5:17:53, officially

It was hot, but it was fun. I missed my goal by almost 18 minutes, but I finished. Oh well. A report will follow soon, but for now I offer my sincere thanks to all who helped me along the way.
Sweating at mile 16.
Chugging along at mile 24.5.
With Dylan in Grant Park after the race.

So Long, Shea

Thanks to some awesome tickets from Gerry and Dale (via Mayor Randy), we were able to visit Flushing's finest ballyard one last time before they demolish the old place. Cal held his ground as the only Mets supporter among our group, Cubs pitcher Rich Harden tossed a ball to Margaret, and a fantastic time was had by all.

Shea is a dump, no question about it, but I had some awesome days and nights there over the years. Here are my top 5:

-Yankees v. Oakland A's. My first memory of the place was a Yankees baseball game against the Oakland A's that was played at Shea while Yankee Stadium was being rebuilt. I remember that Walt and Paul took me there, and that Catfish Hunter was throwing for the A's. And I remember that the game was sold out by the time that we got there so we watched the game from the 7 train platform in right field.

-Saints v. Jets. Walt had Jets season tickets and took me to see the hapless Saints. Ever seen fans with bags on their heads at games? That all started with this team. They were horrible, and they beat the Jets for their only win of the season on a freezing cold December day.

-Rolling Stones October 1989. My first Stones show, and it was almost perfect. They played every song you could hope to hear and lived up to all the hype that preceded them. Oh, and Eric Clapton joined them on stage.

-Last Springsteen show at Shea. The last night of the Rising tour in October 2003. A marathon show that lasted close to 4 hours included rarely-played rockers like 'Quarter to Three', 'Seven Nights to Rock' and 'Twist and Shout.' But the real highlight was an appearance by Bob Dylan, who joined Bruce for 'Highway 61 Revisited.'

-The Clash (and The Who), October 1982. Again, I was at Shea with Walt and Paul. We stood in right-center field with close to 70,000 fans, but it felt much closer and intimate to me. The Clash bounded on stage with typical punk swagger and ripped into 'London Calling', and I haven't looked at rock and roll the same way since. The punk fans went nuts, while the Who fans shouted boos and threw things at the stage. The Clash imploded shortly after, playing only 15 more shows with the core of the band intact. I barely remember the set the Who played. It was easily one of the greatest nights of my life.

2 Weeks

Two weeks from today Katie and I depart for an excellent adventure. On Dale's birthday we will drive to the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland. Then we will go to Chicago to eat burritos in Wrigleyville, bask in the Cubs playoff glory, and run a marathon. Finally, we will again visit Cleveland on our way home for the Monday Night Football clash between the Giants and Browns.

Giants Game

Happy Birthday Margaret!

Farmers Fair, Warren County

All-Star Week

It was a great week to be a baseball fan in NYC...

The All-Star Game Fan Fest was a big hit. Here Cal and Mags square off in a 90-foot dash.
We learned pretty early that the slow-moving convoy could hear us pretty well. Margaret would grab the crest on her Cubs shirt and scream "Cubbbieeeees!" whenever Cal sounded the alarm, and almost every player on the team gave her a wave hello. This is Billy Williams.
Between innings at the Fan Fest.
Earl Weaver.
Rollie Fingers
Cal Ripken Jr.
Bob Gibson. Man, he's even intimidating in a parade.
This year's HR Derby masher, Josh Hamilton.
It was weird going to a parade where the paople on the floats were getting booed. And the crowd was not shy, particularly where the Red Sox were concerned. But Jonathan Papelbon had the perfect answer, simply raising his hand to show off the ring.
Ralph Kiner
Easily the biggest roar of the day was for Yogi Berra and Whitey Ford. Nobody else was even close.
Margaret in the Phillies car at the Fan Fest.
Cal catching fly balls at the Fan Fest.
Margaret crushed all the other little girls at the batting tee.

Cal with one of his favorite mascots, the Royal Lion

Margaret's Triptych

Latest and, uh, greatest

Outlook: ORANJE

It's been a while since blog inspiration has struck, but some scintillating soccer action has changed all that. A fortuitous confluence of events dropped a magic weekend in our laps, bringing live action and the best of the best of international action on the tube.

First up: USA v. the top team in the world...Argentina. The Americans held their own (and then some) before 78,000+ at Giants Stadium, sticking with the unbelievably skillful South Americans to hold on for a 0-0 draw despite playing a big chunk of the second half a man short thanks to a red card. (Note to Pablo: Don't throw the ball at the ref.) A world-class marathon tailgate party of shrimp, steak and kielbasi with friends from FC Dallas, MLS and the Colorado Rapids set the stage, topped only by one of the greatest scoreless games I've ever seen.

Next, the European Championships delivered a great afternoon of football, with France and Romania muddling their way through a frustrating draw before the main course: World Champs Italy against the always enthralling Dutch. A great friend, Brett (from DC via Denver and the UK), helped me watch the matches on Monday afternoon, braving a thoroughly dejected Polish crowd at Rossi's to witness an absolutely dominating performance by Holland. The match, pitting my favorite MetroStars acquaintance (Italy coach Roberto Donadoni) against my all-time fave player (Netherlands coach Marco Van Basten) was headed for classic status before the opening whistle, and never disapppinted, with the Oranje Army destroying the Azzuri, 3-0. Wesley Sneijder (sounds like Schneider!) provided the exclamation point on the day, smashing a side volley with his right foot (picture above) to cement the victory.

Kids Sing

Wrigley