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Cincinnati Reads

 It's taken a whole week to be able to talk about it, but I think it's finally time to mention that the playoffs don't matter any more. Who cares whether which big market team wins the world series?? San Fransisco knocked off the Reds, so I can't root for them, the Cardinals I can never root for, the Yankees no one cares to root for, and that leaves the Tigers (whom I love dearly, but don't follow very a second cousin or something).

We took Isaiah to clinch game #2 (a.k.a. Wednesday night's loss) and then my dad and I received tickets to go to Thursday's clinch game #3 (a.k.a. The End of the Season). We had great seats for game #3--so close that I could yell at the guys in SF's bullpen and I knew they could hear me. I got into their heads, saying things like, "Hey! Which of you is going to be the first to cry when a Redleg hits a game winning homerun off of you?" (those are biting words). Then I decided to shout at SF's right fielder, Hunter Pence, saying things like, "Hey Pence! Your sleeves are uneven!" (I'm positive he looked).

It really is interesting how the dynamics of being at the Reds game changes when you are sitting close enough that you feel you could actually make a difference towards home field advantage. I become much more invested in the game when I know (or at least think) that I am a crucial part to the Reds success. (Might I also add here that a sellout crowd does not help one's cause when one is trying to get in the head of an individual player. One might even lose one's voice trying to shout over the top of other unruly fans. Don't they realize that I am trying to do something here??)

But alas, another year has come to a close with no pennant to show for it. The Cincinnati Reads will just have to come out swinging next year...

In other news: The Home Depot is now selling Christmas items, including this very lovable Christmas cow, who can be yours for the low low price of $62.98!


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"The worst that could happen is wet shoes and a broken ankle."
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On the front side of the pond was a little island, about 7 feet away from the shoreline. It appeared to be the home for the geese and ducks who flocked about the water that warm winter day. From a distance it looked like an easy jump to make it from the bank to the island, but the closer I got to the edge of the pond, the further the jump appeared to be. I definitely knew I wouldn't be able to make the distance from a standing jump but I felt fairly confident I could make the jump with a running start.

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