Monday, June 13, 2011
The last time that I spoke to you about softball, I said that I was expecting to catch four games in four days. Since the weather forecast called for temps in the high 90's, I expected to get in some good work. I wanted to sweat a lot and attain some semblance of decent shape, something which I haven't really been able to do this year because of multiple rain-outs and - when games did get played - temps in the 40's, from which the most exercise I got was shivering.
As with many things in life we wish for (fame, fortune, pastrami sandwiches that not only make you lose weight but fill in your bald spot) this did not happen. Three of the four games were rained out. And the one that actually got played resulted in a 19 - 18 loss wherein I squatted in mud for two hours. Bleh.
(My day was not as bad as my shortstop's. He not only had his car towed earlier in the afternoon, which resulted in his being 45 minutes late for the game, but he also ended up absolutely drenched in mud when he dove for a ball and did a face plant into a lake behind second base. God bless you, TK. That was truly giving it up for the team.)
I've got four more games scheduled in the next seven days. There will probably be a plague of locusts.
(For those of you who detest softball talk, that's the end of it. Here comes the other stuff.)
There is one saving grace when softball is rained out on a Sunday morning. That is going to Donohue's for breakfast. I'll explain.
MY WIFE is a wonderful woman.
(Duh. If she hadn't been one, I certainly wouldn't have married her.)
Anyway, when she sees my pitiful puss moping around the house on a Sunday morning because it's raining out and I can't play ball, she always suggests that we go to Donohue's for breakfast. That helps immensely. The one thing I like almost as much as playing ball is eating.
Donohue's is in Watertown on Bigelow Avenue, just a short drive (or decent walk) from our home. Aside from it being a great place to forget about the disappointment of being rained out, it's my go-to place for sporting events on TV channels we don't receive in our house. For instance, when game seven of the Bruins - Lightning series was on Versus (which we don't get) MY WIFE and I went to Donohue's, had a swell dinner of turkey tips and vegetables (enough for four meals, actually, as we both took home enough to have another feed), then watched an exciting game on a big screen TV in the midst of an involved and friendly crowd. Doesn't get much better than that, unless you have some good drinks with it and we did. I'll also go there to watch Boston College football one or two Saturdays during their season and maybe enjoy the occasional Celtics game (when we don't have tickets and I feel like being amidst the buzz of other fans.)
The food is top-notch for a bar, there are huge TVs everywhere, the selection of beer is wide and satisfying, and the prices are extremely reasonable.
The owner is actually an Irishman, too (or, at least, an American of Irish descent.) This isn't some damn Fitzi McLeprechaun's chain joint, about as Irish as matzoh and chitlins. This is the real thing - a neighborhood pub, serving good food and drink at decent prices, a fun place to be. J. D. Donohue is the proprietor and a nice guy, friendly, and likely to chat you up at your table. He stopped by yesterday and we discussed his addition of Goose Island to the tap (a craft beer I 'discovered' on our vacation in Chicago, and which I was quite surprised to find in a Watertown pub. Seems J. D. has some pull, so he was able to get it into his place some months before it was to become widely available in the Northeast.)
The best bargain among many, and why this place is almost enough to make me glad when it rains, is the Full Irish Breakfast, served Saturday and Sunday. You get two sausages, a huge slab of Irish bacon, mounds of home fried potatoes, magnificent toasted Irish soda bread, both white pudding and black pudding, beans, fried tomatoes, and 2 eggs prepared any way you wish. The price is an extremely reasonable $11.99. Believe me, I can put some food away, but I couldn't finish the Full Irish yesterday. I came close, but the plate is so loaded...
(You know, this has to have some of you thinking that I was paid off to write this. Heck, it would make me think that if I was reading it somewhere else. Nope. Just felt like writing it up because it's a great place and it was just what I needed yesterday morning. In the spirit of full disclosure, though, J. D. did once treat us to a breakfast after reading a similar review on this blog a couple of years back. I don't, however, have expectations concerning another comp in the future. Just thought I'd make that clear.)
The most amazing thing about this breakfast is that you can walk in and grab a seat on Sunday morning with absolutely no wait whatsoever. It always boggles my mind to see the empty tables in Donohue's on a Sunday morning. Just up the street, there are scads of hipsters waiting to get into a couple of other places that I don't consider near as much of a bargain as Donohue's. Nothing against the other diners and whatnot. I've eaten at those places, too, and not a thing wrong with them. None of them, however, has as tasty an option as the Full Irish, and you don't have to stand in line 20 minutes in the rain before getting your hot and satisfying breakfast. I don't get it. Donohue's is just down the street. Why wait when you don't have to do so?
If you, too, find yourself rained out some Sunday morning in the Boston area, come on over to Watertown and get a Full Irish at Donohue's. Chances are you might see me and MY WIFE. As a matter of fact, chances are better that you'll see us than that we'll see you, because that's what the funny story I promised hinges upon.
We had finished our breakfasts and MY WIFE wished to go to the ladies. She asked me to watch her pocketbook (which she does even if there's no one else within a mile of it, but that's OK. I often ask her to carry stuff in it, so it's only fair I watch it when she's away.) She got up and headed for the restroom. Except she headed straight for the mens room, not the ladies.
I said, "WIFE!"
(No, not really. I used her actual name, of course. I might have more readily gotten her attention had I said it this way, though.)
She didn't hear me. I said it more loudly.
She was oblivious, and walked right into the mens room.
I started to get up to go get her, but J. D. was standing already so he said he'd do so. Just as he reached the door, MY WIFE came out with a sheepish look and a fair amount of blushing.
(Luckily, there had been no one else in there. Had it been a Friday night, with the joint hopping...)
I said, "What did you think when you got in there? 'Huh! When did they put those in here?'"
J. D. and the waitresses laughed, and MY WIFE blushed more before going into the correct room for what she needed to do.
So, as I say, you might see us (or hear us) before we see or hear you. Well, at least before MY WIFE hears or sees you. Then again, you can never be sure just exactly where she might meet you, should you be there, so be prepared.
Soon, with more better stuff.