The World Series

Wednesday evening brought the conclusion of this year's World Series, the images of which will likely be imprinted in the minds of million's of people across the nation. I am not one of those millions. As a staff member, I could have watched it, but a mild interest in the series led me to witness to final strikeout in a way I never quite had before.
I was in the second floor of the Carriage House. With two participants who are Phillies fans. Listening to it on my radio. Which I was holding above my head in the one spot that it could pick up the radio station. We had gone through the FM and AM stations several times before we finally found the game (which we knew was in the later stages) as the ninth inning started. When we found the right station, I had to try to find a spot where the radio could pick up the station at least decently. I found a nice spot about two feet above my shoulder. I held it there, and the Rays put the tying run on second with two outs. The potential final batter came up to the plate...and the reception went to almost none. I frantically started lifting the radio up and down (mostly for the benefit of the Phillies fans there, not so much for mine) and finally found another spot that picked up the station. After strike three, the two Phantics ran out yelling and I was left to ponder the depth of my bad luck as a sports fan. I basically follow baseball and football, and follow two teams from two different cities (Baltimore Orioles, Philadelphia Eagles). As of Wednesday, I have, in my sports concious lifetime, witnessed championships by a Baltimore team and a Philadelphia team. But not the right ones. It's almost like missing a coin flip lottery twice. Hmmm...
But yet, somehow life seems to go on (to borrow a Phelpsulous line from Calvin and Hobbes). I'm still here at HDC. I'm still serving in the same ways as I was before. And life is still good. Maybe now I'll start following the Bass Fishing Championship.