I forgot to write a blog post this weekend, and by the time I realized it, I was riding shotgun on my way to Maplewood, New Jersey for an annual fantasy baseball draft party. Now it is 8:25 p.m., and I am thoroughly exhausted and in no condition to coherently write anything longer than a paragraph. I did not go to sleep until four in the morning (which, surprisingly, was two hours earlier than last year), and I came home in the afternoon to a pregnant wife and a two-and-a-half-year-old with a new favorite game he simply calls "tackle." Also, I drafted Troy Tulowitzki in the first round for the second year in a row, and I'm not feeling good about it. Overall, it's a night a crossword puzzle, a 30 for 30 documentary, and an early bedtime.
Until next time...
[Update: "Overall, it's a night a crossword puzzle, a 30 for 30 documentary, and an early bedtime." Apparently a paragraph of coherent writing was overly optimistic.]
[Update: "Overall, it's a night a crossword puzzle, a 30 for 30 documentary, and an early bedtime." Apparently a paragraph of coherent writing was overly optimistic.]
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