can’t drop you.” I had spent four days of her life learning how to change and feed her from the Nurses in the NICU. I have full faith in my ability to change and feed her taking however long it needed to take. I then called my mother-in-law and told her to meet her daughter at the ER.
So there you have it. Day 1 of 100 days of Sienna. I decided to count from the time she came home.
Yes, Danielle (and my mother-in-law Trudy) came home at 3 AM that night. Danielle pumped up with some uber-powerful antibiotics that could probably double as paint thinner in a pinch. Heck, Danielle had so many drugs from the time she arrived at the hospital to our first night home I am pretty sure she’ll fail a drug test someday.
Anyone really wondering WHY I’ve enjoyed the other 99 days of parenthood so much?
Before Sienna was born we prepared as much as new parents could prepare. Set up her room, packed a hospital bag, and asked parents what to expect. This led to a confusing factoid that my friend Rob and his wife Jessica experienced recently. Parents don’t remember newborn.
Why don’t parents remember?
Another friend Steve put it to me a different way, “I have a five year old son. If we have a second kid I have to relearn everything. I just don’t remember.” It appears that living entirely in the moment is a benefit/hazard of being a new parent. I could not believe that my father could not remember me from this age. Or that some of the smartest people I know can’t remember what they did five days after the child is born.
99 days later Danielle and I are able to piece together most everything. Not of just the first few days. Just of EVERYTHING about being a parent. Or to paraphrase my father, “If you want to remember something you better write it down. Otherwise you’re going to forget. Trust me.”
Here are ten things I’ve learned, so far, that other parents might want to know. Or they might not.
- Take a picture. Your child will mess with you being doing a cute action for about a week and then never EVER do it again. You want that cute memory? Take a picture.
Advice will come from weird places. Sienna never slept in a bassinet. Why? At a New Year’s party a parent with twins told us she just put the kids directly into the crib from day one. It never occurred to us that you could do that. We did it. Sure Sienna looked like a burrito in a desert – still it worked. - Diapers start with “N” not “1”. The reason Sienna looks so tiny was because it was the wrong size diaper. These diapers looked so large I thought she was going to be smothered.
- You will want to break at some point. It is a biological result of not enough sleep, and mostly, not enough sleep. That is the EXACT moment your child will smile reflexively at you and you will melt. Then all will be well.
- If you have a daughter and someone calls her a him it will bother you. I thought it wouldn’t. It does. I also don’t care that we have a blue baseball hanging from her stroller. You can ask people! You-can-ask.
- You will think you are ready for work. I did a podcast a week after I returned from Sienna being born. I still don’t know why I did it.
- Take the child out right away. I was on leave for three weeks since I was taking care of both Sienna and Danielle. We made sure to have Sienna out to one of our favorite food places within a week of being home. Find a place you trust and take the child there during off hours. The break is pleasant.
- It is fun to show off your child. It is. Can’t be helped. It just is.
- Watch other parents operate. We’ve learned a lot from watching our parents who have kids interact with Sienna. Mostly because the muscle memory of a parent when it comes to a newborn is amazing. I had no idea Sienna could do pull-ups until a friend showed us. Kind of awesome.
- It comes down to three things: hunger, fatigue, or a dirty diaper. Take care of those three and you can make it through most anything.
- (Freebie) Take to heart that your child will eventually crawl and talk back to you. The times of a peaceful visit to a restaurant will go away. I believe people when they tell us this. Especially when we have a sleeping Sienna and the parent telling us this information looks at his or her own child with murder in the eye and mumble, “Enjoy the time…enjoy the time.”
In the first 99 days we’ve already had quite a few adventures. Some intentional, some not. Sienna has been up to Massachusetts, out to Long Island, has met both sets of grand units, gone to an Easter dinner, had Passover, been to a bunch of bars and places for brunch, attended a Mets game, watched hockey (I feel guilty about letting out a yelp in excitement and Sienna started crying) and basketball, had diaper changes in a parking lot, rolled over during tummy time, performed dance moves, been strolled around upstate New York, started daycare, and punched the cat in the face. It was a good punch too.
