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Where do I begin really? I didn't really have much of a choice in terms of writing about all these at once. Well, maybe Miss Johnson of Parkmont High School would argue otherwise, but the fact is I was busy last night "preparing for surgery" which technically should have been me going to bed early, but after watching the Rangers miraculously squeeze out a win, I ate half a grilled chicken sandwich and enjoyed good company, the latter being a significant calming influence. And my sister says that sometimes NOT being productive is actually productive, because it means you're catching up on necessary downtime. So...Kris: 1, Arguments for Why I Should Have Been Productive: 0.

The only real comment I'll make about the Yanks' win over TB on Wednesday is that it continued to bolster my Cano being awesome prediction while also dismantling my Jeter having a tough year prediction. This is why I don't understand how people can downplay Jeter's intrinsic indispensibility to the Yankees. People constantly dismiss the "intangibles" contention, pointing out that intangibles is just a euphamism for not having decent enough stats and performance to back up a case for his quality. (Actually, they probably don't say it like that since I don't think people who make such a weak case know the meaning of euphamism. If they were really smart, they'd point out that all stats are intangible since you can't actually physically hold any of them.)

I didn't get to see this game since it was on at some awkward time that, as usual, fell within my working hours. I keep going back and forth between getting and MLB Extra Innings, until I remember that blacks out pretty much everything worth watching. But I DID get to see the Rangers game. I think even the Rangers themselves were shocked they won that one. It was an abyssmal defensive showing on the Caps end, and towards the final minutes of the game. the Rangers were playing like the score was something closer to a 7 goal margin and not the meager 1 up they had on Washington.

What the game did prove to anyone who just tuned in for the first time in months yesterday, was something that's been happening ever since about, oh roughly 1 month, 2 weeks, and 8 days, was that the Rangers aren't the same "um so do you want to shoot? Yeah, me neither" team they were a couple of months mid season. They were channeling Pistol Pete style. (Sort of, not that impressive when compared to other teams, but considered they were 29th in S/G during Renney Days, and now 12th with Torts, it's an improvement.) I hope Gomez keeps it up. And I hope Drury comes back tomorrow.

So I watched the Ranger game, ate basically my 48th grilled chicken sandwich of the week, and had my nerves calmed by delightful company. The surgery was scheduled for 9:30 this time, instead of 6:30, which was HUGE. So much less stressful during pre-op. Not a fan of the 2 hours you wait wearing a paper towel as a garment, while donning a billowy shower cap thing that makes me look like Toadstool.

But it all worked out. The anasthesiologist came over and said I looked nervous (true story) and I explained to him my concerns that developed from seeing "Awake."

Guess he gets that alot, so he tells me he read the script for it as a consultant for the movie and that he "told everyone it was going to freak people out, and of course it did." But he also confirmed that yes, 1 in 700-1000 patients every year end up being awake through general anasthesia, which seems like a staggering amount to me. He assured me ACL reconstruction does not involve muscle relaxants which is how something like that would happen. Oh, and that also they attach something to my head to detect brain waves which indicate whether I'm conscious. (I probably would have led with the 2nd reason, but semantics..)

And it's bizarre, I have zero recollection of anything that happened after laying on the table. I just woke up all of sudden from a brief bad dream of being O'Hare with my coworkers telling me I missed a deadline, and I was frantically trying to finish something up at classroom-like looking thing in the airport, but they kept saying, "it's too late, you can't finish it now."

Which amounted to me waking up and yelling at the adorable resident nearby, "Did you send the pdf out yet??"

(I covered, uh, *smoothly* with, "Oh, yeah I meant what's the score of the game?" This anecdote will be my ace in the hole in future discussions with my mother asking me why I can't I just marry a doctor.)

I'm a little upset afterwards, because my leg is killing me and my sisters are at the game and I just want to be with them at the biggest opening day I've been alive for. I've gone to opening day every year since I've been back in NY after college (which I guess is only 6 years), but still. And I'm also sad because a Bosux pal patently neglected to call post-op ON TOP OF steadily updating his facebook status to assert his active interest in seeing the Yanks lose.

