The High Holy Days 2009

It's official! Spring is on its way! Here is official run down for the 2009 High Holy Days.

February 6 - Truck Day
February 12 - Pitchers and catchers report
February 16 - Position players report
February 18 - Full squad workouts begin
February 25 - First Red Sox Spring Training game
March 1 - First day of spring (unofficial)
March 14 - Morris County St. Patrick's Day Parade
March 16 - Matthew's birthday
March 17 - St. Patrick's Day
March 20 - First day of spring (official)
April 5 - 2009 Major League Baseball Opening Day
April 6 - Red Sox Home Opener

Athbhliain faoi Mhaise Duit ("Happy New Year" in Irish)

It's New Year's Day
Just like the day before
Same old skies of grey
Same empty bottles on the floor
Another year gone by
And I'm thinking once again
How can I take this losing hand
And somehow win

Just give me one good year
To get my feet back on the ground
I've been chasing grace
But grace ain't so easily found
One bad hand can devil a man
Chase him and carry him down
I gotta get out of here
Just give me one good year

I'm burning oil
Engine's running rough
I drive from job to job
But it's never enough
I can't find the will
To just up and get away
Some kind of chains holding me down
To make me stay.

Just give me one good year.....

It's a bitter wind
In your face every day
It's the little sins
That wear your soul away
When you start giving in
Where do the promises all go
Will your darkest hour
Write a blank check on your soul

Just give me one good year
To get my feet back on the ground
I've been chasing grace
But grace ain't so easily found
One bad hand can devil a man
A good one can turn him around
I gotta get out of here
Just give me one good year
I gotta get out of here
Just give me one good year

Slaid Cleaves - "One Good Year"

Merry Christmas 2008

I'm a little late doing this - two days to be exact. But I have an excuse...and a written note from my Mom, too!We tried something a little different at the Monaghan household this year - we started cleaning the house for Christmas before Thanksgiving. OK, so that's not exactly how it happened. Let me 'splain, Lucy.

Over the past couple of years we've had not one, not two, but three different episodes of the Dreaded Flooded Basement. I can't tell you how much memorabilia from my WNEW-FM days was completely destroyed in the process. The most recent episode happened in the fall. I woke up on a Sunday morning and went down into the basement/family room to check something before coming into the radio station to do All Mixed Up. As I moved around, I noticed that my socks were starting to get wet. And that's when I realized that water was coming out of the laundry room, and up through the French drain, through the rug and into everything that was on the floor.

I ran upstairs and told my wife what was happening. The two of us spent the better part of a half hour trying to pull buckets of water out of the sump in an attempt to get the water flow under control. With both of us having to go to work later that day, we ended up having my sister-in-law come down to keep an eye on things and empty the sump when needed. I borrowed a pump from my friend Bob and the Monaghans spent the next couple of days turning it on every couple of hours in an effort to make sure that no more water came in. No one was spared; even my Mom and our two younger children were put on pump duty. So what does this have to do with Christmas? Hang on.

The damage was extensive. All the carpeting downstairs was destroyed. Everything that was in the basement had to be moved upstairs. The house looked as if a bomb had gone off. In the process of replacing the basement rug, my wife and I decided that maybe we could afford to get new carpeting in the living room, too. After 12 years, three kids, and a dog it was time. I mean, Dad IS working two jobs, right? Maybe we could actually swing this financially. But if we were going to put new carpet in the living room, it meant that the living room also needed to be painted. So for three consecutive weekends, I had "help" from my wife's parents. In the interest of One Big Happy Family, let's just leave it at that. We made the appointment to have carpeting installed in both rooms and moved the living room furniture into the dining room. The house now looked as if a second bomb had gone off. What does this have to do with Christmas? I'm getting there.

To top it off, Daughter #1 had asked a few weeks earlier if, instead of driving into the city to have Thanksgiving with my sister and her husband as we had done for the past couple of years, we could have everyone come over to our house. You know, freshman year of college and all; she wanted to really feel as if she was home. That meant that all the painting and the carpet installation and moving of furniture and whatever had to be done by Thanksgiving Eve. The race was on.

Somehow we managed to get it done. All of it. The house (or at least the family room/basement and first floor) was done. And it was clean. Spotless. And with Thanksgiving a little later this year it meant that if we could keep an eye on things, we might actually be able to not have to scramble to get the house ready for Christmas.

For three and a half weeks my wife was positively relentless. If something was left on the kitchen counter for more than three minutes it disappeared. Our two little ones felt as if their parents had turned into Marine drill instructors. But the bottom line was that on the morning of December 24th, outside of wrapping some presents and making sure that we got the kids to church on time to sing at 4 PM Mass, we had very little to do.

Christmas Eve meant the Invasion Of the In-Laws. Santa made his phone call from somewhere over the South Atlantic. The kids were bouncing off the walls. In other words, business as usual around the Monaghan house.