There have moments of course. Being so still you have to look three times to see that she is breathing. The eight diaper changes a day. Sienna needing an hour to feed when she was just learning. Her acid reflux. Danielle being so tired that I took a day off from work so she could just rest. Sterilizing for the millionth time. Arguing with the insurance company. Rolling Danielle to the NICU and her look of horror when seeing her daughter and counting how many tubes were attached. Those are the memories that will fade quickly. Those are the ones that when a parent asks, “Do you remember when they were this small…” I probably am NOT going to remember. Still, it is part of the first 99 days and that is what happened. Heck, Cave Man or Cave Woman would love if those were the biggest problems they faced.**
Sienna loves strange character voices. Much to Danielle’s horror the same “cutesy voices” that Danielle hated that her mother would use with other babies…Sienna LOVES. Sienna and Grandma may understand each other the most (Grandma also comes over to make sure Mommy and Daddy can go out on dates). If you sing to Sienna she does a full limb dance. Babies also have excellent comedic timing and Sienna is no exception. Any statement of “she is so quiet right now” will immediately receive some sort of noise from her direction. I am also employing Sienna as the cutest baby comedy prop EVER. When she meets new people the statement of, “she is so cute” is said (required by law) at which point Sienna stares at the person blankly. I then say, “Sienna, melt her (or his) heart with a smile” and she lets out a huge open mouth smile. Because right now when she hears my voice – and isn’t tired, hungry, or needs to be changed – Sienna smiles.
Sienna now weighs in at a robust 10 pounds or as I like to say, The size of some of my friends newborns.
People wonder why we haven’t done the birth announcement. Read all of that again. We’re busy people. Sorry. We’ll get to it.
Sienna has been great as far as taking it easy on her parents though. I think she is trying to trick us into having a sibling – though we aren’t falling for that. The first hundred days with Sienna has been about slowly figuring out everything. That and filling out her baby book so we remember some of the funny, strange stories or the great visits or words of wisdom our friends have given us.
Most importantly though, I haven’t dropped her yet.
Wayne
*I also do not SHAKE my daughter. That is just dangerous and is far more controllable.
** I am also thankful this is the worst we’ve had to face. I’ve spoken with friends and some had stories 100x worse. I am not kidding when I say all of this could have been much worse. It was not a game of one upsmanship, only what friends experienced.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Why I Won't Be Behind Home Plate Tonight
I am the King-of-Figure-It-Out. A friend once said it to me and I took it as a compliment with a certain amount of pride. Heck, I would love to put it on my resume as SKILL: King-of-Figure-It-Out.
Remember in previous postings how I said that free tickets pop up at unexpected times? Yeah, this was one of them. My boss at work Lahmani had received Mets tickets for our group doing some fantastic job on some project or another. Tickets directly behind home plate. So close that the umpire can hear you talk some trash. So close that...you get the point.
She offered them out to the group and despite the delay in time of receiving the message and replying... I said yes. You automatically say yes. I always say yes in these situations. I am the King-of-Figure-It-Out.
That is if I think the tickets are still available. Luckily I am in a group with Yankee fans, Long Islandites, and people with children. Oh. People with children.
People like me. How life can change quickly. (By the way if this is a sitcom hijinks would have ensued).
I retract my message to Lahmani. The King-of-Figure-It-Out isn't the King-of-Tell-The-Boss-One-Thing-And-Then-Cancel. That is just a bad move. Still, there was time. I am required to pick Sienna up from daycare at approximately 5:45.
Calling babysitter Grandma was out of the question since she had already picked up Sienna yesterday* when Danielle was working the game and I was scheduled to go. I wondered what cave man would do in the situation - he had much larger problems involving children than I did - and seriously, whenever something vexs me at all I wonder what a caveman would do. It is surprisingly effective in cutting through the bs.
Caveman would take his child with him. Well, there you go then. Thanks mighty ancestor of mine! Though I am not sure that caveman would have known that a child under 26 inches does not require a ticket.
I called Danielle at her office. I believe it is what caveman would have done - if he had telephones instead of two rocks to smack together.
ME: Hi, sweetie.
DANIELLE: Hey.
ME: If I go to a Mets game with co-workers and sit behind home plate - any chance you can pick up Sienna?
Aside 1: To understand the awesomeness of this question, understand Danielle has to work every home Mets game. Also understand that sometimes the most obvious query means I do not have to figure anything out.
DANIELLE (Pause)
Aside 2: Have I mentioned my wife gives the best pauses ever? It is an artform. Like any artform she never knows she is doing it - only that it is magical.
DANIELLE (Pause)
Aside 3: It takes a while since she is running through options
DANIELLE: I don't see how it will work since I need to be here.
ME: How about this? I go home and pick up, Sienna. I bring her out to the ballpark and then we'll ride home later together?
DANIELLE (Pause)
ME: It *could* work.
DANIELLE: How would you plan on getting here? I have the car.
ME: Subway?
Aside 4: Okay, am I so into Mets baseball and free ticket on a rainy day that would require me carting a child through rush hour train traffic to a game that is potentially going to be rained out? Um yes. Have you ever sat in a seat behind home plate? Would I not have DVRd the entire even so I could show Sienna footage of her smiling at the camera and my co-workers looking furious as she shoved a hand in their beer?
DANIELLE: It is supposed to rain. I don't think it is the best idea. You'll end up cold, wet, and with a crying child.
And with that King-of-Figure-It-Out met Mother-of-all-Logic. Actually I am pretty sure Sienna would have been fine. However I hate getting soaked. Danielle is also completely reasonable and that she entertains these questions at all is why I love her.
