(photo from Boson.com)
My phone rings at 7:15 this morning. I'm drying my hair. The caller ID says it's my brother. I immediately start to panic since my bro hardly ever calls me of his own volition (a function of being so damn popular, one assumes), and certainly never calls me at 7:15 in the bloody morning.
"Oh god," I think, "His car is in a ditch somewhere and he doesn't want to call Mom and Dad...again." Or, "He thinks I'll know what to do with the bodies."
"Hello?" I answer.
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm watching Sportscenter right now and Doug E. Fresh hit two doubles against the Yankees yesterday," he says.
"Okay," I reply. "They didn't mention on SportsDesk who got the hits."
"No," he shoots back, "Don't play it off like that. All you haters'll see. Dougie is the man!"
"Um, I have nothing but love for Doug."
"No!" his voice rises, "All of you saying that he's struggling. Pshaw! You'll see. He's gonna be a monster. A MONSTER!"
"Kev?" I say, "I love Doug." I pause, then, I can't resist, "Besides, Varitek was catching Schilling in a minor league game yesterday, so, you know, he wasn't available to go yard. I guess we'll settle for Dougie's doubles."
"SCREW VARITEK! DOUGIE RULES!" he yells into the phone.
I just laugh.
"I have to call Dad and tell him to stop hating on my boy," he says before hanging up.
And so begins the Kristen vs. Kevin Red Sox Catcher Bickering Discussions of 2005. In a game to save the world, who do you want behind the plate? It's so on.