Here's the thing--this was a big day for Yankee fans. I get rooting against the Yanks in any other game of the year, whether they're playing your team or not. I get it. (Sort of. I don't really scrutinize the Sox record until at least a few weeks into the season.) But I definitely don't demonstrate a mentality that practically suggests more of a profound enthusiasm for hating one team than supporting another. What difference does it make if the Yanks lose? It has ZERO bearing on the Sox. I rooted for the Mets when they opened in Citifield because it's a historic day for them. I was thrilled Posada got the first HR, exponentially more so than if it had been Cody Ransom or something--not that that was a threat or anything--because years from now, that will be a legit meaningful moment in Yankee history. A vet like Posada christens the new home.

WHY would you go out of your way to ruin something like that for baseball history? Say what you will about the Yanks, but there's no denying that their franchise has played a big role in history, including their stadium. And even though I'm still long from warming up to the new digs, I can respect the impact of the day the Yanks moved away from The House That Ruth Built. I'm not saying it should be a national holiday. But even haters had to acknowledge the significance of the last game played there last year. (Most didn't, but enough did.)

What do you get from taking that from us? It's more than wishing for a loss, it's just--for lack of a better word--mean. And as my mom says, "Our first responsibility is to be a good person."

So my mom and I go to get lunch right after leaving the hospital, mostly because I want to put off walking up the 5-flight walkup for as long as possible. We go to Dorrians mostly because I know it won't be packed at 2:30 on a Thursday, and because I'll see at least 1 one of my friends there who can help me manuveur around. (I didn't take into account the bathroom real estate, which can mimic the Geico commercial about the tiny house. And because I insist on carrying a booksack everywhere like I'm Macauley Culkin in Home Alone, the logistics of fitting a robot leg, wildly unneccessary booksack, and crutches into one was NOT awesome.)

Also falling in the silo of NOT Awesome was the beating the Yanks took pretty much the second I dragged myself to the table. My sisters were on tv though! I think they were sitting next to the dude who caught/threw back the grand slam or something. So...that was a plus. In the words of Michael Scott:

I guess this is what they call a bittersweet moment. It is bitters because I slightly destroyed a wonderful little family. But sweet, because David Wallace thought I did a good job. That's why I hate bittersweet chocolate. I don't even--What's the point of that? Why not just sweet? I mean, who...who are you helping?

One ding after another. Ugh. Turned out pushing the surgery to opening day worked out after all. I can't speak to the game too much since I think decided to stop watching unless they brought in Swisher to pitch again. And also, my tough guy "Whatever, my leg's totally fine" veneer was dissolving in the seering pain that was starting to settle in. But of course, the question once again arises:


Putting up 2 runs isn't making me feel a whole lot better, but eh, it happens. Cliff Lee=pretty dominant. I have bigger fish to fry that cold bats.

Despite the shitty outcome, Laur and Amy returned from the game in pretty high spirits, which can come with the territory of a bleacher section that once again allows alcohol. Also, they got tan and got to see the first game at Yankee Stadium ever. And bought me a souveneir book! This is So. Awesome.

They also gave me this gem:

They're getting off the subway with the rest of pinstripe-clad Manhattan, and see a girl hunched over trying desperately to weave through the mass exodus on the train platform...

"WELL, APPARENTLY ITS OPENING DAY the hell was I supposed to know that?...I don't even like baseball, so no, it's not a big deal to everyone....well, now it's like madness here and I'm trying to get through but I can't and I don't know what to do...I DON'T CARE WHAT OPENING DAY MEANS."

I hope the presumed guy she was talking to (had to be) was with his friends so he could put it on speaker. Poor girl. Sort of.

OH, and lastly, I DID get to somewhat tailgate, and by "tailgate" I mean absolutely not even close, BUT there is a cooler involved. So, per my last post regarding the plan to set up tailgating in my apartment to watch the game, I did get to bring a tailgating prop into the picture. So, there's that. Kris: 1, Unlikelihood of Tailgating Post-ACL surgery: 0.


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