Sunday went from the largest rebounding group yet … to just me.
With my longest-term buddy in the world — Kristen Cohen, whom I met when I was a couple months old and have loved like a twin sister since — in New York for a girls’ weekend of shows and relaxation, her other five-sixths came up to spend some time at the homestead and help with the rebounding. I’m sure there are plenty of others in the world, but the Cohens are the only family I know with two sets of twin boys, 8-year-olds Dan and Tom, and 5-year-olds Charlie and Peter The Great (my godson). Then there’s Lee, the dad, with whom I’ve come to be nearly as close as I am with Kristen, and with whom I’ve virtually spent many huge Red Sox and Patriots games in recent years, wearing out our Blackberries with our thumb-enabled analysis.
This was a highly anticipated visit, and after their arrival, a hot dog-and-pizza lunch and a few rounds on the Wii, the Cohens, Noah, Mason and I headed to the gym to make some free throw magic happen. Which is about when the day turned a little sour. I hadn’t heard about the dance recital that was taking over the gym for the afternoon, so it was with no small measure of embarrassment that I had to call the basketball part of our day off, turn the cars around and head home.
The good news is that any day spent to any extent with any percentage of the Cohens is an excellent day. The bad news is that my foul shooting turned into a one-man, late-night show — 1,000 in just under an hour, closer to midnight than I would have hoped.
So thanks for the trip up, Cohens, and we’ll see all six of you in a few weeks for New Year’s Day … and hopefully we’ll get to sneak in some foul shots for real next time.
That’s 41,507 down, 958,593 to go.