Instead I will enjoy it from another pretty good seat in a house and Sienna will indeed be on my lap. Though any choice words for the umpire will be for our ears only.
Well, until her 7:30 bedtime. Then I turn off the game while I read her a bedtime story - priorities and all.
See. I figured out something that works.
Wayne
--
Go to Bloombergsports.mlblogs.com to hear Wayne on "Behind the Numbers" or follow him on @wparillo - third person statements in a personal blog. Weird.
*Grandma would have done it. She loves her grand daughter. Actually Grandma might have brought her to the game herself.
Remember in previous postings how I said that free tickets pop up at unexpected times? Yeah, this was one of them. My boss at work Lahmani had received Mets tickets for our group doing some fantastic job on some project or another. Tickets directly behind home plate. So close that the umpire can hear you talk some trash. So close that...you get the point.
She offered them out to the group and despite the delay in time of receiving the message and replying... I said yes. You automatically say yes. I always say yes in these situations. I am the King-of-Figure-It-Out.
That is if I think the tickets are still available. Luckily I am in a group with Yankee fans, Long Islandites, and people with children. Oh. People with children.
People like me. How life can change quickly. (By the way if this is a sitcom hijinks would have ensued).
I retract my message to Lahmani. The King-of-Figure-It-Out isn't the King-of-Tell-The-Boss-One-Thing-And-Then-Cancel. That is just a bad move. Still, there was time. I am required to pick Sienna up from daycare at approximately 5:45.
Calling babysitter Grandma was out of the question since she had already picked up Sienna yesterday* when Danielle was working the game and I was scheduled to go. I wondered what cave man would do in the situation - he had much larger problems involving children than I did - and seriously, whenever something vexs me at all I wonder what a caveman would do. It is surprisingly effective in cutting through the bs.
Caveman would take his child with him. Well, there you go then. Thanks mighty ancestor of mine! Though I am not sure that caveman would have known that a child under 26 inches does not require a ticket.
I called Danielle at her office. I believe it is what caveman would have done - if he had telephones instead of two rocks to smack together.
ME: Hi, sweetie.
DANIELLE: Hey.
ME: If I go to a Mets game with co-workers and sit behind home plate - any chance you can pick up Sienna?
Aside 1: To understand the awesomeness of this question, understand Danielle has to work every home Mets game. Also understand that sometimes the most obvious query means I do not have to figure anything out.
DANIELLE (Pause)
Aside 2: Have I mentioned my wife gives the best pauses ever? It is an artform. Like any artform she never knows she is doing it - only that it is magical.
DANIELLE (Pause)
Aside 3: It takes a while since she is running through options
DANIELLE: I don't see how it will work since I need to be here.
ME: How about this? I go home and pick up, Sienna. I bring her out to the ballpark and then we'll ride home later together?
DANIELLE (Pause)
ME: It *could* work.
DANIELLE: How would you plan on getting here? I have the car.
ME: Subway?
Aside 4: Okay, am I so into Mets baseball and free ticket on a rainy day that would require me carting a child through rush hour train traffic to a game that is potentially going to be rained out? Um yes. Have you ever sat in a seat behind home plate? Would I not have DVRd the entire even so I could show Sienna footage of her smiling at the camera and my co-workers looking furious as she shoved a hand in their beer?
DANIELLE: It is supposed to rain. I don't think it is the best idea. You'll end up cold, wet, and with a crying child.
And with that King-of-Figure-It-Out met Mother-of-all-Logic. Actually I am pretty sure Sienna would have been fine. However I hate getting soaked. Danielle is also completely reasonable and that she entertains these questions at all is why I love her.
Instead I will enjoy it from another pretty good seat in a house and Sienna will indeed be on my lap. Though any choice words for the umpire will be for our ears only.
Well, until her 7:30 bedtime. Then I turn off the game while I read her a bedtime story - priorities and all.
See. I figured out something that works.
Wayne
--
Go to Bloombergsports.mlblogs.com to hear Wayne on "Behind the Numbers" or follow him on @wparillo - third person statements in a personal blog. Weird.
*Grandma would have done it. She loves her grand daughter. Actually Grandma might have brought her to the game herself.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Why I Didn't Venture to the Bronx
I've never watched the Yankees/Red Sox game in person. I've managed to see a World Series game, play off games, Josh Hamilton's home run derby, a Triple Play, Jeff Reardon set a saves record (I was young, it was a big deal at the time!) and about a million arbitrary baseball events including a drunken Bachelor party apologizing to my mother for their misbehaviors by buying my brother and I hot dogs for three innings.
