Last night, I decided I’d pick up a Boston Globe today. You know, since the Red Sox finally won and all. Me and every other person in New England.

I wasn’t able to roll myself out of bed as early as I’d hoped, but it was still before 9, so I thought I’d have a decent chance at scoring a copy. Ha ha ha! I first tried 7-11, where there were no papers of note remaining. Market Basket, same deal. Walgreens. By then it was 9, so I popped on over to Borders, where a small crowd had gathered outside of the doors. The woman unlocking the store sadly informed everyone that there were no papers; she speculated that either the truck had not come yet, or their shipment had been stolen from the sidewalk in front of the store.

Thwarted, I headed down to work. I considered stopping on the way at some of the gas stations situated just off Route 3, but I decided against it. Instead I took the long way around and pulled in to Barnes and Noble for a quick check. They had none, and so, disappointed, I rolled over to the intersection and waited glumly for the left arrow to turn green.

And as I waited, trying to work up enthusiasm for arriving at work, my eyes were caught by the passage of a green truck bearing the logo of the Boston Globe. I turned my head to follow its path and saw it turn into the Barnes and Noble parking lot. Then the light changed, and I had to go. But I did a U-turn at the next light and came right back up to Barnes and Noble just in time to see the truck departing the lot. Inside I found that they had just acquired 22 copies of the Globe. I plunked my 50 cents down and headed off. Success!

This will (probably) be the last baseball related post for a while, since other things loom in the next few days (like the election!).

The Red Sox only ever made it to the World Series once before in my lifetime — the 1986 Series, origin of the endless Buckner jokes. I turned 10 that year, and something of the potential of that team had seized our household from the very start of the year. I remember having a preview poster and game schedule of the team tacked to my door, cut out of the Herald, probably. J1 and I collected piles and piles of baseball cards that year. In April, while we were at Disney World, Roger Clemens pitched his first 20K game — I remember seeing it in the paper and on the news report in the morning before we went to the park. I remember watching the ALCS against the Angels, when Dave Henderson hit a home run to win it — he jumped SO high in his excitement. And, of course, the World Series against the evil Mets, featuring a spectacular meltdown on the part of the Red Sox.

J2, of course, remembers none of this, having been born a week AFTER the meltdown.