I'm A Man. Confirmed.

It has finally come to pass. I am a man. Time of death on my youth, May 15, 2007. 8:39pm. The Red Sox are loosing to the Tigers 4-1 and Manny just struck out looking on a nasty Justin Verlander change-up. Call it.

I, more or less, had the epiphany this weekend. I was down in DC visiting my uncle, aunt and cousins. This was about the 200th such trip I've made in my life, but this time I stayed at my cousin's house. First time not at my aunt and uncles place. I brought my fiance, and spent most of my time not watching movies, talking baseball and listening to my uncle's life tales, but in a nursing home. Getting a dugout view of the final innings of a game that has now become out of reach. My uncle has had his second stroke, and is playing the waiting game. A good portion of his brain is scrambled, but he is all too aware of where he is, and where he will never be again.

His condition is almost baffling. He can still tell you what Mike Lowell is currently batting, what moves the Patriots made last week, and how the Celtics better win the draft lottery. By the sounds of it everything is still pretty good. However, when we arrived on Saturday the Red Sox were in the middle of their game against Baltimore. He was blankly watching the community access station. He didn't remember the Red Sox were on, he only knows what he reads in the paper. A paper he reads several times a day. They say as you get older a day gets shorter. A minute makes up less and less a percentage of your life, so it becomes less significant. I get the feeling his days are pretty long. Just sitting there. In his chair, all day. Still, you have to realize he's had an amazing life. I could only dream to experience half of what he has.

Even in my quasi rebellious youth, where under normal circumstances I would have rather been at home drinking my five dollar share off of a 30 rack on the train tracks, and not potentially missing out on any potential happenings, than doing anything family related, a trip to DC was always more than welcomed. My Uncle could talk. He could tell a hell of a story, and he could make you laugh.

He was the oldest of my father's three siblings. He still holds a Maine State track record (I've forgotten exactly what) and played a damn good center field, I've been told (more than once, from more than one person). So good he was given a full scholarship to Yale and also offered a minor league contract by the Philadelphia Phillies. He gave it all up. For a woman, of course. They were married, had a couple of kids and she ran off to California with them and some other guy. In search of fame and god knows what else. He worked the docks in Boston and saved up enough money to go after his kids. It's a long story that I won't bother anyone with here, but it almost led to his death... twice.

All out of options and back on the east coast, he enrolled in the University of Maine. Transferred to Pitt and then on to B.U. for grad school. He taught in most of the Universities in Virginia and became the President of the National Pharmaceutical Council. He got marriage right on the 2nd try. My aunt is a hell of woman who has stuck by my uncle more than anyone could be expected to, and she has not always received the credit for that. I cannot possibly imagine what her life has been like the last few years, but she's done it. For better or worse, that's what they say, and she has most certainly lived up to her vows. All of us men could pray to be as lucky.

He had two kids with my Aunt. Two kids who now have kids. Their kids are now older than I was when I thought my cousins were 'old.' It puts everything in a weird sort of perspective. Kind of like when you're in sixth grade and all the eighth graders look like monsters. Then, when you're in eighth grade you don't feel so big. But you notice all of those high school kids looking down on you. Then when you're a senior, there's no part of you that dwarfs the freshman. Looking back as a college grad now, it's laughable to be that I would have ever feared a high schooler, but it's all perspective, I guess. And everything was put in perspective this weekend. My life is on its way, and I'm old.

It's worth noting that I'll be waking up at 5am tomorrow morning to win an Australian eBay auction for a '87/'88 Mitchell and Ness Larry Bird All Star Jersey. I mean, I could steal this puppy. Sure, it's a size too big, but I never know when I'm going to get this chance again. These don't come up for auction everyday. I should also disclose that I'm wearing a game worn Portland Sea Dogs jersey as I type this. It's a left handed pitcher from last season who wore 19. I wear it in honor of Josh Beckett. So, I'm holding on to something. I'm not THAT old.

7-2 Detroit. Looks like more than my youth is slip, sliding away.