Game Two

I woke up this morning to the sound of hail pelting my roof. Throughout the rest of the day, a cold rain made an unseasonably cold day seem that much was. Not, not seem worse: it made it worse. So, baseball and its association with warm weather and soft summer nights was not on my mind today. Which is just as well, I guess. On Opening Day, the Sox lost 7-1 to the Kansas City Royals. Schilling had his worst outing in 10 years and a couple of base running gaffes acted like salt in the wounds.

I heard the same phrase over and over again yesterday, on talk radio, in the newspaper, and on various websites: "It's only the first game, BUT ..." and then a litany of complaints followed.

It's only the first game, but I don't know if I can take an extended period of negativity. Just think what will happen tomorrow night if Dice-K, the greatest rookie pitcher ever (apparently), gets roughed up.

Tonight they play the Royals again. We'll see what happens.

Sam was nonplussed by the Opening Day loss. "What was the score?" he asked. "Seven to one," I told him. "Oh," was his response.

Sometimes it's good that kids can keep things simple like that.