Whiny watched the end of the game with me last night. In the wee hours of the morning, he got out of bed and watched a Red Sox hitter knock a dramatic 12th inning homer in a must-win game in the playoffs.
I was only 13 when I did exactly the same damned thing.
Even if the Sox don’t win this time, they’ve laid the foundation for a beautiful night in
UPDATE: I am revising my estimate of this future father-son bonding experience. That’s because it just hit me how old my dad was in 1975. As I am now, he was 42…
So, this is the answer to life, the universe and everything after all!