My beau, Marty, came by last night to watch the World Series
game. He promised that he would bring some refreshments, and I promised I would
supply the popcorn and microwave pizza rolls. What he brought in the way of
refreshments was a bottle of bourbon he had won by betting on the Red Sox in
the American League championship series over the Tigers. When he arrived, the
bottle had never been opened. Neither of us partakes in bourbon, or for that
matter, hard liquor in general, though I do like my wine.
Anyway, Marty stated that should the Red Sox win the night’s
game and thereby win the pennant, the two of us should toast them with a splash
of bourbon. That sounded like a nice idea, the only trouble was; I did not
believe they were going to win the game. I thought that the Cardinals had the
better starting pitcher, and the Cards would be playing with more desperation
than the Sox. That was my thinking. Marty felt pretty sure that the Sox were
going to clinch that night. He needed no reasons; he is simply a positive
thinker. Well, after a moment of conversation we made a bet; every time the Red
Sox scored a run, I would take a modest swallow of bourbon, and for every run
the Cardinals scored, Marty would do the same.
Later that night I witnessed the 9th inning, but
it was with a hazy mind, and through bourbon-blurred eyes. Yesterday evening I
learned that the Red Sox are the 2013 World Champions and also; I’d better
stick to wine.
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