So He Ate The Lasagna.

Top of the 6th Inning, season on the line, Mets up, game tied, hugely important batter walking to the plate...and the other five people are ready to go out to dinner. The Great Plotnik, who just turned on the game in the living room of the Hanford House Bed and Breakfast in Sutter's Creek, CA, REALLY REALLY REALLY does not want to go out to dinner. He knows if he gets up from this sofa, bad things are going to happen. It's a given. Shrines cannot help. The fate of millions of Plotzer fans are in Plotnik's hands.

But...these are really nice people and they've invited Duck and Plot for a wonderful weekend and the dinner reservation is waiting and, well...there's nothing that can be done. Plot gets up, takes one last look at the TV, and walks out of the TV room. Before the six friends have gone thirty feet there are three lucky bloop singles from the Mets and the baseball season is over.

There's a TV in the restaurant but they're watching Cal Bear football, for God's sake.

Dinner was fine, but Plotnik knew what he'd done.

But he also knows he's a grown-up and friendship is a lot more important than a baseball game. So, it must be said that though he really does feel foolish now for running out on his team, he also has a deep suspicion the Plotzers were going to lose tonight, whether Plottie ate lasagna or didn't eat lasagna.

So he ate the lasagna.

Pitchers report in February, Spring Training starts in March, season starts in April, dang it all anyway.