Adrenaline junkie
I rode with my dad on the back of a 1967 Honda 90 motorcycle yesterday, and it was terrifying/amazing. We were cruising along at approximately 10mph on mostly-deserted suburban streets, but I was shaking the entire time. I trusted my dad without question; it was fear of other cars (even though we saw exactly one) that had me all worked up. Still,
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Meanwhile, I can't believe it's almost time for the Olympics again. One year away, wow. Ian needs to make the team if only for the potential for darkly comedic and awkwardly hostile interaction between him and Michael.
Baseball is kind of weird in the sense that every time I watch a game, I see something new that I didn't think was possible within the rules as I understand them. Which likely means that I don't completely understand the rules. That said, if you want a general fact-check of any potential baseball fic down the road, just let me know. I'd be happy to look it over and/or point you towards a more qualified baseball individual.
But I mean, really. Please don't let baseball itself keep you from doing what you're doing ;)
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Maybe there's some weird gravitational/astrological thing happening?
My theory is that somehow Bode Miller is to blame. And yeah, I really, really need Ian and Michael to go back to doing their hilarious pre-race posturing at each other. It is a bright spot in the world I have really missed over the last four years or so.
I will run my baseball questions by you. You're right, the actual knowledge in-story would be minimal, but if I don't feel I understand it, that makes me much less confident in the story itself.
Also, thank you for checking in on the Typewriters. I was wondering what was going on there. And prepare to get about three emails from me at once a I clear out my inbox.
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