What do Alistair Cooke and William Shakespeare have in common—besides both being English, both being writers, and both possessing that innate ability to sound disappointed in you without raising their voices? They would no doubt look upon the perennial tardiness of my weekly recaps with the kind of dignified disdain and moral superiority only British men can pull off convincingly.

Cooke once said that “A professional is someone who can do their best work when they don’t feel like it.” And Shakespeare, ever the overachiever, wagging his Elizabethan finger at me through time, wrote, “Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.”

A noble sentiment from Cooke, sure—but then, I’ve never claimed to be much of a professional. As for Shakespeare, I’ve always thought that line sounded like one written by someone who’s never tried getting two kids out the door on time for… anything.

And while normally I’d side with the British over the Germans (at least in the early part of the twentieth century) on this matter of punctuality, I find myself gravitating toward Albert Einstein: “For us who believe in physics, the separation between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.”

I don’t think he was talking about promptness, but since it fits my narrative, I’m just going to run with the idea that if time is an illusion, then technically, I’m not late… I’m just operating on a higher, quantum plane of punctuality.

This week, I don’t even have the convenient excuse of forgetfulness. The idea of writing this recap did, in fact, cross my mind on Tuesday morning. But then my actual paying job did what actual paying jobs do and took priority. I thought about it again on Thursday afternoon before TNF kicked off, but something (I honestly can’t quite remember what) took precedence, and once again, the recap was pushed to the back burner.

Friday and Saturday fell to work, Halloween, and World Series priorities. That left a small window: Sunday Morning. AKA right now. I went to bed last night at the very unreasonable hour of 2 a.m. after spending too much time at a Halloween party. Maybe I’m just no fun, but I’ve never really enjoyed events that require adults to wear costumes. While I fully understand that I’m in the minority here—and that vast numbers of Americans of legal voting age with real jobs and responsibilities gleefully flock to Ren Fairs, Mardi Gras, cosplay conventions, and the Super Bowl, I’m just not among their ranks.

But I’m also easily persuaded by people I love, and really, it isn’t all that much to ask for me to throw on some cat ears and let my daughter paint whiskers on my cheeks with mascara. Quick aside: Another thing I learned at forty-five years of age is that mascara is incredibly difficult to remove. So after scouring my face and removing several layers of skin in the process, I set my alarm, hit the sack, and fell asleep daydreaming of all my good intentions—being up early, coffee in hand, a blank page shining on my word processor as I happily hunted and pecked out the recap before the Sunday games started at noon.

And most of that happened. One nice thing about being three years sober is that it’s now possible to wake up after a late night out and not feel like shit, and actually get things done. Not that I make a habit of late nights out. These days, 11 p.m. and (gasp) two cups of Sleepytime constitute living on the edge.

But I digress. I got up and remembered that the New York City Marathon was today and turned it on. And promptly got distracted.

For those who’ve been desperately hoping I’d share the results, fear not—I aim to please. Hellen Obiri took first in the women’s division with a 2:19, breaking the previous 2:22:31 course record set by Margaret Okayo in 2003. Sharon Lokedi came in second at 2:20, and Fiona O’Keeffe—who I was pulling for because I’m still an American, dammit—finished fourth at 2:22. Over in the men’s division, the excitement down the final mile was almost unbearable as Benson Kipruto and Alexander Mutiso pushed neck and neck. Kipruto broke the tape at 2:08:09, with Mutiso less than a second behind.

So now that you all have the NYC marathon results you’ve surely been waiting impatiently for, I find myself rushing to finish this “recap” before the noon kickoffs. Because there’s being late, and then there’s being downright irredeemably negligent. And I’m not irredeemably negligent.

So here we go:

Austin Tourists 154.62 – Michiana Muskellunge 144.84
The Tourists move back to .500 and into second place in the East behind big games from James Cook (33.6) and Josh Allen (23.2). The Muskies put up a solid fight, led by Breece Hall (32.9) and Curtis Brown (25.5), but fall to 1–7.

San Antonio Tacos 182.48 – Jaybirds 145.88
The Tacos stay on top of the East at 5–3 thanks to strong outings from Jonathan Taylor (37.4), Saquon Barkley (33.4), and Bo Nix (23.8). The Jaybirds slip to 4–4 despite steady scoring from Tucker Kraft (33.3) and Michael Pittman Jr. (23.5).

New Mexico Lobos 126.96 – i²³Σπ 116.18
The Lobos improve to 7–1 and remain first in the West. Jalen Hurts (25.4) and Devon Achane (20.1) led the way, while the Robots got solid production from their defense (25) and Ladd McConkey (20.8)

Rockport Leatherheads 123.26 – Tortilla Flats Troubadours 106.12
Rockport evens its record at 4–4 behind Rashee Rice (25.5) and Patrick Mahomes (22.9). CeeDee Lamb (14.6) and Khalil Shakir (20.8) paced the Troubs, who fall to 3–5.

Week 9 Matchups

San Antonio Tacos (5–3) vs. Austin Tourists (4–4)
Michiana Muskellunge (1–7) vs. Jaybirds (4–4)
i²³Σπ (4–4) vs. Rockport Leatherheads (4–4) 
Tortilla Flats Trout (3–5) vs. New Mexico Lobos (7–1)