World Series of Writing

I began watching the World Series in Guatemala (listening to Spanish announcers), but have taken up the cause again here in the States.  I do, however, turn the sound off so I don't have to listen to Joe Buck and Tim McCarver.  Not that I can't stand these guys or don't think they do an excellent job, it's just that I have other work to do.

During the past three games, for example, I've completed a great deal of writing, met some deadlines, even written into the post-game show.  Game three I wrote some two thousand words and still followed the outcome (who can't . . . seeing as the game of baseball moves at a snail's pace and replays throughout the game are abundant)?  Game four: same result.  And last night, during game five, I wrote another two thousand words, went to bed at 12:30 a.m., and am back at it this morning.

All in all, I've been more productive than the St. Louis bullpen . . . which leads me to thinking . . . why can't those guys sitting around in the dugout and the bullpen do other chores instead of lounging?  Don't the stadiums have restrooms that need to be cleaned, don't those Gatorade cups needs to be swept up off the floor?  How about some Ajax on those brown tobacco stains on the bleachers?  Can't these guys multi-task?

Oh, well. 

I'm not complaining.  Six thousand words in three nights is work I'll have to live with.  That's a decent wage.  And if this thing goes to seven games it looks like I'll end up with ten thousand words or more during the World Series . . . without hearing a word of Joe Buck. 

It's amazing what can be accomplished between innings.