Yankee v Red Sox in person though? Nope, never have seen it in person. Part of it being that the thought of buying tickets to Yankee Stadium and somehow contributing to the Hatfields against my McCoy's would be a universal insult. Or at least bad kharma. When I lived in Massachusetts there was no such thing as StubHub to buy the so-called golden ticket.
Though I have always prepared for the possibility of the all mighty free ticket. Free tickets are a strange, powerful, mysterious creatures. You never know where one will appear or under what circumstances - though you must always be prepared to act quickly. The most powerful free ticket I ever received was 2007 ALCS Boston v Cleveland - right field porch Red Sox owner Tom Werner's seats*
I am so prepared on the possibility that I went with Yankee fans to CitiField last year to see the proper way to behave without being killed in "enemy" territory. Quiet and with respect. Which really does make life a lot better.
Which brings me to this past Sunday.
Being married to me at this point Danielle certainly knows what I am most likely to do in a given situation. She spent Sunday helping her friend Kim register for baby stuff. Her friend Kim who offered Danielle two free tickets to the Red Sox v Yankees game!
So why is this blog entitled "Why I Didn't Venture to the Bronx" instead of "My First Yankees v Red Sox game in person!"
Danielle told me this information just after we finished putting Sienna to bed. When we were figuring out how late we were planning to stay up to watch the Red Sox/Yankees game (new parents exhibit this sort of behavior). Which is really the point, I suppose.
My wife, smartly, knew that I'd wanted to go to the game yet I would NOT have liked getting home at 2 AM on a Sunday night. Or possibly later based on twitter. Most likely complaining about the price of food. Definitely having a couple of over priced beers in my belly and most definitely with my acid reflux acting up. I would not have been able to spend so much of my Sunday afternoon with her (approximate travel time from Brooklyn to Bronx on a Sunday is 8 million hours) and really, she knew I would have thought about the glories of the game v the glories of time with Sienna and Sienna ultimately winning**
Which is what happened. I watched the game with Danielle, and I suppose Sienna. Well I'm not sure if her baby monitor turned toward the TV counts as watching it. She is young and it was past her bed time.
At some point I will take Sienna to see the game - that is if Sienna even likes baseball. Though it'll probably be more meaningful for her if she is a Mets fan.
Which I hope she likes baseball, otherwise I would have risked the night out. I mean really, what a great game.
Wayne
* This is also my ONLY baseball regret. Tom Werner let me try on his world series ring & I DID NOT take a picture. I am the dumbest motherf*cker ever. The other part of the regret is I did not immediately start pitching him TV series.
** Ask me to make this same decision when Sienna is a teenager and talking back and you are probably getting a different answer
Yankee v Red Sox in person though? Nope, never have seen it in person. Part of it being that the thought of buying tickets to Yankee Stadium and somehow contributing to the Hatfields against my McCoy's would be a universal insult. Or at least bad kharma. When I lived in Massachusetts there was no such thing as StubHub to buy the so-called golden ticket.
Though I have always prepared for the possibility of the all mighty free ticket. Free tickets are a strange, powerful, mysterious creatures. You never know where one will appear or under what circumstances - though you must always be prepared to act quickly. The most powerful free ticket I ever received was 2007 ALCS Boston v Cleveland - right field porch Red Sox owner Tom Werner's seats*
I am so prepared on the possibility that I went with Yankee fans to CitiField last year to see the proper way to behave without being killed in "enemy" territory. Quiet and with respect. Which really does make life a lot better.
Which brings me to this past Sunday.
Being married to me at this point Danielle certainly knows what I am most likely to do in a given situation. She spent Sunday helping her friend Kim register for baby stuff. Her friend Kim who offered Danielle two free tickets to the Red Sox v Yankees game!
So why is this blog entitled "Why I Didn't Venture to the Bronx" instead of "My First Yankees v Red Sox game in person!"
Danielle told me this information just after we finished putting Sienna to bed. When we were figuring out how late we were planning to stay up to watch the Red Sox/Yankees game (new parents exhibit this sort of behavior). Which is really the point, I suppose.
My wife, smartly, knew that I'd wanted to go to the game yet I would NOT have liked getting home at 2 AM on a Sunday night. Or possibly later based on twitter. Most likely complaining about the price of food. Definitely having a couple of over priced beers in my belly and most definitely with my acid reflux acting up. I would not have been able to spend so much of my Sunday afternoon with her (approximate travel time from Brooklyn to Bronx on a Sunday is 8 million hours) and really, she knew I would have thought about the glories of the game v the glories of time with Sienna and Sienna ultimately winning**
Which is what happened. I watched the game with Danielle, and I suppose Sienna. Well I'm not sure if her baby monitor turned toward the TV counts as watching it. She is young and it was past her bed time.
At some point I will take Sienna to see the game - that is if Sienna even likes baseball. Though it'll probably be more meaningful for her if she is a Mets fan.
