i'd like to thank my good friend nemo for doing such a wonderful job of explaining the emotions that a cubs fan goes through on the day of the playoff game. complete incapacitation, essentially.

like, i get nervous. all day. starting at about 11 a.m. i start thinking about pitching matchups and what i'm supposed to eat that night to keep the club in good luck (i blame myself for losses, sadly) and how great it is that they're where they are.

yesterday was just a super, super day. a whirlwind of a super day. left work just before 1, got home just before 4:30, departed with dad and the boy for wrigley about 5, and got to the ballpark just after 6. made idle, nervous small talk for 45 minutes, at which point dad headed up to his seat (he's a master finagler [like, "one who finagles"], apparently).

the game was just a blast. like randall simon, i was in disbelief. not the electricity of a tight game, but it was nice to just enjoy the game, and not have to spend the time biting my nails and things like that. there was a strange phenomenon: in person, i was considerably less nervous, perhaps because i couldn't see the closeness of the pitches or perhaps because the boy and i were goofing around. it was relaxing.

the kid next to me is going to be a tremendous cubs fan. he was about seven. when veres came in, he said 'there goes the game.' (for the record, he predicted veres allowing six runs, borowski allowing three, and guthrie allowing three more before farnsworth struck out everyone else.)

i think the two best non-pitchers in this series are miguel cabrera and pudge rodriguez. nobody else on the marlins is particularly scary.

friday's garb is my kerry wood jersey. hy-vee brand long spaghetti is the dinner of choice.