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All that was missing from this weekend was the trophy.


By Hannah Wallace


Well, it’s a wonderfully stormy Monday morning—flooded 41 and violent firmament included. A great way to start the week, assuming the week has to start at all. And I suppose a weekend this good couldn’t last forever.


We had the best Friday evening. I got home from work at about 10 till six, changed my clothes, grabbed a bag full of toys and headed to Bradenton Beach. Hardly anyone was out, even though the sun was still high and it was hot enough to demand a dip in the water upon arrival. (The water was bathwater-warm, too.) We played paddleball and flopped around in the waves, took a walk and swam some more before deciding it was dinner time. We saw maybe 20 people total the whole time we were there.


No definite plans for dinner as we headed back east on Cortez, but it was hard to resist the draw of Lee Roy Selmon’s—though we were hardly dressed appropriately, CCB in his swim trunks and my wet bathing suit soaking through my T-shirt, both of us still a touch sandy. I don’t care: Brisket quesadilla trumps all social graces.


And would you believe it, when we finally made our way home, the sun was still up. We sat on the front porch and watched the sky change colors, then went inside to watch A Mighty Wind and play with our random record collection.


Saturday was all downtown Sarasota. As CCB hunkered down doing computer work for the Wonderfuls in their new office space, I strolled through the farmer’s market and down to Pineapple Avenue to get my hair cut at Dea Spa. Lunch at Patrick’s, a quick shopping excursion to TJ Maxx and a stroll up the Ringling Bridge and back, before heading to my parents’ house for a shower and hors d’oeuvres, then back downtown for dinner at the Broadway (quattro formaggi with fresh garlic and bacon—YUM), dessert at Whiteberry (plain with Oreos and coconut, and I am a happy Hannah), then over to Evies for some slick music from Vinyl Fest and awesome people watching. And that is how we do Saturday.


Of course, as I sit here listening to the rain and resting my chin on my hand, my nose reminds me that there was indeed some hockey this weekend, too. (You can’t quite ever get the glove-stink off your hands.) With a great combination of kickballers, Asolo-ites and Js both Big and Little in the stands cheering us on, the Revolution got goals from unlikely goal-scorers Krazy Kevin and Top Dog Tom to take charge of the championship game…until we started getting into penalty trouble late in the second period and gave up three unanswered goals in the third to lose 4-2. Still, it was all smiles and smartasses at the impromptu pizza party in the parking lot after the game, demonstrating that winning a championship is not the reason we show up in Ellenton every Sunday night. Woulda been nice, though.


Ah well, the fun always has to end some time. A cup of coffee and some soothing rumbly thunder ease me back into the work week, and the sun’ll be out again soon enough.