Which I hope she likes baseball, otherwise I would have risked the night out. I mean really, what a great game.
Wayne
* This is also my ONLY baseball regret. Tom Werner let me try on his world series ring & I DID NOT take a picture. I am the dumbest motherf*cker ever. The other part of the regret is I did not immediately start pitching him TV series.
** Ask me to make this same decision when Sienna is a teenager and talking back and you are probably getting a different answer
Friday, March 25, 2011
Will a Fan Be Killed at a Baseball Game?
Baby daughter Sienna followed her first object the other day - Danielle's Blackberry. No, Danielle wasn't showing Sienna something on the Blackberry - she was merely holding it in her hand, moved it, and Sienna's eyes followed.
A monumental first step for our newborn.
Then Danielle posted the information on Facebook. She then texted me, which I received on my iPhone. Which had ESPN's ScoreCenter app on it, where I could be updated to all sports scores. That is, if my twitter feed wasn't going crazy with sporting event information. Sport information like Luis Salazar being hit in the face with a line drive.
Salazar is a Braves minor league manager who, while standing in the dugout during a spring training game, was hit in the face by a foul ball line drive. After all was said and done Salazar lost an eye.
I've been at baseball games and seen people hit with line drives while paying attention - which Salazar certainly was. I grew up in Boston where Jim Rice was lauded throughout his career for jumping into the stands to help a bleeding child who had been hit with a line drive. Which taught us Boston fans to pay attention (or maybe get hit and meet your hero).
I have also been at baseball games where people walking up the steps with a back turned get hit with a line drive. Or a deflection off the hands of one fans catches another fan in face and causes injury. Or thousands of other ways a tiny object flying destined to become a souvenier wreaks havoc. Anyone who has ever gone to a game has winced on a particularly violent foul.
There is a reason why there are warnings throughout ballparks about objects leaving the field.
In the last few years, with more-and-more people getting on mobile devices DURING the game the danger seems like it increased exponentially. Especially given, well let me just say that sometimes baseball isn't exactly the most excited game. We distract ourselves with texts, email, facebook, twitter - and I readily admit I have done all of those during a baseball game.
It really makes me wonder if it is only a matter of time before someone gets killed by a foul ball. I know I'm not the first to wonder, nor the last. Merely that a foul ball line drive has become a heck of a lot more personal since Salazar was paying attention and I have been guilty of not paying attention - and there isn't a lot of difference in the 250 feet between a dugout and most rows in a stadium.
So as Sienna follows her eyes with the Blackberry, we're going to try to teach her to still pay attention to the world around here. Well, at least when we take her to a baseball game. Or at least while I'm watching a game this year.
And when I do bring her to her first baseball game we're sitting in the bleachers. Where it's safe.
Wayne
A monumental first step for our newborn.
Then Danielle posted the information on Facebook. She then texted me, which I received on my iPhone. Which had ESPN's ScoreCenter app on it, where I could be updated to all sports scores. That is, if my twitter feed wasn't going crazy with sporting event information. Sport information like Luis Salazar being hit in the face with a line drive.
Salazar is a Braves minor league manager who, while standing in the dugout during a spring training game, was hit in the face by a foul ball line drive. After all was said and done Salazar lost an eye.
I've been at baseball games and seen people hit with line drives while paying attention - which Salazar certainly was. I grew up in Boston where Jim Rice was lauded throughout his career for jumping into the stands to help a bleeding child who had been hit with a line drive. Which taught us Boston fans to pay attention (or maybe get hit and meet your hero).
I have also been at baseball games where people walking up the steps with a back turned get hit with a line drive. Or a deflection off the hands of one fans catches another fan in face and causes injury. Or thousands of other ways a tiny object flying destined to become a souvenier wreaks havoc. Anyone who has ever gone to a game has winced on a particularly violent foul.
There is a reason why there are warnings throughout ballparks about objects leaving the field.
In the last few years, with more-and-more people getting on mobile devices DURING the game the danger seems like it increased exponentially. Especially given, well let me just say that sometimes baseball isn't exactly the most excited game. We distract ourselves with texts, email, facebook, twitter - and I readily admit I have done all of those during a baseball game.
It really makes me wonder if it is only a matter of time before someone gets killed by a foul ball. I know I'm not the first to wonder, nor the last. Merely that a foul ball line drive has become a heck of a lot more personal since Salazar was paying attention and I have been guilty of not paying attention - and there isn't a lot of difference in the 250 feet between a dugout and most rows in a stadium.
So as Sienna follows her eyes with the Blackberry, we're going to try to teach her to still pay attention to the world around here. Well, at least when we take her to a baseball game. Or at least while I'm watching a game this year.
And when I do bring her to her first baseball game we're sitting in the bleachers. Where it's safe.
Wayne
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Does Jets/Patriots 2011 Equal Game 4 of Red Sox/Yankees 2004?
