i work hard to relax

Following yesterday’s thrilling tennis match between myself, Dave V., Sam P., and Aaron P., I ran to the car to see if there was anything left of the Padre game to catch on the radio.

You see, before the idea of a tennis game came up, I had planned on setting up my newly purchased hammock out on the back patio and listening to the baseball game on the radio. But the fluorescent fuzzy ball took precedence. I made it to the car, turned on the radio and heard…crowd noise! The game wasn’t over yet! I looked at the clock: 5:05pm. The game had been going for 4 hours?!

“And here we are in the top of the 14th inning. Dodgers and Padres tied at 4 apiece.” What luck! The Padres had managed to makeup for a 3 run deficit and tied it up. I rushed home to make my ideal afternoon work.

I’m not a huge baseball fan, but there are certain parts about it that are fairly romantic to me. Last year, I visited my sister in Boston where I got hooked on the romantic idea of baseball over the radio. We sat on her back porch, grilled hot dogs, and listened to the Red Sox on a small portable radio. There was something “old-time” about the situation…very classic, and very cool.

So with baseball season coming up, I purchased a small portable radio with a 4 foot antenna and determined that I would spend my summer on the back patio with the BBQ and the Padres.

I managed to find a parking spot on our ever-crowded street and rushed into the house at the bottom of the 15th. I grabbed my huge bag of climbing gear and headed outside. My wife setup the radio just inside the screen door, and I began to pray for more innings.

Unfortunately, I had over-estimated the natural landscaping of our HOA-controlled “backyard.” True, there was one tree to hang the hammock from, but nothing else on the other side. My wife sat there listening to the radio while I paced the tile patio thinking of some way to anchor the other end of the hammock.

“Strike 3! We go to the top of the 16th!” The Padres were gracious enough to not win the game outright and give me another 1/2 inning to get my act together. And then it came to me: I didn’t need something strong and anchored into the ground — just something high mixed with something heavy! I ran through the house, through the front door, and began grabbing the large 5-gallon Sparklett’s bottles that sat on our porch. I threw open my climbing bag and began taking out the necessary pieces of webbing I would need.

It was a lot of work, but I got my relaxin’ on. Sure, the Padres lost, but that last inning of disappointment was worth it. I swung back and forth, occasionally bumping into the BBQ, and listening to my wife chuckle and wonder: “Do you think the HOA will approve this?”