Well, Paul is back and, if not totally happy, at least happier. As for me, well, it looks like the week I missed held more of the same (a team that is terminally incapable of putting together any sustained offense) and more of the new (Eric Gagne: Mole) . I am glad to have not been watching; my time with the wife and kids had to have been a hell of a lot more enjoyable then watching our wonderful Canuck channel Calvin Schiraldi and "BK Kim: the Arizona Years™".
But now my time is up, and I am back in the fray. And in a new way, as well. After spending the week off the blog, I realized that my anonymity held nothing of substance, really. So it’s gone, along with (hopefully) obsessive-compulsive game-thread posts revealing non-stop annoyance and the resultant touch of surliness when the games end poorly. A little background – my name is Andy, I’m 38 years old, grew up in Newton, Mass., and practice architecture in New York City – I have now lived amongst the enemy for 13 years. I am married, have two kids, and am training the youngest to root for the Mets. I figure he’s a New Yorker from birth, so trying to get him to love the Sox is highly unlikely. The Mets are my hedge.
So now, the rest of the season. Second place rapidly approaches.