A long, tiring weekend for your chum Brendo. Lots of travel, lots of alcohol and lots (and I mean LOTS) of toasts. This wedding had more toasts than last summer's much anticipated wedding of IHOP and Bickford's. (Get it? Because they serve toast at both those places.) I'll give you more details of the Chicago nuptials of the new Mr. and Mrs. Greeber this week. And yes - they went through with it. Some of you out there owe me some money.

But first - let's talk a little baseball, shall we? As you should know, last night marked not only Opening Night of the 2005 season, but also the first time the Red Sox and Yankees have seen each other since Game 7 of the 2004 ALCS. It was the mostly highly-anticipated, emotionally-charged sports event of the year. How did I deal with the tension?

I went to bed in the 7th inning.

Now, keep in mind that I don't think I've EVER given up on a baseball game in my life. The idea that anything can happen until that very last out is what makes the game such a glorious obsession for me. So why did I give up on this, one of the biggest games of the year? There were a few factors involved:

- The previous night in Chicago, I had employed the always ill-advised "I'll just stay up and drink until my morning flight" technique. I was beyond exhausted. I was exhursted. I was exblathered. I was so tired I was making up words.

- David Wells vs. Randy Johnson: not exactly the Sox-Yankees matchup I had envisioned last fall. Both Fatty McGee and Tall-Tall Moustachio looked really weird in their team's uniform. It looked like an exhibition game between two rival carnivals or something.

- This is the important one: I think I'm free. While watching the Yankees rack up an early lead, I didn't punch a single wall, swear once or wish death/testicular mutilation to any member of the Yankees. In fact, after Derek Jeter gave a brief interview about how last year, the Sox were the better team and deserved to win, we had the following exchange in my living room:

Me: "You know - I don't even really hate Jeter anymore."
Sarah: "Me neither. He makes it pretty hard."
Joe: "Yeah, he's a class act."

What? What was happening to us? Going to bed during a Yankees-Sox series? Calling Jeter a "class act." Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?

I've got to say - I just feel better about baseball. It's a source of pleasure for me now instead of a source of anxiety and stress. I don't know how long this will last, but for now, I'm going to enjoy the sleep. Go Sox.