There's no surfing in Cleveland

One of the definitions of pain is my habit of following the Cleveland Browns.  I haven't lived in Cleveland in ten years, but I have felt the frustration of the local team being chronically bad.  Since I now live in Tempe, Arizona, I think bad is a relative term.

I was hoping the Tribe could nail a wildcard spot but it wasn't meant to be.  Reducing payrolls is a sure fire path to mediocrity and the Indians are proving it.  Still, there were some bright spots and moments.

The back of my neck is sunburned from stopping at a farmer's market yesterday.  I felt bad for the dogs panting in the heat.  (Ok, so maybe it was only in the high 80s).  So much for the Phoenix monsoon.