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"I know, Beth, it's wild. Tomorrow I am going to be in Canada!"
We were about to start a 13-game road trip. Three in Montreal. Three in Atlanta. Three in Houston. Four in San Francisco.
Without a single day off.
"I'll make at least two starts on this trip. Probably in Atlanta and San Francisco. But I will for sure be in Houston in a week."
We talked a bit about everything going on.
Beth then lost her cool when I told her about the Skip Smith article.
"@#%^#@#$!"
"Beth."
"@#&%#%!"
"Beth!"
"@#$%&@#$%@#$%&!"
"BETH! Language!"
"I want to rip his testicle out and feed them to him through a straw."
Ew....
"Baby, it's okay. He's just an attention seeker. Coach said to just stay clean and he won't ever be able to say I told you so."
"You're damn right he won't. Because if he is ever able to say I told you so, we will be over so fast..."
"In that case, Skip Smith will never be right!"
"I need..." Her voice cracked. "I need this week to hurry up. This is really hard."
I didn't say anything for a second. Then I heard a song in the background.
"What is that song?"
"Set me free why don't you babe," Beth sang. "Because you don't really love me. You just keep me hanging on."
I cringed. "I'm not trying to insult your singing, baby, but that's awful!"
I heard her giggle.
"Whatever happened to great music like Elvira!"
"Bobby, don't...."
"Giddy up a oom papa oom papa mow mow!" I sang in as bad a deep voice as I could muster.
"Oh God, I'm hanging up."
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