Hold Me Closer Tony Danza

So it was fantasy baseball draft weekend (Nerd Alert) and boy was it exhausting. Having already purchased my roundtrip train ticket to Chicago for Saturday, I entered the weekend with good intentions; agreeing to meet my friend Joel for a few beers on Friday night but promising myself to behave and retire at a reasonable hour. Everything was going to plan until my friend began pleading with me to go downtown and continue the festivities. He skillfully argued the point that his downtown apartment was only a few blocks from the train station and that if we went out, I could just stay at his place and then walk over and catch the train in the morning. Against my better judgment I acquiesced and after a quick trip home to collect some things needed for my trip, I made my way to 5th street. Several beers and a few awkward conversations with random drunk people followed and the next thing I knew I was back at Joel’s apartment with little to show for my trouble outside of a few debit card receipts and the disconcerting knowledge that, in addition to my friend Luke, I would most likely be accompanied on the trip by a huge hangover. After expressing some concern over the likelihood of waking up in time to catch my train, Joel disappeared into an obscure linen closet, returning with an alarm clock he promised was equivalent to a tornado siren. With my resolve bolstered by this supposedly magic alarm clock, I shuffled off to the spare bedroom, intent on waking on time…

I awoke to a meek beeping noise emanating from my phone, which I had cleverly placed on the night stand next to my head. I looked around, a bit discombobulated, and then focused on the alarm clock only to see a jumble of flashing numbers that were obviously uncorrelated with the actual time of day. Apparently the only magical power this particular alarm clock possessed was the ability to lose power the moment you took your eye off it. Fortunately, a quick glance at my phone told me that it was 7:30, which left me plenty of time to shower and head over to the train station. Luke was waiting when I arrived and a short time later we were barreling up to Chicago. Intent on investigating all that Amtrak had to offer, I headed back to the snack car only to be disappointed to discover that the donut holes (by far the most appealing menu item) were all sold out. I settled for a nasty deli sandwich and then returned to my seat, spending the remainder of my trip alternating between napping and listening to an audiobook. The rest of this story is pretty boring so I will spare you the details. Basically, we had the draft and then I caught a cab back to the Union Station to catch my return train. The return train ride was equally nondescript save for the existence of an ubiquitous stench that seemed a strange mix of body odor and burnt pop tarts. I arrived back in Springfield approximately 10:00 and wasted little time heading home to enjoy a much needed good night’s rest.

Sunday brought with it my second baseball draft in as many days and I by 8:00 I was in my car heading north to Bloomington. I stopped off in Lincoln to pickup Turbo Johnny and we strolled into the Baymont Inn conference room with plenty of time to spare. Again, more boring baseball stuff happened and by 4:30 I was back at home for a relaxing evening. That about sums up the weekend...

Other occurrences of note: I saw a guy at the bar that bore an uncanny resemblance to Tony Danza. I inexplicably found this to be hilarious and took much delight in pointing this fact out to the rest of my friends. I even attempted to capture a photo of Tony Danza’s doppelganger but like other strange phenomena such as Nessie and Bigfoot, he proved too evasive to be caught on film. Just as I reached for my phone to snap a picture he disappeared into the crowd never to be seen again. Funny shit, reminded me of that Friends episode.