Well things didn't go as I'd hoped for the Sox opener (Pedro and the boys lost 7-2 against Baltimore), but at least the UConn women won against Minnesota and are on their way to the NCAA finals against Tennessee tomorrow night. Go Huskies! Watching the women play last night was amazing, and the improvement in the women's game even in the past five years is really something. Great ball movement, fakes, no-look passes — it's a pleasure to watch.

Well it was close, but the Pats did it again, and I was happy to cheer when Vinatieri's kick went right down the middle and put the Pats in the lead (and gave them the win). It was a good day all around for things football: earlier in the morning, David and I ran the Gridiron 5K in Central Park. Here's us at the start and more importantly, here were are nearing the end. You can even see my Tom Brady jersey! It was a very slow one for us, the bitter cold had prevented us from doing much training, and the course was a lot uphill. Also David had moved the day before, so was sore from that. What do all those excuses mean? 11:05 per mile. A slow one for sure, but we'll pick up speed again. I hope.

For my birthday this year, I asked my parents for a Polar S120 heart rate monitor, but what with being sick and the frigid and horrible weather, I hadn't had a chance to try it out. Until this afternoon at 3 PM, when I strapped it on to monitor my heart rate while I watched the New England Patriots play the Indianapolis Colts for the AFC Championship, and a trip to the Super Bowl.

Below you can see my heart rate during the course of the game, mapped against the score of each team and some key plays. Throughout the course of the game, I wrote down my data, the time, and what was happening.

Average heart rate during game: 87 bpm

Max heart rate during game: 125 bpm

Average heart rate during the day: ~68 bpm

I didn't even see that max rate, it was just told to me by the watch after the game. It must have happened at the beginning. Anyway, my heart's very erratic when I watch the Pats, but probably not as erratic as when I was watching the Red Sox last fall. Next up? Hopefully just tracking my progress during a run along the Hudson River.

Fellow NY resident — but like me, of solid New England stock — Lockhart Steele has a great post on the Red Sox, baseball, and The Business of Emotion. Talking about the likely trades of Sox Manny Ramierez and Nomar Garciaparra, Lock asks, "is the core of sports fandom rooting for favorite players, or the team?"

For my own part, it's team first. I'll always be a Sox fan. When one of my teams trades a player I'm not crazy about (e.g. Celtics unloading lazy Antoine Walker to the Mavs), I'm extra pleased with the team. And I have to say, I wouldn't be too sad to see Ramierez traded for A-Rod. But Nomar? Oy, now that's a tough one, because I really like Nomar. Then my thinking gets all player-centric and I wonder, couldn't he just play third instead?

After a weekend of mourning I've decided I'm leaving my Red Sox logo up for a while longer, just to show my continued support of the best team in baseball (alas possessing baseball's worst manager). This weekend I baked my Cowboy Up cookies and thought of the game, and the team, and how well they played, and decided I still love them all (players, that is). Here's to 2004, boys!

The front page of the Boston Globe says it all: Heartbreak Again. It was so close, they played so well, and then you just knew. As Pedro Martinez took the mound in the 8th, everyone at the Riviera (the NYC Red Sox bar where I watched the game) looked a little anxious. Shouldn't he come out? we all wondered. And then the Yankees' bats woke up. Shouldn't Pedro be taken out? we said to each other, huddled in front of the TV, the raucous crowd now silent. More hits, people pleading at the TV, For God's sake, take him out!! until the Red Sox were no longer wining, and the game was tied. And just like that it had fallen apart, again. Boone's 11th inning home run sealed the pennant for the Yanks, and silently, numbly, we exchanged good byes, murmured hopes for next year, next year, and I walked home alone.

OK Sox fans, in order to show your support, here's what you've got to do: bake a batch of Red Sox Cowboy Up Cookies! "Cowboy up!" has been the Sox rallying cry this season. It's a rodeo expression, "to 'cowboy up' means to suck it up in times of adversity," according to this Boston Globe article about the team's new tradition. So in their honor, I've posted a recipe for yummy cowboy cookies — my favorite kind of cookie — so that we can suck it up too, suck up cookies that is.

I simply could not watch, especially after the Jackson/Damon collision. By the 9th inning, I was up, pacing from the living room, down the hall into the kitchen, and back. Again I used my filtering technique: hands in front of face, peering between fingers at the TV, eyes squinted so actual sight impaired by eyelashes. And I was even tempted to plug my ears, but I listened. I listened as Lowe pitched the third strike to Melhuse. 2 outs. "Just one more out, just one more out" I chanted to myself.

It's moments like these — being a Red Sox fan — that I can just see it all fall apart. Oakland's tying run is on third, their series-wining run on second. It could be over just like that. So I paced some more, back into the kitchen. My heart was pounding, and fast. There's no way to watch something like this: bottom of the 9th, bases loaded, two outs, 1-2 count. I just stood in front of my TV, hands before eyes, filtering again, watching but not watching. And then a called strike three on Long! Lowe erupts! The Sox erupt! I breathe again. Thank God for TiVo. I rewind a bit, sit back down, and watch the end of the 9th in peace.

Well, for a weekend so full of losing potential, things didn't turn out all that badly for me and mine: Sunday's ended with a solid 6 for 7 performance by my teams. Alas, the US Women aren't going to repeat their World Cup title, which bums me out, but Nebraska won, the Pats won, the Bills won, and another team — whose name I cannot mention lest I jinx — won two important games. I suffered many near heart attacks (Jason: "I think your life-expectancy decreased by about ten years watching these games") but am ready for one more big game tomorrow night. (Of course, I don't need to tell you I watched a large portion of the bottom of today's 8th inning with my eyes closed, and filtered through my fingers, like a horror movie.) I am counting the minutes 'till 8:05 EDT…

There's a new sports weblog on the block called The Sports Frog, offering in-depth coverage of all sorts of sports stuff. Recent posts reflect strong interests in football, basketball, and gambling. But these guys know their stuff and have lots to say, always a good combination for a weblog. And as you know, I love a good vertically-focused blog. One disclaimer: my cousin is one of the contributors, but don't think that biases my review. He only posts about the gambling, and I don't have any idea what he's talking about.