it's cold, it's snowy, it's windy. this type of weather is what people expect for the super bowl, not game three of the alcs. but it's michigan, and you never can be too sure.
i'm rushing home today after work, meeting b and rk at home, and we'll all pile onto our bed (because the tv is in the bedroom - it's a small apartment, what can i say?) with a big bowl of popcorn and watch kenny rogers ... i can't say it. mitch albom can say it. but i can't. i can't tell you that i've been looking at the prices of flights to detroit, next weekend ... to watch a game (even if from a bar downtown) that may or may not happen ... i can't say it not only because i'm not sure if i'd laugh or cry while saying it, but also because i can't jinx it for b. he seemed almost depressed after game four against the yankees, because i think he was afraid they'd break his heart, this team. the pain of losing, the further we get into november, will i think increase as well.
that's why i can't say it. i won't tell you what i'm thinking. (i can't.)
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