It was a fitting climax to the summer of 1979. Robertson's I vs. Dighton Police for all the marbles. Robertson's wins game 1, 6-5. Game 2 is a must win situation. The score's tied, 9-9 in the bottom of the seventh. Boris LaBelle and Fuzzy Thurston fly out, and Robertson's I's summer hero, Mike Curran is at the plate. Boom. Good bye. Robertson's wins, 10-9.
It was as wild afterward as the first time, but this time it meant more because Robertson's proved themselves to everyone. Now, they're the summer heroes.
Everybody was there-Pitts, Ilda, Cheryl, Joe, Dina, Mike Robertson, Jack, Abe, Andy Keating, Ron Dodge, Pete, and Jane. I felt like I was at a reunion, even though I saw everybody this weekend. I wouldn't mind screwing Sandy McKee. That's just a random thought.
College doesn't seem too bad after all. I was real scared this morning, but it was OK once it got going, and even Scott Wentworth's in my English class. That's good. I hope things go OK tomorrow. I'm going to sleep by the mellow strains of Cheap Trick tonight.
So, my first day of higher learning, and I blow it off with a cursory paragraph at the end of this journal entry. Apparently, a softball game for a team I didn't play for was far more important. As I mentioned before, I was attending Southeastern Massachusetts University (SMU), which is now U Mass Dartmouth. The school was designed by someone with a Flintstones fetish, as ass off the building are made out of stone and granite, and the place is cold as hell during the winter. I personally didn't care much for the school-the classes were extremely large, and you didn't get a lot of one on one with the professors.
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