Magic Sauce

I can pinpoint the moment when I decided to throw a sauce party for Game 3. It was on the way to Game 2. I was cruisin' up 280 past the Flintstone House, and I had a vision of meatballs and sausage bathed in a sea of seasoned tomato goodness. And because Sunday's game was set for a late lunch start, I texted a few friends. Saturday was a mess as far as shopping time. I walked a precinct in the morning, did some bar hopping in the afternoon, and watched old 'SC nearly upset the Smart Kids on the Farm in the evening. Luckily, the Market Safeway across the street is open 'til 11. I grabbed ingredients in a flourish and returned home to vong loads and precious sleep, though this time of year, none of us really sleeps. I woke at 7 Sunday morning and brewed a pot of coffee in my normal routine. The roomie slumbered through his alarm on our couch while I whipped up the base, mixed up some meatballs, primed them in the pan, and dumped them into a hot red bath, with the sausages following shortly thereafter. What? You want specifics? I don't think so. This is the Family Recipe, and the Family keeps it. I stepped across the street for my weekly breakfast with mum and left the pot to simmer. When I returned from a pancake sandwich, the place was filled with the most savory aroma. It had been too long, I thought to myself. I need to do this at least once a month. Before I could truly enjoy my creation, I had to spit out a blog. Then, the game began, and the friends arrived, and unfortunately in that order. Gotta say it's one of my pet peeves for guests to interrupt the flow of a game, particularly when they're coming over to watch said game. Anyway, I don't need to say much about the game, because you've already heard it all. Dirty stepped up something crazy large. He's racking up the bucks on his next contract with every disappearing fastball and every hitless inning. Brooks Conrad has my deepest and sincerest condolences. That's like Crash Davis taking a hat trick with three passed balls to lose a big league playoff game after a lifetime in the minors. Just sad, man. I almost felt bad about losing before I remembered that our offense did not give up. They did not disappear into the night. They raged against the dying of the light. And when the dust settled, Bochy was announcing MadBum would start Game 4...