I'm taking Friday off from work to go to the home opener (the Sox have opened on the road for the last 14 years, which I think is a major league record, further cementing our status as second-class citizens in the baseball world); we're going early and, weather permitting, will do some hardcore tailgating before the game. It's against the lowly Detroit Tigers, so I'm hopeful for at least a chance of victory. It's really amazing that my mood in general can turn on such simple things as a change in the weather or the start of baseball season. I think this is a sign that as I get older and more mature, I become increasingly retarded.
By the way, I noticed yesterday that while my beloved Sox were getting blanked by the weak-ass Royals, the hated Cubs were running roughshod all over the hapless Mets. I predicted to a friend that this spoiled any hopes that the Cub-crazy local media would pay any attention at all to the fact that the Sox even played a game. Sure enough, the har-dee-har-har front-page headline of the tabloid rag Sun-Times: "CUBS IN FIRST PLACE!"