I don't know

Unlike some people who are currently seeking political office, I just hate not knowing stuff.  Hate it.  

Like when the Orioles are on the West Coast and I can't hang long enough to see the end of a ballgame that might last until 1 in the yawning.  I could stay up that late, but the cats want breakfast at a quarter past five, and you know who runs this ship.

So I have to hit the sheets not knowing how the game will turn out.  Friday night, they were tied 4-4, and Saturday night, it was a scoreless tie when I gave myself over to sweet slumber.  And so on Saturday and Sunday mornings, unlike other days, the first thing I grabbed was my phone to Google the score...and both times, the O's had won, which meant the cats got an extra nuzzle on the way to breakfast.

ICYMI, here is the video of Matt Weiters slapping a homerun to win Saturday's game on his 30th birthday.

They don't do sports results

My delayed-information sports weekend had this other twist.  I was DVRing the Preakness, so we ran over to Bertucci's for our favorite Sporkie with added anchovies. The whole way over, I listened to A Prairie Home Companion on the radio, knowing that Mr Keillor would not break into his News From Lake Wobegon to give the results of the 13th at Pimlico.

I ran into the pizza pickup area and turned away from the television and told the young lady who brought me the delectables that I was deliberately not turning around to see the TV for fear of finding out who won.  She laughed and promised not to tell, and even offered to hold the door for me as I left for my car, where Peggy sat waiting in the pizza pickup parking area, mere feet from the front door.

And then a little red-haired demon youth running into the restaurant turned to his father and said, "Hey Dad!  Exaggerator won!"

I should have bet on that happening.  Not the horse. The kid.