What A Drag, After All

  I thought this would be a fun, exciting weekend to watch sports. Was I ever wrong. 

I should have known on Thursday when I was at the gym doing my upper body work, and it was more than tad difficult. Or on Friday, when my stationary bicycle day, which is usually my easiest, wasn’t. And that was with the newly installed A/C unit making the room most tolerable. 

Nor was I pleased when I went to do yard work on a brilliant Friday afternoon with a tolerable sun. Carrying a ladder to trim a tree became a chore. The two hours outdoors was daunting. 

Did this deter me? Not one bit. Back at the gym for legs day and it was tough. Then again, it is always the toughest day of my exercise week. 

I shrugged this off, even as my legs were a little sorer than usual on Saturday night and when I awoke on Sunday morning. Yet I was full steam ahead, doing the food shopping and helping my wife get ready for our ride to Highland Park, where we would park the car and head with our friends to SHI Stadium. 

Getting to Highland Park and over to the yellow lot near the stadium was easy. Surprisingly so, since it was a hot day, with temperatures in the 90’s and along with a cloudless sky. I figured day tripping sun worshippers would pack the Garden State Parkway, and the home opener for Rutgers was predicted to be a sellout. Insubstantial traffic in both places. 

We downed our pre-game tailgate meal (it was Wawa hoagies) and bantered as we always do. Entering the stadium about 40 minutes before kickoff was uneventful. 

Then we sat down. And that unmerciful sun beat down upon us. I thought I had hydrated well that morning at home, on the drive down and while eating. I also put on a copious amount of sun screen and wore a New Jersey Devils 1995-96 championship hat. All to no avail.

The first quarter was action-packed yet took 45 minutes. The sun was creeping towards my right shoulder, which was closest to the overhang of the upper deck. Finally, early in the second quarter, my legs and body ached horribly. I felt terrible. But of course, I didn’t want to leave—tethered to sports as I am. 

I left my seat and stretched my legs. It helped a little. Then I went searching for water. The lines were enormous—shorter across the field, but still in the sun. I returned with drinks for everyone and downed most of mine early into the third quarter. 

My body was failing me even more. The pain increased. Yet I wanted to gut it out for everyone. I was uncertain that the outcome of the game had been determined (it was), so I soldiered on into the final quarter. 

When play wasn’t producing anything exciting, I waved the white flag. I must have looked dreadful, because that was the way I felt. I could have sprinted to where the car was parked just to get into cooler air. 

Upon reaching our car and saying our goodbyes, my body was giving me a a battle. I went through a bottle of water and that did little to help. The ride home was okay until I hit Clark on the Parkway. The traffic quickly ground to a halt. I had to make a decision—continue on to see how the traffic progressed or ease the car off to Exit 135 and travel through Westfield  to home and safety. 

The churning of New Jersey State Trooper vehicle lights gave me the impetus to get off the roadway quickly. While I had to navigate the slower streets, it proved to be a lifesaver. 

I hopped into bed, in a sweat suit and then a bathrobe. I was freezing. I took my temperature and it was 102.3. I was sick—from heat exhaustion and what I would later learn the next day, a virus. Not COVID, which is having a late Summer resurgence. I had three negative tests in two days. 

It took me three days and a visit to City MD, a cough suppressant and help from a medical professional to start to get my illness under control. A lot of sweating, temperature variation and a day without eating much of anything was part of the process. No matter what the mind wanted, exercise was out of the question because multiple family members threatened serious bodily harm if I tried, and I wasn’t near being able to defend myself. 

Nonetheless, your intrepid sports reporter managed to see Rutgers down Northwestern 21-7. RU excelled, especially on defense. 

Northwestern was expected to be at the bottom of the Big Ten standings. While the team showed spirit, the talent level showed that the Wildcats were undermanned against a Scarlet Knights team which perhaps was that much better than its foe. This was one game. Too early to make a judgment on how good RU might be. 

Oh, that near sellout at SHI Stadium? Over 53,000 were supposedly in attendance. They must have been disguised as aluminum bleachers, or those who didn’t show had the audacity to not to tempt heat exhaustion but rather watched the game as it was nationally televised by CBS.

Even after hopping into a bath and then using cold compresses on my legs, I watched the Yankees game in Houston. The Baby Bombers had injected life into a moribund team, and New York was playing for a rare road series sweep in Texas. New York riddled pitcher Justin Verlander, the Hall of Fame lock, on Friday night including a first MLB swing by Jason Dominguez, he of the effervescent smile, which landed in the left field seats, and another mauling of what is now the top team in the AL West on Saturday.

I managed to stay awake until the top of the fifth inning with the Yanks trailing 1-0. I thought that all good things must come to an end. Surprise, the young Yankees rallied and beat the Astros 6-1. It must have been a fun plane ride home. 

Labor Day Monday was a day spent in bed or on couches. When awake, I believe I saw Duke beat Clemson for the first time since 2004, and it wasn’t close. The arrogant Tigers were cold-cocked by a Blue Devils team that looked just better. Duke QB Riley Leonard’s 44 yard TD run was spectacular. NJ native Mike Elko, who grew up in South Brunswick, has made this team into a force in the ACC. 

I also caught a little of the Phillies-Padres game. What was supposed to be a battle between two really good teams was won by the one team which was good enough to make it to the World Series, while all the money spent in beautiful San Diego was for nothing this season. While the Braves splattered the Dodgers this weekend in LA taking 3 out of 4, I have a real liking for the Phis as they head through September to the playoffs, where they will likely play the Milwaukee Brewers, leaders of the NL Central. 

Tuesday I was up enough to watch Novak Djokovic take apart American Taylor Fritz, who had never beaten the Serb. Unless something goes awry in the semifinals, it will be Djokovic and Carlos Alcaraz. That will be fun. Plus the youthful Yankees again led the team past the Tigers. Good medicine for my ailment. 

It is Wednesday as I first write this blog and I am feeling better. Not near 100%. But better. Except that Verizon FIOS is out locally and I can’t watch the Yankees. They won anyway. 

Thursday night was brutal. Terrible chills. A 103.6 degrees temperature. Not what I expected. I needed to get better for the final game of the Tigers-Yankees series and the NFL opener between Detroit and Kansas City.

So I ended up in RWJ Barnabas Emergency Room for 6 excruciating hours. 3 IV’s. Meds. Sweating. Not eating breakfast until 4:00 P.M. 

The verdict—a Urinary Tract Infection. I am on meds for that, plus I will drink lots of Gatorade and use Tylenol and Aleve to curb my fever. Still waiting on some cultures to confirm what I have. Going to see my urologist and I have talked with my primary care physician and conferred with one retired dentist. 

But I was home in plenty of time for Pardon The Interruption, the opening act for Thursday night. I am going to let my wife cook. I need a shower. The oppressive heat will end with T storms. Not what I anticipated. And Carlos Rondon returned to bust form as the Yankees were mauled by the Tigers.

What a drag, after all.