29 October 2007
The Best Part
I admit it. I despaired. After predicting and then watching super-closer turned super-goat Eric Gagne blow yet another save back in August, I lost all hope that the Sox would even reach the post-season, let alone win the Series. I despaired for Tessie, fearing that I had somehow revived the Curse, and that she would resent me forever for naming her in honor of the 2004 Curse-breaking Sox and "that damn 'Tessie' song."
As I lay on the couch that night, gasping for breath (I was hyperventilating - really), I worried that Tessie would face ridicule or disparagement because of her misguided father's moronic idea to name her in honor of a bunch of guys neither one of them would ever meet. I seriously contemplated changing her name.
The Red Sox did manage to hang on to just enough of their early season lead - it's a marathon, not a sprint, the saying goes - and they advanced to the postseason, sweeping the Angels, bouncing back from the brink of elimination against the Indians, and then sweeping the Rockies to win it all. Tessie has now witnessed in her first full season what it took me 37 years to see, and what many fans never saw - the Red Sox as World Champions.
So what was the best part? The victory itself? No. As great as it feels to have watched, cheered on and encouraged a team to an eventual championship, I do realize that this has a rather limited effect on my life, as my cheering, I'm sure, had a limited effect on the Red Sox.
The feeling that this is only the beginning? No, again. While a Red Sox 'Dynasty' may in fact be in the works, and there is reason for great optimism in Red Sox Nation, anything can happen. Injuries, misguided trades, bad calls - all can conspire to crush a season. I am grateful for 2004, of course, and now 2007. Next year is next year, and anything can happen.
Vindication for Tessie's name? No, not that either. Dark as the depths to which I sank in August were, I did eventually realize that a name is just a name. She can make of it what she will. She may, in time, choose to be called 'Teresa,' or 'Terri,' or even by her middle name, Caroline. (Yes, Caroline, as in 'Sweet Caroline,' as in sung at Fenway in the eighth inning. When I lay it on, I lay it on thick. I'm still surprised Hannah let me get away with this.) She's got options. If she wants to keep her Red Sox fanhood a secret, instead of wearing it on her sleeve and her driver's license, she may. (She may not, however, switch allegiances to the Yankees. Ever. Under any circumstances. Tessie, do you understand?)
Avoiding my worst nightmare? Not quite. In true, pessimistic Red Sox fan fashion, in the back of my mind I held a bit of dread that the Red Sox would win the the first three games of the best-of-seven World Series and then lose the next four. This sprang from the 2004 ALCS, in which the Red Sox did precisely that, recovering from losing the first three games to win the next four and advance to the World Series at the Yankees' expense, bestowing the title of "Greatest Choke of All-Time" on the Bronx Bummers. If the Sox managed to unravel, the New-Yawk-accent-inflected catcalls would have been deafening, and undeniable. So, while relief and joy compete for preeminence in my baseball-obsessed psyche, I never really felt that such a collapse was in the offing.
Dancing around the room with Tessie in my arms after Jonathan Papelbon struck Seth Smith out swinging to end the game and win the World Series? That was pretty sweet, as were Tessie's final Victory Tosses. (Possibly her final Victory Tosses ever, as I expect her to have put on enough weight by next season that hefting her up over my head will be out of the question.) Her delight, uncomprehending though it (probably) was, enhanced my joy. She giggled, applauded, cooed and babbled, all with a grin as wide as it could have been.
The best part came earlier in Game Four. I had settled in on the couch to watch, and Tessie came toddling by (she is a toddler, after all), and plopped her stuffed bear down in a seated position next to me. Before she backed away, she leaned in and gave him a hug and a little peck. My response? Jealousy, of course; I had yet to receive one of my daughter's kisses. "What's this?" I said, "Mr. Bear gets smoochies and I don't?" I leaned over, and she did in fact give me a kiss before toddling away again. That was it. First one ever. While Jon Lester was striking out Troy Tulowitzki in the bottom of the third inning. Ahhh.
That was the best part of the World Series.
As I lay on the couch that night, gasping for breath (I was hyperventilating - really), I worried that Tessie would face ridicule or disparagement because of her misguided father's moronic idea to name her in honor of a bunch of guys neither one of them would ever meet. I seriously contemplated changing her name.
The Red Sox did manage to hang on to just enough of their early season lead - it's a marathon, not a sprint, the saying goes - and they advanced to the postseason, sweeping the Angels, bouncing back from the brink of elimination against the Indians, and then sweeping the Rockies to win it all. Tessie has now witnessed in her first full season what it took me 37 years to see, and what many fans never saw - the Red Sox as World Champions.
So what was the best part? The victory itself? No. As great as it feels to have watched, cheered on and encouraged a team to an eventual championship, I do realize that this has a rather limited effect on my life, as my cheering, I'm sure, had a limited effect on the Red Sox.
The feeling that this is only the beginning? No, again. While a Red Sox 'Dynasty' may in fact be in the works, and there is reason for great optimism in Red Sox Nation, anything can happen. Injuries, misguided trades, bad calls - all can conspire to crush a season. I am grateful for 2004, of course, and now 2007. Next year is next year, and anything can happen.
