Some wins are comfortable, and others are...less so. They’re still wins, but they feel a little prickly. Right now Kermit the cat is velcroed to my side while I’m typing this recap, expressing his delight in this situation by ever-so-gently kneading my leg with his paws, including the delicate stilettos of his retracted claws. It hurts a little, but not consistently, and not enough to upend a sleeping, happy cat: kitty dream-snuffles and a deep, rumbling purr coming out of the warm little furry body cocooned at my hip. There’s something that feels monastic, ascetic about bearing this low-grade pain to preserve a little tranquility in the universe.
Mariners drive just as fast as their guardian angels can fly, win 2-0
