Saturday was Julie's 12th birthday! Hardly seems possible, as everyone has (unnecessarily) pointed out to me. She's the baby, right? She received a Kindle Paperwhite and so far loves it. I caved earlier this year and got Amazon Prime, and that opens up all kinds of special deals for buying/borrowing Kindle books. She's a big reader, so I think it will turn out to be a great gift.
Because of the birthday festivities, we did not go to Fenway Saturday night, and just as well, because it was a depressing loss.
But for those who have been living in a cave, Sunday was kind of a big day for Boston sports fans. Last Steph and I had heard, the Patriots were down 24–23. Just as we arrived at Yawkey Way, we heard a huge whoop from the crowd around the TV set at one of the memorabilia shops and we knew what it had to mean. Sure enough, everyboday's favorite quarterback Tom Brady had thrown one of his amazing passes to win the game. I don't do football, but I'm always happy when the Patriots win, because then everyone around me is happy.
And Sunday's game at Fenway? Well, let's just say that it's possible I've never screamed that loudly and jumped that enthusiastically for any reason, with the possible exception of my first Bruce Springsteen concert in 1980. It was by far the greatest rally I've ever witnessed, and we were rewarded for sitting through all those (chilly) innings of no hits for Papi's grand slam. Wow.
And now we just beat the Tigers again, and I'm beside myself. As I reminded some friends recently, not only do I not have a second-favorite baseball team to root for, I don't even have a second-favorite sport to watch. This, the Boston Red Sox, is it for me. So go Sox!