the trade

It's taken me a few days to recover from last week's monumental event. No, not the day I spent without children in Maine, doing whatever I wanted (shopping, eating, shopping, and a cooking class). I am referring to The Trade that sent Manny Ramirez to the Dodgers, Jason Bay to the Red Sox, and four guys I'd never heard of to the Pirates.

I was in denial as talk of an imminent trade revved up, and it was a happy place to be. No way could Manny leave. He's a volcano, I said. He erupts every once in a while, then settles back down. I hoped the Red Sox could let yet another episode of Manny being Manny slide. Um, no. At the last second, Theo pulled the trigger on the three-way. (Did you know Theo's grandfather was the co-writer of Casablanca? Wow.)

Then I spent a day whining about how crappy Jason Bay has played in Pittsburgh the last two years. And how the Pirates probably still ended up with the poopy diaper in the deal. (What can I say? I take my metaphors where I find them.)

Of course, it's now looking remarkably different than I anticipated. Oliver, who last week thought Manny and his "locks" were all that AND a bag of chips, is taking the whole thing very well. He will now tell you Manny plays for the Dodgers and Jason Bay plays for the Red Sox and all is right with his world. He asked me to take his picture of Manny off the wall this morning. Then asked to have it put up again tonight. We will probably do a few rounds of this but that's okay. It's just a cork board. 

Manny has been shooting off his mouth and looking silly. Bay has been talking with his bat and his glove. And the Pirates? Meh. Are they still playing? And me? A few days of NESN has left me completely spoilt.