On Sunday I posted a picture of the cute little Monkey sock I'm knitting out of Lorna's Laces in the Cool colorway. I was a proud sock knitter. So what happens Sunday night? I fall asleep with the socks on my bed and proceed to f*ck them up beyond any hope of salvation. So I frogged - one repeat away from turning the heel. Yep, socks hate me.
Tomorrow is the end of an era in San Francisco and it makes me sad. Barry Bonds won't be returning to the city as a Giant in 2008. Baseball will go on but it won't be the same. I grew up watching the heroics of his father and his godfather and unless his son gets drafted soon, they won't be much to watch at 2nd & King next year. I did go to quite a few games this year, including two Dodger games and got to see a few home runs in person (and got the pins to prove it).
I'm not sure what it is about the game of baseball that grabs your soul and never, ever lets go but I'm a victim and I consider myself blessed to have been able to watch the most powerful, graceful, entertaining hitter to ever play the game. (and I hope those two bastards at the chronicle choke on their illegally gotten grand jury transcripts).
In honor of Mr. Bonds last game at AT&T park, I leave you with this pic, from the year the park opened (I think).
It's my daughter and a bunch of her classmates on a field trip I chaparoned to a Giants game - all those cute little girls are high school Seniors now. Time marches on - no matter how much we want things to stay the same.