March and other madness

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Last week felt a little collegiate to me, for a couple of reasons. For one thing, nothing says college like trying to remedy months of slacking off by frantically cramming for a test, or, in this case, two: my NCAA tourney pool and our fantasy baseball draft. I subjected my brain to dangerous levels of ESPN, player and team rankings, and statistical analysis until finally I had spit up stats all over my laptop during Sunday's draft. (Yeck, that sounds wicked dirty!)

Also, in a somewhat related incident, I drank too much Miller Lite (and had a decidedly uncollegiate hangover Saturday. What gives, body? Oh yeah, you're 32). Which brings us to the highlight of the week: taking a few swings in the visitor batting cages underneath Fenway Park. 

Say what? Yeah, for real! They let you. It sounds like a joke, doesn't it? But I assure you, it's real. I guess it's more difficult to get in there during the baseball season, but if you book a party at Game On in advance (and spend a bunch of money), you can get private access to the cages for you and yours. 

I hadn't swung away in a batting cage since at least high school. It was awesome. Well, hitting the soft-pitch meatballs was awesome. Later on, they ratcheted it up to 90 mph. That wasn't as fun. Unless you like feeling weak, and feeble — then it might be way up your alley! 


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