Irate at Irene

For the past several months, I have run today’s scheduled activities in my head every single day.

My early morning departure from Penn Station. My cab ride to Citizens Bank Park. Walking through the clubhouse to prepare for morning batting practice. Making that emotional first step on to the diamond. Most likely embarrassing myself in the batting cage. Wandering around the field, occasionally shagging a fly ball or dodging a line drive because of my lack of attention. Returning to the clubhouse. Lunch. Tour of Citizens Bank Park. Watching batting practice of the real players. Looking like a fool with all my cameras. Seeing all my fellow Campers. Getting ready to be introduced on to the field before the game. My friends and family in attendance…

Hurricane Irene has promptly disrupted all weekend plans for 20% of the U.S. population. This includes me.

No batting practice. No on-field introduction. No reunion. No game.

Come on Irene!

My selfish, inner 12-year old got over it. This is a serious storm. Millions of people will be severely effected by the weather. My little day in the sun is meaningless.

My batting practice will be rescheduled. The reunion/on-field introductions have been moved to September 15th. It’s a small price to pay for being safe.

Until then, I’ll keep playing the day in my head as I hunker down this weekend with my wife. I’ll always have this tide me over…

Best to all…

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