Vindication for Tessie's name? No, not that either. Dark as the depths to which I sank in August were, I did eventually realize that a name is just a name. She can make of it what she will. She may, in time, choose to be called 'Teresa,' or 'Terri,' or even by her middle name, Caroline. (Yes, Caroline, as in 'Sweet Caroline,' as in sung at Fenway in the eighth inning. When I lay it on, I lay it on thick. I'm still surprised Hannah let me get away with this.) She's got options. If she wants to keep her Red Sox fanhood a secret, instead of wearing it on her sleeve and her driver's license, she may. (She may not, however, switch allegiances to the Yankees. Ever. Under any circumstances. Tessie, do you understand?)
Avoiding my worst nightmare? Not quite. In true, pessimistic Red Sox fan fashion, in the back of my mind I held a bit of dread that the Red Sox would win the the first three games of the best-of-seven World Series and then lose the next four. This sprang from the 2004 ALCS, in which the Red Sox did precisely that, recovering from losing the first three games to win the next four and advance to the World Series at the Yankees' expense, bestowing the title of "Greatest Choke of All-Time" on the Bronx Bummers. If the Sox managed to unravel, the New-Yawk-accent-inflected catcalls would have been deafening, and undeniable. So, while relief and joy compete for preeminence in my baseball-obsessed psyche, I never really felt that such a collapse was in the offing.
Dancing around the room with Tessie in my arms after Jonathan Papelbon struck Seth Smith out swinging to end the game and win the World Series? That was pretty sweet, as were Tessie's final Victory Tosses. (Possibly her final Victory Tosses ever, as I expect her to have put on enough weight by next season that hefting her up over my head will be out of the question.) Her delight, uncomprehending though it (probably) was, enhanced my joy. She giggled, applauded, cooed and babbled, all with a grin as wide as it could have been.
The best part came earlier in Game Four. I had settled in on the couch to watch, and Tessie came toddling by (she is a toddler, after all), and plopped her stuffed bear down in a seated position next to me. Before she backed away, she leaned in and gave him a hug and a little peck. My response? Jealousy, of course; I had yet to receive one of my daughter's kisses. "What's this?" I said, "Mr. Bear gets smoochies and I don't?" I leaned over, and she did in fact give me a kiss before toddling away again. That was it. First one ever. While Jon Lester was striking out Troy Tulowitzki in the bottom of the third inning. Ahhh.
That was the best part of the World Series.
28 October 2007
Pumpkin Festival
We visited the KidSpace Pumpkin Festival this afternoon. Tessie wasn't quite big enough for most of the rides and games, but she really liked watching some Mexican folk dancers from atop my shoulders, petting some stranger's little dog, and having Mommy and Daddy push her on the swings.
Meanwhile, Santa Teresita showed in the fifth race at Santa Anita, paying $4.80. Maybe I should trust Tessie's instincts more.A Day at the Races
At the suggestion of our friends Royce & Heather (and their son, Ben), we had a lovely breakfast this morning at the famous Santa Anita racetrack. The 'Clockers' Corner' restaurant sits right beside the training track, and as we ate, racing thoroughbreds cantered and galloped past us. 
The kids were excited to see such large animals up close, and we, too, were impressed with how close we were allowed to get. Then, of course, Tessie and Ben turned their backs on the animals and started climbing the steps into the grandstand. Tessie even went into the betting parlor; I was able to catch her before she plunked her allowance down on #8, Santa Teresita, in the 5th.(Just kidding. She doesn't really get an allowance.)
Tessie likes animals, and is always delighted by whatever dogs we may encounter on our walks around the neighborhood. She's fearless, and always tries to pat them, so we figured horses would be an even bigger thrill. Fortunately, Tessie isn't really talking yet, so we don't have to listen to "I want a pony!" ad infinitum. Yet. 
22 October 2007
Tessie's Newest Stunt
I only managed to catch the last cycle on video, but Tessie ran through this particular feat of climbing skill about a dozen times. (Climb the chair, sit up, grab table, slide off chair, repeat.)
Meanwhile, we've been having an exciting time watching baseball. After every Red Sox win, Tessie gets tossed in the air. (Don't worry - I never fully let go and she really, really likes it!) She gets one toss for every run the Sox scored, plus one for every home run they hit. I still owe her the tosses from last night's victory in ALCS Game Seven: eleven runs scored + Pedroia's home run + Youkilis' home run = 13 tosses! Earlier in the season I was also adding a toss for every consecutive Yankee loss, but they seem to have stopped playing...
We may have to end this particular tradition this year, though: she's getting a little too big for me to be tossing her so many times. Hopefully, we'll get four more opportunities this season, and then we'll have to come up with something new next year.
On to the World Series!
14 October 2007
Back to the Huntington
Another afternoon at the Huntington. This time, we started with a visit to the "Pressed in Time" exhibition of American engravings and lithographs from the 20th century. ("Made possible by a generous donation from Steve Martin." Really.) Lots of great modern prints, but Tessie most enjoyed running free through the exhibit hall.
Afterward, we went outside, first to let Tessie crawl around in the grass:
Then it was off to the Children's Garden, which contains many water features. Tessie did some splashing around:
Then she tried to drink some of the water. (It's probably safe to drink, but it's pretty heavily chlorinated.):
And eventually she just ended up soaked through:
Afterward, we went outside, first to let Tessie crawl around in the grass:
Then it was off to the Children's Garden, which contains many water features. Tessie did some splashing around:
Then she tried to drink some of the water. (It's probably safe to drink, but it's pretty heavily chlorinated.):
And eventually she just ended up soaked through:
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