"This is the biggest game in Jets history. Bigger than the championship game last year because it's against the Patriots." - My buddy Craig yesterday.
"If we win it's expected, if we lose it's the biggest disappointment ever." - My buddy Rob before the Red Sox/Yankees Game 7 in 2004.
What do those two quotes have to do with each other? It helps me explain how we get from a Game 4 baseball game to a round 2 football game. Let us start with...
"If we win it's expected, if we lose it's the biggest disappointment ever." - My buddy Rob before the Red Sox/Yankees Game 7 in 2004.
What do those two quotes have to do with each other? It helps me explain how we get from a Game 4 baseball game to a round 2 football game. Let us start with...
The Review
2004. Yankees had a foot on the throat moment where the Red Sox were the unwilling victim. Then Mariano Rivera started trying to pick off Dave Roberts and the Red Sox went from being the biggest chokers ever to the biggest comeback ever. Oh and they won the World Series. As a Red Sox fan I can tell you that beating the Yankees sweetened that World Series victory. I'm not talking a subtle smile sweetening, I'm talking tears streaming down the face while running around Brooklyn screaming "how do you like me now?!" victory.
2010 (into 2011). Patriots & Jets are both 9 - 2. Supposed game of the century. Patriots crush Jets and deliver condescending "nice try kids." Sort of like Yankees fans reaction in 2003 when Aaron Boone took Wakefield over the wall. Only football moves much faster than baseball and instead of waiting for next year they meet this year.
Background done. How the heck is this game equal to the seminal moment in Red Sox history? It always begins with...
Intense Rivalry That is Over-the-Top & One-Sided
After recording, oh about 30 interviews with Jets fans during the 2009 season for Same Old Jets: A story of Hope (aka The Jets Curse) I can tell you there are two teams they hate more than others: Dolphins and Patriots. With the Patriots being the most hated. The Yankees and Red Sox rivalry has probably had 10 million or so words dedicated to it.
Sometimes the rivalry is in the eye of the beholder, or the media in many cases. The rivalries actually have consisted of one team constantly bloodying the other. The Yankee fans wouldn't acknowledge the BoSox and the Patriots fans believe that the Jets are the punchline to the joke, "What's green and red and has mud all over it?" The Jets after they Patriots finish stomping them.
That was BEFORE the Jets made the AFC Championship last year and got some Swagger. Before Hardknocks. Before Tom Brady left pieces of the Jets all over the field in New England this year. Oops. Well you need to fail before you succeed. Like the Red Sox not quitting the Jets aren't quitting. Rex Ryan continues to talking trash about Brady. You need...
Overbearing Arrogance
If you're outside of New York (or a Giants in New York) you want Rex Ryan to quit. Originally I was going to say "be quiet" except you really want him to be quiet and quit. Revis Island. Antonio Cromartie calling out Tom Brady. And cheeseburgers on the field. Let me take you back to Red Sox 2004 which had "The Idiots" signifying a who gives a damn attitude, Pedro's little person in the clubhouse, Manny-Being-Manny, Johny Damon auditioning to be Jesus, and Kevin Millar's "Born in the U.S.A." video. If you were NOT a Red Sox fan you wondered a) how can people who won nothing talk so much, and b) can I hit them? Can I hit them repeatedly? With a large object until they go away. You also need...
The Villain (or Hero depending on where you live)
For a rivalry to get vicious you need someone to be the focus of your fan anger. You need: Rex Ryan & Pedro Martinez. Rex Ryan needs his own paragraph in this madness. If you are a Jets fan you NEED Rex Ryan.
You need him to lead bunch of malcontents like Santonio Holmes who gives a huge first down gesture after catching a ball *when his team is getting killed*. You need Perdo Martinez coming out to pitch when the Red Sox have a huge lead and nearly causing a riot. This was AFTER Pedro threw Don Zimmer to the ground (that is the New York point of view; to the Red Sox fan Pedro merely moved out of the way and Zimmer fell). Overall, you really need the players to believe in themselves (or if you’re the opposition you think is part of the Overbearing Arrogance). You don't have this and you don't win. Specifically you need a player who will...
Take a Swing
Taking a swing is where you have had enough and manage to change the expectations of the franchise. In 2004 it was Jason Varitek taking a swing at A-Rod. This year it is Nick Folk actually taking a swing. Nick Folk! By all rights a terrible kicker. Right leg like in motion, hitting the game winning field goal instead of Doug O'Briening it off the upright. Along with the swing you need to understand...
The Road Goes Through Your Enemies Lands
Boston and New York hold an intense love/hate relationship that is mostly hate. New York's mayor was born in Boston. A New York team ruined a perfect season. Or as one of my childhood friends said, "Why would you want to live in New York? It's filled with New Yorkers." You need to beat your enemy to have yourself a true victory. Plus your enemy tends to have a great finisher. In this case...
