Ribbie Reporter: October Baseball

Ah, it's October 1, meaning that my annual GPA slump has officially begun. My teachers at Woodberry have known about this since 2003, when I spent October camped in Mr. Keating's living room and watching Aaron Boone's Game 7 homer in the ALCS in a silent commons room. Why was it silent? Well, Haynes David and I had sneaked down there after lights out and didn't dare turn on the volume for fear of waking up a prefect or duty master. Mr. Parker was initially worried about my GPA, but after I successfully managed to study for his vocabulary quizzes while watching the Sox play, his concerns abated. Things were better in 2004, when I could just go downstairs to Mr. Keating's apartment and watch the games without ever having to sneak off of the dorm.
There's a new problem this year: for the first time in 21 seasons, I can legally purchase beer, allowing me to combine not one, but TWO American pastimes. And my roommate, Chris, is a slightly obnoxious Red Sox fan, so I need beer if I'm going to watch any games with him.

In any event, I wanted to share this text message exchange I had with my dad during the early innings of the Cubs game (if you didn't know, he holds lingering Cubs loyalty from his childhood days when the KC A's were a joke under Finley. This loyalty grew deeper during his years in Chicago after college).

Ribbie Reporter: You watching the Cubs?
Burnt End Bomber: Nope, going to choir practice.
Ribbie Reporter: But aren't the Cubs a religion too? And one that requires a lot of faith?
Burnt End Bomber: Yeah, but remember when I worshipped there in 1984 Leon Durham burned the church.
Ribbie Reporter: Where does Bartman rank? Prince Of Darkness
Burnt End Bomber: (No response)

Yep... I think that sums up the Cubs for us. We haven't even gotten into the pagan rituals (see Goat, Billy and exploding the Bartman ball), the '69 collapse and more.

I love baseball.