I love Christmas, but when it’s over, it’s over. There are a couple of radio stations in Boston that have been playing Christmas music since November 1st. For those of you keeping score at home, that’s the day after Halloween. One night you’re trick-or-treating, the next day you’re decking the halls? Enough.
Starting today, I don’t care about magic snowmen or a bunch of anti-red-nose, prejudiced reindeer. I don’t care about boughs of holly or roasting chestnuts or what kind of shenanigans mommy and Santa are up to. I’m tired of wondering if “they” know it’s Christmas or if the little kid gets the shoes home before his mom kicks.
The house looks like a war zone and the bank accounts are over-drawn. And watching the Celts get jobbed in LA last night was enough to make a Scrooge out of anyone. Time to start counting down the days until pitchers and catchers report. If we had a catcher, that is.
