What dreams are made of

I don't have any kind of baseball commentary to offer today because there are only so many variations of "Oh good god why? WTF bullpen! WTF offense! Please, somebody make the pain stop." So instead, a lighter note. I totally dreamt about Dan Haren last night.

I was living in the middle of nowhere, on a street with like, two other houses. A couple of kids ran away from the neighbor's house, and since our houses are sorrounded by desert and they had no place to go, we took them in.Then we went to a baseball game. At Yankee Stadium. Where Dan Haren plays as a left fielder when he's not pitching.

So my sisters and I are at Yankees Stadium and we decide we want to sneak into the clubhouse but wind up in this underground network of abandoned corridors, stepping over giant rolls of discarded carpet. Then who should come looking for us but Dan Haren. Dan Haren leads up out of the dusty catacombs of Yankee Stadium. This takes so long that by the time we're finally out, we've convinced Dan Haren to come to dinner at our house with us and the rugrats we've taken in.

And he does. But my sister Stephanie is putting some major moves on him and I was just like, "You need back up off Dan Haren. He's mine and you don't even like baseball." After that, Dan Haren got up from dinner to answer a phone call from Stephen Drew, at which point I woke up.