baseball, football, whatever. . .

Hooray for the Yankees! Good. Now it's over. I've seen more spitting in the past few days than I have seen in my lifetime. I gave birth to one spitter. He knows who he is. I used to take a walk outside and discover a huge louie hanging off something in the back yard and, gag, had to get the garden hose or something to take it down. Spitting is gross. It makes me sick. All throughout the world series we were treated to one player after another hucking up a louie and spitting something onto the field. I mean really. All the instances where I was either performing or competing or something that required intensive physical activity and focus, never, NEVER did spitting come into my head as something I should do. Spitting never entered my mind. I'm stressed, I'm tired, We're in a crucial spot here. Maybe I'll spit-that will help! What are these guys doing? And what about the guys who are coming up BEHIND them? Do they have to step around it? Are louies hanging off all the bases and laying in the dirt like little mine fields? What about sliding into 2nd? If I knew I would be grazing through a louie pasture in order to get to the base, forget it! I'll just stand here on first and wait. So now we move to football, where they spend endless hours patting each others heinies and pouring ice cold gatorade over each others heads. Could someone explain all this to me? I'm confused. Allison and I were discussing the benefits of being a "fan" of something - anything! But we're not. We're not fans, we're tolerators. And so, now we move to Sundays. Oh well. That's OK. Football has good food with it. That we're into.