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Thursday 19th Oct 2017

Sunday morning found me and my mates finishing the last morning of BaseballHQ Arizona First Pitch, discussing among other things completing the first Futures Draft (check out Bed Goes Up this coming Friday for details of that) and then scouting with Jason Grey and Deric McKamey who now perform that function for the Rays and Cards, respectively.

Things start early at First Pitch, as in 8:00 am and though I am an early riser somehow I get the idea of vacation drilled in my head when I am away like this. Add in that we tend to stay up late, and that sleeping away from my own bed and dogs and Diane usually means a restless night, so first pitch at First Pitch comes faster than I wish most of the time.

If I want to exercise for 20 minutes, and grab a bite before things kick into gear, that means 6:30 anyway, and for this old dog that makes it a rugged night if I go to bed and after midnight and then toss and turn.

Well, the Sunday mornings are the worst for it is hard enough for me to beat the 10:00 kickoff deadline when I am home, although I have to admit I am not sure why I stall around waiting to update the rosters of my four football teams.

I thought I was being proactive last Thursday morning, however, setting all my rosters: or so I thought.

Irrespective, I did not spend any of my time yesterday morning reviewing which cost a little as Jonathan Dwyer and the Jets defense remained active instead of Matt Hasselbeck (we can play anyone in the Offensive Flex spots of one league) and the Texans D.

By the time, however, the conference concluded around noon, Pasko Varnica and I caught the shuttle to McClaren Airport, dumped our luggage, and then went to eat lunch at a sports bar in the airport, watching football and tracking our teams and visiting until the flight home three hours later.

Which we did yesterday, although unfortunately the Chilis and its 854,941 TVs--which is where we usually eat--had changed hands and the new upscale bar and taqueria occupants, just a couple of tubes were there.

Still, Pasko and I sat down at the bar and had some pretty good street tacos, although we were limited to the Packers game which was not so bad: it is just I am spoiled in that setting, expecting to be able to watch whatever game I want both at Chilis and at home.

We were fingering our Iphones, checking scores and standings while we ate, then finishing and as we moved to our gate stopping by anything that showed any semblence of grid iron.

Funny thing is we were not alone. The number of people who I spied looking at their standings or saying "he is on my team," or suddenly frozen midstep as they walked past the Pittsburgh/Giants game to cheer or moan and then check their phones again was kind of fun.

Of course, then we had to get on the plane and lost all communication with mankind and the NFL as we knew it. Fortunately, the flight is only a couple of hours, and the first message I got was the ESPN update that Carson Palmer had just completed a pass and now the Raiders were only down 32-24, and then suddenly the game was tied.

The Raiders did lose, and the river of silver and black was parading to their cars as we passed the O.co Coliseum that houses both Oakland teams, but we did make it home just in time for me to get settled in, turn on the Falcons and Cowboys, and open up my laptop to write.

Funny how that works.

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