I'm not really sure what time or day it is. I just woke up and am still very groggy, but here's what I remember.
I was at work on Thursday (yesterday) and wasn't feeling very well. Knee was hurting, stomache was upset and I was running on too little sleep. The night before was The Mookie, which is a late night for me, plus I decided to play MORE poker after that. Bad idea.
So I'm riding the bus home and struggling to stay awake. I always read on the bus ride home, which I love. God help you if you try chatting with me about your day while I'm on the bus. No, I don't wanna make small talk about the weather or your job. (I'm really a terrible person) I just wanna veg out after a long day at work and fall into my book.
But I couldn't yesterday because reading was making me even sleepier. So I focused on staying awake.
When I got home I gave Sugar Bear explicit instructions. "I am taking a nap. Do not wake the sleeping bear!" And off I went to bed, thinking I'd nap for an hour or 2 tops. I woke at like 2am not knowing what day it was.
But I still knew how to play poker.....um kinda. Not successful poker! I played a couple of the one table games I was telling you about and I lost. :( Boo!
I played 2 after the mookie and lost those too. So I am 0-4 on the 9 person games - only 6 to go!
Anyway, I play the games, eat a sandwich and watch some Real Housewives on demand. Both NY and NJ. I like the Real Housewives on NY better - Bettany is my fave. Love her!
I think if you morph Bettany from NY with Teresa from Real Housewives of NJ, what you get is.......ME.
Yep, it's true. Take Bettany's sharp tongue and wit and combine it with Teresa's "Italianess and temper" and voila! Very Josie! I am purposely ignoring the fact that Teresa is a wee bit dumb. :) So what, she's still entertaining.
Remember Teresa's table throwing incident? I could see me doing that if provoked. I remember in my teens (a while ago) I was sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal and my brother was aggravating me. I don't remember what he was saying, but he kept reaching over and poking me. Typical brother/sister stuff. We were very close and he was always trying to goad me and I was always the quiet one (believe it or not).
So I am ignoring him and he keeps aggravating. This goes on for a while. Grrrrrrr At one point he finally stops - sits across the table from me and smiles with a smug look of satisfaction. That was it. I can still see the look of surprise on his face though, when I picked up my glass bowl of cereal and milk and threw it right at him. Milk and cereal everywhere especially onn him and a broken bowl at his feet.
He was shocked! I kinda was too. Not something I'd do. I was very quiet and VERY nonviolent, back then anyway. ;) And the first words out of his mouth? "I'm sorry". Second words were, "I can't believe you did that".
Then I got up and left him to clean up the mess, which he did.
So anyway, after some poker, Real Housewives, and a sandwich, I go back to bed. Probably at 4am. Mind you I had already slept from like 6pm to 2am but no matter. I return to bed at 4am, and um...I JUST WOKE UP.
I'm having coffee and since I'm in no rush to go anywhere, I will tell you about my Carl Yaskremski encounter. BTW it's "Yaz" for short...in case you live on another planet or are 16 years old and didn't know that.
Sooooo we are in Florida and the Red Sox have a day off. We decide that we will go their training complex, which is in a different location than the field.
The training complex is so cool because they let fans in to watch and everyone is training like RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU. No barriers, no walls, no nothing. A few security guys but that's it. To start, as soon as I get there, there are like 10 minor league pitchers sitting on benches watching another kid pitch. I sit WITH THEM and watch. That's just how it is. So cool. All these young kids with their throwing arms wrapped up till they're 5 times their normal size.
I watch Dwight Evans give out hitting advice to newbies from like 5 feet away. I keep my mouth shut and just watch and listen in awe. Of course I get pictures with him. Then I see Theo Epstein (tall bastard) overseeing some drills and stand next to him and watch! Of course I get my picture taken with everyone. Everyone is so nice and accomodating.....except......
Fans are whispering that...."...see that guy wayyyy over there? that's Yaz!". No one's supposed to talk to him though. I hear that he walks around the entire training facility 3 times every morning for exercise. And you can go anywhere you want here, except near him. His walk at the perimeter is roped off. No one is supposed to talk to him. All the fans want an autograph and I love a challenge!
Then they tell me that yesterday when he was doing his walk, there was a guy in a wheelchair that asked him for his autograph and Yaz turned him down. Then Yaz said, I'll be back later, if you're here later I'll sign for you. This is just heresay mind you. So wheelchair guy waited there for hours and you guessed it, no autograph.
The only opportunity to get one is when his walk is over. Then he has to go from the perimeter to the building where lockers and showers are. It's a very small window.
As he crosses from the grass onto the sidewalk near the building, people start pleading "Please Mr. Yaskremski, can you sign this?" Either "no" or no answer.
I decide to lean on the building and wait instead of being near the field. He has to walk right by me to get to the door. I dunno why I am the only one who did this. I know my friend brian stayed with the other fans.
Anyway he walks past me toward the door and I start talking fast! Something like " I know you don't sign but I've been a fan since I was 9 years old. It would mean alot but if you really can't sign, can you at least turn around and say hello?"
And he does. He gives me like 2 minutes. His hand is on the door handle and he says 'Look this isn't what I'm here for" And I say "I just wanted to tell you that you were a big part of my youth. I may not look old enough to be a fan in 1975 but I was." He smiles....and boom. He asks me if I want an autograph.
In my mind, I'm wondering if I can finagle an extra signature for Brian. I'm also thinking....why isn't Brian sidling up and getting one himself...make hay when the sun is shining, right? But he doesn't. He's watching with his mouth agape.
So Yaz signs my ball, hands it back, and is gone through that door in an instant.
I go back to my friend and EVERYONE crowds me to see my cooooooool autograph, and tell me that never happens.