I'm as plugged-in as the next guy but I still enjoy reading the box scores first thing each morning in the newspaper. If I didn't have a 40 minute train ride maybe I wouldn't get the papers at all, who knows? I love to scan around for the names that mean something to me--did Maddux pitch last night? How did Hanley Ramirez do? While today's boxscores are souped-up compared to how the ones from our youth, they aren't that much different and I like the continuity.
Today is dress-down Friday. I rode to work this morning, caught up with how the game turned out last night (Joba got his first career loss in a soggy 7-6 affair; Farnsworth, Bruney are hurting), and jammed out to a host of tunes, wearing my oversized I-am-a-dork headphones. When I got to my desk at work, I decided I should probably tuck my shirt into my pants, only to find that my fly was wide open. Dag, Joe Cool the Jadrool. And nobody with the decency to say anything!
Oh well. Yo, check this out--it's so utterly badass it makes my teeth hurt.