Before another month flies by, I should let people know where I've been. Well, it's simple - baseball is back and I'm feeding my obsession.
Right now, I'm listening to a Portland Sea Dogs game on radio and watching the Tigers play the Indians. Earlier today, I watched the Reds and the Brewers and the Cubs at the Nationals. And in an hour, I'll be watching Oakland at Seattle.
After Spring Training games began in February, I watched 72 games - so far, I've watched nearly 80 regular season games on the MLB AtBat iPad app. In addition, I've been to 16 Sea Dogs home games and have listened to all 17 road games on radio.
But riding my Vespa 250 is still a major part of my happy retired life. Between my solo trips and rides with Mike, I've ridden just over 700 miles. And I missed 10 days on the road while the scooter waited for a new exhaust gasket to arrive from the West Coast. The Vespa sounded about a third as loud as a Harley, and that and the fact the riding could cause damage ($$$$) led me to huddle at home with my iPad, scoring app and a case of Diet Moxie (and some chips, maybe a Cheese Doodle or two, some Chinese take-out...).
Watching a baseball game is something so wonderful to me that I can't really describe it, and I won't even try. Either one understands, or one does not.
A few photos from Hadlock Field, home of the Red Sox' Double A team:
Right fielder Peter Hissey takes a pitch in the back
Super-prospect Xander Bogaerts slams a home run high and very deep.
If this superb shortstop isn't playing in Boston very soon, I'll eat my hat. (Fortunately, I keep an edible hat on hand for just such occasions)
Left fielder Tony Thomas makes a surprising catch following a long dash to the "Maine Monster", Portland's tribute to the "Green Monster" fence at Fenway Park.
But Mike and I did ride a lot, and he is the proud owner of a new Piaggio BV 250 Tourer. One ride on a perfect day reminiscent of mid-summer was a trip around Sebago Lake.
We stopped at Sebago Cove, which is next to Trickey Pond in Casco. Beyond the dock is what we call "The Big Lake."
And I'm sure this little island has a name - something typical of the pragmatic Mainer, like "Little forest next to big rock"
Mike noticed this deceased fish by the shore - note how clear and clean the water is! - and asked "What kind of fish is that?"
"Pickerel," I guessed, knowing Mike-the-city-boy wouldn't know if I was right or wrong.
"Is pickerel a good fish to eat?" he asked.
"That one isn't," I said.
We rode away, and Mike asked no more culinary questions.
Our next stop was in Naples, with a great view of the mountains of New Hampshire beyond Long Lake, so named by pragmatic Mainers because it is ... long.
Oakland leads Seattle 1-0 in the second - time to go