In honor of going to my first Mets game since before the Expos were the Nationals tomorrow, I'm sitting here on a rainy Friday night, watching a Mets Classic from May 7, 1991 when Darryl Strawberry made his unceremonious return to Shea as a Los Angeles Dodger.
Maybe its because I was young, but I never realized how scrawny looking Straw was when he was playing. Or, it could've been the tight baseball pants. Thanks to Manny Ramirez, most pros have adopted a relatively looser cut. I'm sure their wives and children are grateful.
Side note: Tim Belcher was a hell of a pitcher in his day. 1.67 ERA. Devastating. Even if its only May.
I have to read some crap articles about the revisionist history of Sovietology...not why I applied to grad school, so I'm procrastinating again. It would appear I get my blog ideas whilst avoiding doing homework. This is my last class, and I'm really glad. It's not that I don't enjoy the classes, but some of these readings we have are atrocious. That, and on more occasions than I'd probably wish to admit to, I feel like I'm the kid in the class that they let in as part of some moron outreach program for the mentally under-developed. But, I've managed to shame my way into a 3.3 GPA, which I guess counts for something.
Hope this gourmet book club pays off in some capacity down the line. That's all for now. Oh, and I bought NHL 2k9 as another excuse to not do my reading.
/"SSS.
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh21-----------000sssyuuuuuuuuuu2111 "????????????????? sssl,aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,q
(that's from my new cat, Miley.) She likes to help me type sometimes.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment