Six weeks ago I said either the Nets or the Sixers would be heading to the NBA Finals (and Phoenix and Miami wouldn’t be). I still stand by these statements. (It’s gonna be Sixers-Warriors, by the way.)
Great as my forecasting abilities are, I certainly didn’t think the Nets would be swept in their first round series with Boston.
Wow.
This is like the 1990 A’s getting swept by the Reds in the World Series.
Yeah, you have to be over 35 to get that reference.
If you’re under 35 check your phone.
On a previous episode of Math and Musings I suggested that no one on HBO’s Winning Time was being misrepresented in any unfair way (read:actionable), though I was sure it would come eventually.
Yeah, I think that time has come.
Sunday’s episode was pretty loose with the historical accuracy and I’m sure people will get sued.
But damn it was good television.
We’ve gone very quickly from staying in because it’s too cold to staying in because it’s too hot. Super.
My son introduced me over the weekend during our time indoors to “reaction videos.” You familiar with these? Third degree television viewing that’s at least cubed as bad as the real thing. Watching a video of someone else watching a video of someone doing something.
Right.
Idea for next album: me listening to someone else’s really great album.
Idea for new book: me reading someone else’s bestseller.
Hmm… better pick one no one will recognize.
Shakespeare’s in the public domain now, right?
New phrase for circumstances when calling something “a dick move” would be too coarse…
Like intentionally walking a guy with 2,999 hits.
Good thing I got out of Binghamton when I did. Seems as though as I was posting Monday morning the Bing was getting 14 inches of snow. Hmph.
Oh, it’s not the 14 inches of snow at the end of April that surprises me, it’s that I was somehow able to miss it.
If you’re going to be good or lucky… choose lucky.
Over the weekend I found myself back in the old country, braving the snow and cold (seriously) in Binghamton, New York.
As I’ve noted before, Binghamton is probably the worst place on Earth, but it’s also home to like six people I enjoy seeing. Saw them this weekend.
The highlight of my trip was actually walking into an old, familiar bar and being asked to show ID. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or beam with pride.
Maybe a little bit of both.
Report from the road complete: Nats farm team does justice to the parent club, and more importantly its stadium does too.
In a word, yes, the new ballpark of the Fredericksburg Nationals trumps the club’s previous home by a 500-foot dinger. Though that’s a little like saying the reliever coming in is a better pitcher than Charlie Brown.
From the worst minor-league park I’ve ever been to (that was the one in Woodbridge) to one of the nicest, Virginia Credit Union Stadium in Fredericksburg is Single-A baseball with Northern Virginia money. The old park was expensive and crappy; this one is expensive and nice. Home run seats in a Single-A park? That’s a nice touch. Playground? Classy dining area? Historical exhibit? All swell. They didn’t take any chances, but they didn’t screw up anything either.
My favorite part of the game Wednesday was getting to go with my son. I’d been to plenty of those kid-friendly morning starts in my life, but always solo as an awkward grownup. This time I was an awkward grownup with my son. That’s less awkward somehow.
As unawkward as a geeky math teacher from the suburbs can get.
Today’s the day I’m doing it. Gonna see the farm team finally. This morning, actually, as the Single-A Fredericksburg Nationals take on the Carolina Mudcats at Virginia Credit Union Stadium, at 11:05. Damn I love morning baseball.
I haven’t seen a pro game of organized ball since 2019, and I’m excited to see the new stadium. Even with the pathetic corporate name it’s gotta be better than that God-awful one they had in Woodbridge.
And there’s nothing like watching guys half your age to keep you humble.
Well, the weekend didn’t end with Tiger Woods donning another green jacket, but I did get to see some damn good golf, some damn good baseball, and parts of at least two good series on “TV.”
I’m happy to say Ken Burns’s latest offering, Benjamin Franklin, is up to Ken’s usual level of excellence. (I’m a Ben Franklin fan anyway, but wow that guy was a lousy father and husband.) Also I should say that HBO’s Winning Time has really turned it around since I gave my original take some weeks ago.
Series concludes May 8.
Life goes on happily.
On the first day of The Masters every year there’s always an old man who somehow keeps up with the leaders through Round One, giving hope to old guys all over the world.
I guess it would be Tiger Woods some day.
The future is now.