Mariano equals Brady
Mariano is the greatest closer of all time. Brady is arguably the greatest championship quarterback of all time (Joe Montana's ears just perked up somewhere). You have to go through them to get to the championship. That simple. Though when everything is said and ton and the intangibles are made tangible, you and need to win the game. Or in this case...
A Reason the Underdog Prevails
I WILL give you an actual football reason the Jets may win.
The Patriots defense cannot stop the run. Yeah, sometimes it actually comes down to the game itself.
As a Boston fan I now know how my buddy Rob felt before that game. It is about a lifetime of getting used to success. I also under why Craig feels that way about THIS game. I felt it as a Red Sox fan when Roberts scored. It was a lifetime of failure being lifted.
Look at that Boston and New York fans - understanding each other a bit more every day.
Wayne
Friday, January 7, 2011
Your fantasy team isn't playing...it's time to eat
If you've been playing fantasy football all season chances are you may actually be drawn to the games even though you have no stake whatsoever. I know, weird, right? Most leagues are done by now so let us give these games so meaning.
Let us eat.
Do yourself (and your friends) a favor by throwing a long party of gluttony and greatness. Your friends who actually like football will appreciate it - if there is anything I've learned from documenting tailgaters is that groups of people + football = good times. Also some of these games are going to be nearly intolerable to watch and you'll need SOMETHING to do beside tweet and post status update about how boring everything is.
PS If you're a vegetarian you really can substitute dishes throughout.
There are three rules:
Saints v Seahawks
This is a DANGER game, or for gamblers out there "the trap" game. There is a high chance this will be a blowout (at least until the Saints put Ivory and Thomas on the IR as I wrote this post) and a blowout is like a bad date - you eat and drink too much just to keep up the illusion of interest. A second danger that nobody will show up for this game.
I use this game to knock out the the traditional staples and eliminate my own delusions of grandeur of somehow figuring out a way to be hipster ironic, ironic of anything, and generally help that I am going to wake up Saturday morning feeling lazy or uncreative. Also, if someone shows up for the Saturday night game you can point to the trash can where the remnants of "usual" stuff now sits.
SATURDAY NIGHT GAME
Jets v Colts
This is the weekend's prime time event (more or less) and is really a chance to bust out the big guns. You want the following zone for this game: Old Person New Year's Eve. Which is zone where can get yourself just buzzed enough yet still happy enough where you can ignore the people you don't like while celebrating the people you love. Or in this case the food you love.
Let us eat.
Do yourself (and your friends) a favor by throwing a long party of gluttony and greatness. Your friends who actually like football will appreciate it - if there is anything I've learned from documenting tailgaters is that groups of people + football = good times. Also some of these games are going to be nearly intolerable to watch and you'll need SOMETHING to do beside tweet and post status update about how boring everything is.
PS If you're a vegetarian you really can substitute dishes throughout.
There are three rules:
- This a marathon and not a sprint & I've designed the menu as such - in fancy Top Chef terms it is a progression. I think.
- There has to be a sandwhich at each game. People need the freedom to jump up and down while watching.
- I live in Brooklyn so we don't have to worry about designated drivers - please drive safely for you suburbanites. Not really a rule, merely explaining alcohol.
Saints v Seahawks
This is a DANGER game, or for gamblers out there "the trap" game. There is a high chance this will be a blowout (at least until the Saints put Ivory and Thomas on the IR as I wrote this post) and a blowout is like a bad date - you eat and drink too much just to keep up the illusion of interest. A second danger that nobody will show up for this game.
I use this game to knock out the the traditional staples and eliminate my own delusions of grandeur of somehow figuring out a way to be hipster ironic, ironic of anything, and generally help that I am going to wake up Saturday morning feeling lazy or uncreative. Also, if someone shows up for the Saturday night game you can point to the trash can where the remnants of "usual" stuff now sits.
- Nachos. Do it the way my wife Danielle does it. She uses wwo cake pans to control the nacho output. Smart wife I have. You can also clean out a lot of leftovers from your fridge by the throwing them in your nachos concoction. Nachos are like the Lasagnas of football - anything can go in and it is still Nachos.
- Buffalo Wings. I spent one summer in New Jersey working in a chicken wing fast food place and the secret to making wings. Deep fry (or bake fry) the wings, take them out and THEN put them in the sauce.
Emulating this is pretty easy & you really don't need a deep frier. While your wings bake in the oven, take a bunch of bowls and fill them with the four sauce staples: medium, hot, bbq and honey mustard. Post-cooking split up the wings, throw in bowls, cover, shake, and then serve. If anyone double-dips ejection the person from the house and only let him (it is always a hit) return if he picks up wings. That is disgusting when it comes to sauces. - Chicken Sandwhiches. Super easy to make and always a hit. Probably since it is the healthiest thing for the first game. Also fills in the sandwhich rule.
