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So the Red Sox were pwning it up tonight. After their fourth consecutive homerun, my phone started to ring off the hook (naturally, since I'm the man). First it was John Friedman, with whom I celebrated the events that had just transpired. Then I saw it was my brother's number, so I picked up the phone expecting to hear joyous revelry, but it turned out he was calling randomly to find out the status of the game. He was on an airplane, about to takeoff or get off or something, and he just wanted to know the score. He called at the right time...