Watching the MLB All Star Game. I always say that I’m not going to bother again next year, and yet I always end up in front of the television again.
Well, we’ll see how long I can last. I’m mainly just hoping they put players from my team in (that would be the Braves). And I kinda enjoyed it when my baby son booed the Yankees manager, so that was worthwhile, too. And it’s always fun to listen to my husband rail about how the singer is butchering the national anthem.
But mostly? Ho hum. And that’s the thing. It’s nearly always ho hum. Three innings in, no one’s really given me a reason to think that’s likely to change. The American League team will probably win again, when my poor National League finally, inevitably gives up the ghost. Hmmm. How long should I give it before going to bed? (what? I have small children. I can’t stay awake that late anymore. Yawn.)
But, like they always say, there’s always next year, right? And sigh. There probably will be, even for me.