Pride Goeth Before a Fall

Yesterday morning around 7:00 was the moment of truth. I had been putting it off ever since we got back from Maine. It was time…time to step on the scale. After two weeks of eating incredible food, devouring snacks of every description, and enjoying more adult beverages than is my custom, I was expecting the worst. Sure, I had lots of exercise, spent almost every day outside in the fresh air and all…but all that bread!! I turned on the shower, brushed my teeth while the water warmed up, then reluctantly stepped up to the plate and…nothing. I had gained…nothing. I was the exact weight I was before I left! I celebrated with a fist pump and stood under the hot water for a minute, about as self satisfied and cocky as I have been in a long time. 

…Then while reaching for the body wash I pulled a muscle in my neck. I could practically hear my mother’s voice, “Pride goeth before a fall.”

So, I have been in pain ever since, head cocked ever so slightly port side, a hand under my chin propping my head up to ease the spasms. However uncomfortable this has been, it has not prohibited me from feasting on post season baseball and the incredible runs being put on by the Red Sox and the Braves. I have enjoyed every minute of these games. I can’t remember watching a team hit quite as well as the Red Sox are hitting this post season. And watching any team beat the Dodgers has been glorious. Sure, I have my qualms with certain aspects of modern baseball. Eduardo Rodriguez goes 6 innings and gives up three runs and you’d think he was the reincarnation of Cy Young to hear the announcers gushing. Bob Gipson, Sandy Koufax, and Mickey Lolitch must be shaking their heads in disbelief at what passes for dominant post season pitching these days. But, I quibble. Its still baseball and I still love it.