it's all jayson werth's fault

...and my husband's. Probably mostly my husband's.

You have to understand the backstory. I've been married, to a guy, for twenty years. I have four sons, the oldest is almost 20. That's five -FIVE- males in my house, but nary a sports-watcher.

I've long considered myself one of the luckiest wives in America.

Not that I hate sports. As I once told a friend, I can easily get into it, but only if's what other people are doing around me. I was quite the football fan back in high school.. but mostly because the guy I was dating was too.

(And as I've stated here.. I can make just as much a fool out of myself as any other soccer mom..)

So. Hubs returns from the beach to announce that he's 'fallen off the wagon'. The Philly sports wagon, that is, which he boarded back in '81, after just too much disappointment and heartbreak. He's introduced himself as a 'recovering Eagles fan' ever since.

But, the Phillies are, once again, in the World Series, and for whatever reason, he feels compelled to get involved. I lent my presence to watching the second game with him, though I was far more interested in my computer screen, and slightly disturbed by his insistance in updating me.

Halloween night, though.. third game, and I come home from trick or treating, to find more guys in my house and of course, beer. (Oh, PS: my 'costume'? A red Phillies cap... for me, a huge disguise, but no one else seemed to get the irony...)

So I grabbed an apricot Sea Dog and planted myself on the couch.

I'm not sure at which point I got hooked, but I can tell you it was, at first, more about a fascination with the different players and their mannerisms.

Pettitte's 'glove over the face' stare, Jeter's jitters, Hamels' baby-face, Ruiz's zen-like composure, A-Rod getting hit with the ball.. twice (whoopsie!), and Werth's peculiar batting stance.

Oh.... Jayson Werth.

One wonders, when looking at him taking the bat, if maybe he really cares at all. Like he was on his way over to grab a hot dog, but then was like,' Huh? You want me to bat? Uh, how do you hold this thing? Like this...?" And Bip! Out of the park it goes.

Like, 'I'd rather be surfing, but what the hell, I'll play some ball.'*

Not that he carried that same two solo-homer success into the next two games, but still, just seeing his blondish hair waving as he ran for pop-flies on the outfield, gave me confidence that he had it all under control.

So, now I'm caught. The Phillies won (just barely) last night, which means I have one day of rest, and then at least one more night of staying up too late with heart palpitations.

But Jayson will make it all worth it. (Pun totally NOT intended...)

(*I have no idea if he surfs... just seems to fit the stereotype..)

(PPS: To be fair, Cole Hamels is another reason why I traded the world series for twitter that night...)