My girlfriend and I played softball tonight. Cool league, one game per week. I made a nice DP at short, doubling off the runner on first with a lob throw over her head. But we lost again. Like almost every baseball team I've been on since I was six, we're the lovable losers of the league. Every team gets in the playoffs, though, so we're just, uh, "saving" our wins until then.

The game ended, and we headed for a restaurant with a TV. We listened in the car to the Sox leaving men on base, down 4-3 late in the game. We got to watch the eighth, with Okajima doing a nice job. (I see Tavarez also did a fine job tonight.) The crowd looked into it, but we didn't have sound on the TV. We went to the ninth, still down one, and Papelbon kept it like that. A key walk to put the winning run at the plate, and then Papi stepped up. High fly, outfielder takes weird route, I'm thinking, Something good should come out of this. And the ball settles into the front row, and we and a few others go crazy. (Cyn has video!) Since this wasn't a sports bar per se, it wasn't exactly a party in the street. Also, the silent TV took away from it, but who cares? It was a sweet win, Papi's first walk-off of the season. We are the team to beat. The Yanks are the team to shit all over because they're a human toilet of disgust. My daily (since '75) wonderment of how anyone can like them continues today. They come in to Fenway either 5.5 or 4.5 back. The Tigers won to keep pace in the wild card, four back.

Got my playoff tickets today! 27 bucks....is the total fees for the pair. I get to go to a playoff game as part of my 10-game plan. There's always that worry, like, is my password gonna work? Am I gonna somehow eff this up? It's serious nervous-time. But I got them successfully. Can't wait for October baseball.

(pic of David Ortiz by me, like, a few nights ago)