It was a wild and wintry weekend in my neck of the woods.
I know plenty of people believe that Wisconsin is perpetually 30 degrees with a foot of snow on the ground, but the south-central portion of the state has been running a consistent 15 to 20 degrees below average this April.
I can’t complain too much about it. I see weird weather patterns going on all across the country.
We can look at the 2018 baseball season thus far as a clear indicator of that fact, as I heard on the radio this weekend that over 10% of all games thus far had been postponed due to bad weather.
Bruce Levine on WSCR 670 AM out of Chicago was ranting about how there was no excuse for games to ever need to be cancelled in Minneapolis – MLB should help pay for a retractable roof to be put over every new stadium that’s built.
At first I drove along, silently nodding my head up and down in agreement.
And then I looked around, remembered what my drive back home from Chicago had been like the night before (cars in ditches, cars facing the wrong way on the interstate, etc.) and realized that, retractable roof be damned, there was no way people were going to be driving through over 24 inches of snow to get to a ballgame.
Sunday was Jackie Robinson Day, of course. And so I watched “42” for the first time. It’s pretty odd for there to be a baseball movie I haven’t yet seen, but somehow that one had snuck past me.
Watched it with the 9- and 7-year old, with plenty of language lessons ahead of time.
Was shocked – SHOCKED – at the scene with Phillies manager Ben Chapman. Note due to the liberal use of the “n” word (which I historically knew about and expected in that scene) but because nobody warned me that Alan Tudyk played Chapman! That broke my heart a little.
On to my weekend series of choice and getting to watch Clayton Kershaw through 12 strikeouts through 7 innings of one-run pitching, leading the Los Angeles Dodgers over the Arizona Diamondbacks.
Sometimes I get to missing seeing Pedro Martinez or Randy Johnson pitch and I lately feel like I should really spend more time savoring every Kershaw curveball, because someday soon I’m going to be missing seeing that.
Gotta’ appreciate the great ones while they’re around.