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Holiday Inn Express, Warwick, RI (Photo: IHG)

People were milling around the lobby of the hotel last night when I decided to slip out.

We'd had a nice dinner of wings, nachos, and other kid-friendly finger foods, and I was tired.

Some began to head outside to play Kan Jam, while the No Fun Policeman was yelling at people.

Seriously, this dude was clearly the captain of the Holiday Inn Express & Suites Warwick-Providence (Airport) No Fun Police.

He only needed a badge.

Let's see, beers needed to be consumed in a cup.

Kids were constantly being lectured about the furniture. OK, granted, they shouldn't be climbing on it, but one would think he'd have some better things to do.

I'm sure there was a judgment on our having food in the area in which people tend to, you know, eat.

In short, his constant presence and observation of us got exhausting. If I didn't just leave and head for home, I figured the best I could do was to go to bed.

I knew if I continued to sit there, I'd say something to him, either causing embarrassment or getting thrown out. Or both.

Given we almost got thrown out of the baseball game earlier, I opted to remain silent. To be clear, the umpires ultimately didn't have a problem with me or our broadcast but they objected to fans complaining about ball-strike calls (which were frankly bad). Incidentally, develop some rabbit ears and let it go. Ejecting people in the first inning wouldn't be necessary. In any event, it calmed down.

So, with sunburned arms and neck from yesterday, I disappeared and went to bed.

Saying goodbye to everyone is difficult when the season ends and people disperse kind of quickly. To that end, I was in the lobby before 7 a.m. The NFP were thankfully nowhere to be found. 

I'm also terrible at goodbyes.

So I grabbed a quick breakfast and departed Rhode Island.

I simply can't thank everyone enough. Heck, Mike Buswell and Bob Gerbert were trying to convince me to join them on vacation to say thank you for the broadcasts. In truth, I thank them for everything.

No, I don't get rich doing these games, but I feel loved and appreciated. Thus the honor is mine.

They gave me a place to stay, fed me, and fully supported the broadcasts.

While I can't root on the air, my heart always hurts when a season comes to an end, as it did with Trumbull falling to Rhode Island yesterday. It breaks my heart to watch the players and parents cry. I feel for the coaches who agonize over the decisions. 

But sports is winning and losing. And there are wonderful lessons to be learned. Trumbull is too good. They'll be back (and maybe I'll be there with them).

Today's East Regional Championship was moved to Noon and I decided I was just going home. In truth, had anyone asked me to stay and call the championship, you can bet that I would have.

Instead, I was home by 9:30. I had laundry running by 10.

The Cat has been next to me the entire time since I walked in.

Sean is on the way home from South Carolina so I'll have to go meet him and his friends in a bit.

With that, travel is over for now. I've pondered a day trip before high school football season but we'll see how realistic that is.

A lot of things are on my plate this week, so I'll be busy here. Of course, the week begins with a very expensive fuel pump replacement on Monday morning.

Then it's back to the Renegades, "Doubleheader," and so on. 

I didn't expect this journey to happen.

I'm glad it did.

And I'm already looking forward to 2025.