- Beer. Heinken, PBR, and Coors. Get the irony out of the way. It always keeps people from getting too drunk in the first game.
SATURDAY NIGHT GAME
Jets v Colts
This is the weekend's prime time event (more or less) and is really a chance to bust out the big guns. You want the following zone for this game: Old Person New Year's Eve. Which is zone where can get yourself just buzzed enough yet still happy enough where you can ignore the people you don't like while celebrating the people you love. Or in this case the food you love.
- Pulled Pork Sandwhiches. Throw a bunch of pork butt into a slow cooker, some red wine, some onions, and a bunch of other stuff I am not talking about. The key is about 6-8 hours slow cook, drain liquid, shred, add bbq sauce and an hour on high in the slow cooker. The second key: use good BBQ sauce. Since this will be cooking during the first game you will have to fend off people who try to nab some early bites. I use one thick KC type sauce and one vinegar type so I can keep all BBQ fanatics happy.
- Mac & Cheese. I am not talking store bought Kraft. Use two different types of pasta - shells and rotini work, some sharp sheddar, bacon, and pastore cheese. If you use 1 pound of cheese total and 2 pounds of pasta you can feed at least 8 people without issue. It is also surprisingly cost effective. For people who have veggie friends you can use two smaller pans and do one without bacon.
- Shots. That's right, I said SHOTS! One shot to start the game. Another at half time. You'll feel cool and young again and there is no way the alcohol will touch your stomach since DO YOU KNOW HOW HEAVY the two dishes are?
- Dark and Stormy. Since this is the over indulgence game go for it. Ginger beer mixed with Gosling's rum. This drink is so tasty I once told my oldest friend John I was having it at a party, he mentioned it to his pregnant wife and she became so jealous she made one for herself. A drink so good pregnant women endanger unborn children.
What is great is that you have enough cheap beer left over from game one that nobody mined since the food is so good. That is it. That is all you need to get you through the first day.
It will also get you through most of the weekend as nobody is going to be able to move enough to come over.
SUNDAY EARLY GAME
Baltimore v KC
I consider this a brunch-type game and how many hardcore Baltimore of KC fans do you know who are going to show up for the first quarter? Let us go light and fluffy at this point as the meat and mac will still be hanging out in your stomach. Also, you did shots the night before - take it easy soldier. This is also the traditional day of football and as I traditionalist every game must include grilling outdoors.
- French Toast. For a football game? Yes. Do you know how easy it is to make French toast? I watch Danielle make it all the time and it looks really easy when she does it. They can also be made to order. Danielle does that because I am in charge of the next item.
- Bacon Blue Cheese Burgers (medium rare). My friends would never forgive me if I did not have something that appeals to the base animal instincts (nor would my cat who is busy stealing food all day). My butcher uses a combination short ribs and brisket mix which would be competely WASTED on people at this point - save that for a small BBQ as there is no need to get crazy. They get the 85% lean though and I mix in some bacon and blue cheese directly into the meat. For Danielle and her pregant friends I will make some Blue Cheese-less and medium. This can be a DANGER item for a close game - if at halftime I think the game is going down to the wire I'm cooking up a bunch of them and leaving them out. Enjoy your cold burger or learn how to use my microwave for re-heating.
- Mimosas. Champagne and football DO mix.
- Coffee. Have a pot ready. Never hurts.
- Beer. You'll want to start drinkings just after half time. I would move up to Sam Adams or whatever of the million microbrews are out there. Stay away from anything flavored though.
LATER SUNDAY GAME
Green Bay v Philadelphia
This is the home stretch and congratulations on making it this far. The twitching in that eye is normal. Do not call in sick before the game though - the boss will be suspcious.
- Mini-hotdogs. First of all it is an awesome food. No party is ever complete without them and have you ever heard someone say: Man, I hated that they had mini-hotdogs? Also you mini-hot dogs, mustard, and Michael Vick jokes go over really well.
- Rib-eyed sandwhiches. Fire up the grill and reward your guests and friends for making it this far.
- Left overs. You really think you won't have any at this point? You're going to be eating this stuff all week.
- Another shot. To start the game. To the end the game. If I wasn't so cheap I would get a bottle of Petron.
- Top shelf alcohol. This is when I usually let a mixologist friend take over, or I left people into the Black label. Anyone drinking at this point is a professional anyway and you must treat them with the utmost respect.
There you have it former football players. After this weekend you will be converted to the happy factor of football eating and over indulgence. Do not worry about drinking too much as chances are you'll be calling into work sick on Monday anyway. And who won the games? Does it really matter (unless you're rooting for one of the six teams playing). Your fantasy football team isn't playing anymore and you are now fat and happy.
Wayne
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