Holy Crap. That game last night was a heart-breaker. I feel bad for the poor bastard who got his hand in front of Alou's glove. You can't blame the guy. He saw the ball coming and tried to catch it. That's what you do in the stands. He just happened to be in the front row when the ball was actually playable. If he had been a row further back, if Alou hadn't gotten to the wall as fast, if the next picth had been a strike instead of a ball, if the rest of the Cubs hadn't fallen apart in the rest of the inning, any of these, and no one would care. It would have made a few recap shows, and been forgotten about by tomorrow. But now he's got his face plastered all over the internet and is going to be a scapegoat for the entire fiasco.
The ones who deserve blame are the guys who are out there getting paid (a shit load) for stopping the balls... and don't. The guy in the stands did not cost the Cubs even 1 run, let alone 8, by touching a ball that was already foul. No. The Cubs, in classic Cubs style, snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. They know there are millions of people who have been waiting their whole lives for a World Series at Wrigley, and they like to see us suffer. The bitches.
Oh well. Tonight, Woody will picth us a good old fashioned 25 strikeout no hitter and get himself a dozen or so RBI's just to be sure and it'll all be better. No... Seriously.
Anyway. My first anniversary has come and gone. It was nice. We visited some of the Frank Lloyd Wright stuff in Oak Park, and had a really nice dinner. This weekend we went and visited all of the parents and toured the Wineries around the St. Louis area (good stuff, and I didn't used to even like wine) and had an all around good time. That is all.