2008 has been a strange year. The economy is an absolute disaster. We watched a historic presidential primary campaign turn into an even bigger historical election. As a country we're still mired in a war we can't seem to find an end-game to. But we're together. As dysfunctional as we all are sometimes, we're still together. Amid the chaos of flooded basements, and rugs, and painting, and the usual holiday stress, and whatever else gets thrown in our midst, we're still together. And THAT'S the point. THAT'S what this has to do with Christmas.

Christmas Day, I was nodding off on the couch in my in-laws' living room. Every so often I would wake up to hear someone laughing as stories about Christmases Past were being told. Funny, but in none of those stories were any presents mentioned. It was always about the idea of a family being together, working together, just trying to get through the day to day nonsense that attempts to drag us down. Think about that First Christmas - a young couple struggling against pretty heavy odds along with a rather unexpected baby, but together.

I hope you've been able to spend these past few days together with people you care about...together with people who care back.

Merry Christmas.

Take this silver lining
Keep it in your own sweet head
Shine it when the night is burning red
Shine it in the twilight
Shine it on the cold cold ground
Shine it till these walls come
Tumbling down

David Gray

Faith Rewarded. Again.

Game Five of the 2008 American League Championship Series. With the Red Sox having lost 3 in a row and trailing 3 games to 1 to a white-hot Rays team, there could be no margin for error.

I watched the first inning at my 2nd job; the game hardly started the way I figured with Dice-K giving up a 2-run HR before an out had even been recorded. On the way home I put on WTIC out of Connecticut, opting to listen to the game through the static with the regular Red Sox announcing crew of Joe Castiglione and Dale Arnold instead of putting up with the painful experience of listening to the ESPN radio feed with Jon Miller and Joe Morgan. More TB home runs; more Red Sox runners left on base. F-bombs were flying through the car at lightning speed.

As I pulled into my neighborhood at 9:30 PM, my oldest daughter called me from her college dorm on my cell phone. "Dad, this is disgusting. What's happening here?" We talked of the fun we'd had on a couple of Fenway road trips we'd taken from NJ this year, lamented some key injuries to important players, and just figured we'd start counting the days until pitchers and catchers. When I walked in the door, my wife had turned the game off in the living room. The look of disgust on her face echoed my own sentiments. Our 7-year old son came downstairs when he heard me come in and asked me what the score was. "Well, maybe we'll get them in the next game," he offered, until I reminded him that this would likely be Tampa Bay's 4th win. I sent him back off to bed with a Manny-like "there's always next year" and headed down to the family room to check in on the game thread on the SoSH website and see what had developed. That was right about the time that Red Sox relief pitcher Manny Delcarmen left and closer Jonathan Papelbon came in. Like some others, I turned the game off when it got to 7-0. I figured that I wake up for job #1 at 4 AM; it's probably best to not torture myself any longer, so I went upstairs, kissed my wife goodnight, and headed to bed.

"Jim...I don't want to wake you...but I don't think you should miss this."

My wife was gently shaking my shoulder and had this edge of excitement to her voice. Big Papi had already hit his 3-run shot and Papelbon had shut the door in the 8th. J.D. Drew was up. I struggled to focus on the TV in the bedroom just as Drew's shot left his bat. I bolted upright and threw my arms in the air. Somehow I managed to blurt out, "DON'T LET US WIN ONE!" - echoes of Kevin Millar from the 2004 ALCS. Our 9-year old daughter heard the commotion and poked her head out her door. "Get in here!" I exclaimed. My wife mentioned something about it being late and a school night and I just gave her that look that said, "You're kidding, right?"

When Mark Kotsay doubled off the glove of Tampa center fielder B.J. Upton with two out in the bottom of the 8th inning, the phone rang. It was our oldest daughter calling from school. She and her roommate were making so much noise as Fenway was becoming unglued (to steal a phrase from Francona) that one of her dorm RA's came in to see what the problem was. That RA and another ended up watching the game with the two of them. So with my 9-year old talking on the phone with her big sister while wrapped in my arms in bed, and my wife clutching my shoulder, the four of us hung on for dear life during Coco's AB.

By the time the game ended with J.D.'s line drive, we were all screaming - my daughter in her dorm and the three of us in my bedroom...while our 7-year old somehow slept through the entire thing.

We flipped back and forth between ESPN and the TBS postgame show, not entirely believing what we had seen. I'm still not entirely sure that what I saw really happened.

Faith Rewarded.

Again.

John Farrell - Take A Look At This!

If Clay Buchholz and Manny Delcarmen had this kind of form, the Red Sox pitching might be in MUCH better shape! By the way, he's not even 7 and a half yet!

Vacation!?!?!

So let's see if I have the head count correct.

Five adults, four teenagers, two smaller children, and a kennel's worth of dogs. All packed into one house for the better part of a week.

What have I gotten myself into?

Congratulations, Daughter #1!