CHICAGO -- Cubs catcher Michael Barrett could miss the rest of the season after he was hit in the groin with a foul tip and underwent surgery.
He will miss at least two to three weeks and was scheduled to be released from Northwestern Memorial Hospital on Sunday, trainer Mark O'Neal said.
Barrett was injured by Matt Cain's foul tip in the fifth inning Saturday. He left the game after batting the next half-inning. Barrett went to the emergency room and an ultrasound showed bleeding inside his scrotum. Surgery took less than an hour, O'Neal said.
"He had enough of a bleed that it needed to be addressed surgically," O'Neal said. "Guys get hit a lot. You see guys get hit and very rarely does it get to this extreme."
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
A Good Day, A Really Good Day
I went to church this morning for the first time in months and it felt really good.
I did my 12 laps around the high school track (5K) and took approx. 5 minutes off my time.
I arrived home, satisfyingly sore and sweaty, and got a call from a friend who wanted to meet for lunch at one of my favorite local joints. Cleaned up quickly and met her for one of my last outdoor meals at Poor Phil's, enjoying a crab cake, a frou-frou drink and mild temperature, blue skies and sunshine.
Caught the last half of the Cubs-Giants game, and while we did lose and Bonds did get yet another HR, it wasn't without its charming moments: (1) The completely adorable little boy in the bleachers who caught Bonds' HR did what any right-thinking Cub fan should do whenever an opposing hitter sends one into the seats -- he threw the ball back. Even though it was Bonds and it's possible that ball might have been worth something. Other right-thinking Northsiders got together and rewarded the kid a new Cub cap. (2) D Lee came off the bench to pinch hit with the bases loaded. A grand slam would have been nice, of course, but it was still a thrill to see him take a swing and drive in a run, even if it was just a sac fly. (3) Ron Santo, This Old Cub, led the crowd in "Take Me Out to the Ballgame." I love Ronnie so; he's the continuity that connects my adult summers with my little girl summers.
And now I'm curled up, ready to watch the Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon. This year it's out of Vegas, Baby! JER-RY! JER-RY! JER-RY! (Remember, if you're going to mock the man, you must support the cause. 888-HELP-MDA.)
All this, and heaven, too.
I did my 12 laps around the high school track (5K) and took approx. 5 minutes off my time.
I arrived home, satisfyingly sore and sweaty, and got a call from a friend who wanted to meet for lunch at one of my favorite local joints. Cleaned up quickly and met her for one of my last outdoor meals at Poor Phil's, enjoying a crab cake, a frou-frou drink and mild temperature, blue skies and sunshine.
Caught the last half of the Cubs-Giants game, and while we did lose and Bonds did get yet another HR, it wasn't without its charming moments: (1) The completely adorable little boy in the bleachers who caught Bonds' HR did what any right-thinking Cub fan should do whenever an opposing hitter sends one into the seats -- he threw the ball back. Even though it was Bonds and it's possible that ball might have been worth something. Other right-thinking Northsiders got together and rewarded the kid a new Cub cap. (2) D Lee came off the bench to pinch hit with the bases loaded. A grand slam would have been nice, of course, but it was still a thrill to see him take a swing and drive in a run, even if it was just a sac fly. (3) Ron Santo, This Old Cub, led the crowd in "Take Me Out to the Ballgame." I love Ronnie so; he's the continuity that connects my adult summers with my little girl summers.
And now I'm curled up, ready to watch the Jerry Lewis MDA Telethon. This year it's out of Vegas, Baby! JER-RY! JER-RY! JER-RY! (Remember, if you're going to mock the man, you must support the cause. 888-HELP-MDA.)
All this, and heaven, too.
At least now he's easier to spot
Oh, I simply must develop a spine! My very nice, very old but very loquacious and very, very annoying neighbor, Mr. B., was seated out in front of the building for 20 minutes yesterday. Because of construction on the building next door, we can't use our back door. So Mr. B. was obstructing my only exit, and so I was trapped inside my building for 20 sunny, mild, blue-skyed minutes.
I know this is silly. But last time I was cornered by Mr. B. (the end of July), he completely bullied me into ordering Avon from him. So I chose some items I really don't need or want, and guess what -- he screwed up the order. Again. I simply cannot bear yet another conversation that goes on for pointless minutes and ends with him saying, "But I'll take care of you. Don't I always take care of you?"
No. No you don't, Mr. B. You screw up every order. You scare the crap out of me by ringing my bell at all hours, so I'll know you left yet another Avon catalog outside my door. If I keep the catalog, you come by and ask for it back. If I return the catalog with my order, you come by and tell me I'm supposed to keep it. I cannot take this anymore, Mr. B! I am being terrorized and tyranized by the oldest, sweetest and most male Avon Lady ever!
There is good news, though. He's taken to wearing a bright yellow baseball cap. I like to think of it as a bright yellow lighthouse beacon, warning me to stay away.
I know this is silly. But last time I was cornered by Mr. B. (the end of July), he completely bullied me into ordering Avon from him. So I chose some items I really don't need or want, and guess what -- he screwed up the order. Again. I simply cannot bear yet another conversation that goes on for pointless minutes and ends with him saying, "But I'll take care of you. Don't I always take care of you?"
No. No you don't, Mr. B. You screw up every order. You scare the crap out of me by ringing my bell at all hours, so I'll know you left yet another Avon catalog outside my door. If I keep the catalog, you come by and ask for it back. If I return the catalog with my order, you come by and tell me I'm supposed to keep it. I cannot take this anymore, Mr. B! I am being terrorized and tyranized by the oldest, sweetest and most male Avon Lady ever!
There is good news, though. He's taken to wearing a bright yellow baseball cap. I like to think of it as a bright yellow lighthouse beacon, warning me to stay away.