St. Patrick’s Day on a Friday. The last time this occurred was 2006.
I was in my first semester at San Jose State and living with three roommates. I was single and subsequently spent a lot of time on MySpace. I’m fairly certain that I got plastered at San Jose Bar and Grill. SJBG received a lot of my disposable income in 2005-2007.
Times have changed.
I left work early on Friday, plenty of time to hit a bar or two if I desired. I’m mature now, bars are no longer disirable (for the most part). I had to hustle home for T-Ball practice.
Yes. This is my life. Eat your jealous heart out.
T-Ball practice is challenging. It’s my own damn fault I didn’t sign up to be a coach. Our assigned coach doesn’t posses any baseball-related knowledge (as he readily admits) and hasn’t taken anytime to watch a YouTube video (or two) to see how to organize his practice. The topper is the coach’s older son, who happens to be the most distruptive force in the history of T-Ball practice. Come to think of it, the son is utterly facinating. I will take notes throughout the T-Ball season on his exploits and dedicate a blog post to the kid.
Cool, now I will look forward to T-Ball practice.
I got our T-Ball Star (she’s tries and hasn’t picked flowers yet, so she’s a star in my eyes) home after practice and got ready to head to our new St. Patrick’s tradition: Taking the family to my cousin’s (Joe) and his wife’s (Erica) home.
This was our third year in attendance. It’s something my wife and throughly enjoy. Joe brines USDA Prime Brisket for 10 days. Erica bakes her own bread. They also produce a fanatic broth that includes all the other St Patty’s staples. Drinks are plentiful, with plenty of Beer, Whiskey, and Wine.
It really has ruined any other way to do St Patrick’s day.
We made it home just after midnight. I woke up in the same clothes (Green St. Patrick’s Day Gigantes t-shirt) in my daughters bed. Guess the last few drinks put me over.
I dusted off the cobwebs and made pancakes for the kids (and the adults). I’m not trying to be humble, my pancakes are fucking delicious.
Yes, I keep score at T-Ball. But since everyone scores, My score is based on the number of outs a team records.
The Golden Cubs (our team) lost to the King Snakes (2-1) in the opening game of the season the previous week.
This week’s game was a tussel with the Hammer Heads.
After one hour and two complete innngs the game mercifully ended with a score of 0-0. The Golden Cubs nearly pulled out a victory, but failed to record an out in the bottom of the second.
After the game, the kids headed up to a birthday party for our friend’s youngest son.
It feels like we have a birthday party every weekend. I can’t make anymore friends (at least with kids). We have no weekend life.
At least Saturday evening allowed some adult time. I ordered the Gennady Golovkin/Danny Jacobs fight and invited a few friends (Big Ken Jones and Dante’). Joe and I made plans the night before to make ruebens with the Corned Beef leftovers. The drunken plans were not well talked through.
We both bought everything (minus the Corned Beef on my end).
Drunks should take notes.
The Ruebens were fantastic as were the fights (minus the Roman Gonzalez robbery).
During the fight card, Dante’ brought up going to the 2nd round of the NCAA tournament the next day. Hell yes, I was in.
After the fights we caught the end of the USA vs DR in the WBC.
Great game. What a catch from Adam Jones. I found this photo afterward. There is too much good stuff going on in the background. The guy holding the beer up, eyes close, and hand outreached is my favorite. Kenny noticed MadBum on the left side of the picture. Good eyes, Ken Jones.
All in all, a great Saturday.
I woke up on Sunday anticipating heading to the Golden One Center for the Oregon/Rhode Island and UCLA/Cincinnati games.
As I looked around the house (and the subsequent mess from the night before) and heard the baby crying it became pretty clear that I should not abandon my Wife to allow me to have another day of fun. I needed to stay home. I reluctantly texted Dante’ that I had to back out. I felt like a bad friend. But Dante’ can’t kick me out of the bed and banish me to the couch.
By the way, we had a new sleeper sofa delivered Sunday afternoon.
I most likely would have been forced to test its comfort if I went to the NCAA games.
Dad Life allowed me to sleep in my own bed. Which by 6am had somehow managed to contain every child and Buster.