The Reds are among the several Ohio sports teams discussed on Ohio Sports Time, a blog that also features quite narrow columns. Very convenient for your feeling of accomplishment over the number of inches you read about area sports.

Bobby Livingston is probably done for the season with a partially torn labrum in his pitching (left) shoulder. They haven't decided whether to operate, but if they do, that could take him out even longer.

Livingston has been a solid contributor to the Reds, though he did get roughed up pretty bad his last time out. Then again, with a partially torn labrum, maybe that's not so surprising.

He's currently on the 15-day DL and the team has brought back Mr. Sophomore Slump himself, Todd Coffey, to take his place. How in the world they think that Coffey fills the spot of the lefty starter who was scheduled to take the mound on Sunday, I cannot explain, but I'm hoping that Coffey has gotten his game together while with the Bats. He was going to be back with the team sooner than later anyway, as the minor league season is almost done.

Can you believe that? We're approaching our last month of baseball already. Time flies when you're constantly anticipating your team's next bonehead maneuver.

Sunday's pitcher is still up in the air. They're already having to recall Matt Belisle to start tomorrow. The options are many, and there isn't a standout choice. Hopefully the Reds' hot streak is so hot that it doesn't matter who they put on the mound in the same way that it didn't matter who they put in the outfield tonight.

Better late than never with the photos from the weekend trip to Cincy a few weekends back. I recounted Friday night's activities in a much more timely manner, but we actually stuck around until Saturday, though not for the actual game.

Saturday morning was the pizza party for members of the Reds Heads club, where we thought that only one parent would be able to get in. Thankfully, they were OK with both of us attending our boy because I didn't know what in the world one of us was going to do while the other one was there.

For some reason, I thought that the pizza party would take place indoors, so I did not properly sunblock myself. In fact, we were pizza partying in the Fan Zone, which is probably a much better idea. Not only is there a playground, but they also kept the kids and their pizza in an area that could be power-washed.

Mr. Redlegs, the only mascot I know of who is routinely armed, was in attendance and squirting like crazy. He even squirted me, which I found to be an odd experience. Suddenly my side is wet, and I look around to see Mr. Redlegs grinning at me, some three feet away. What am I supposed to do in response, I ask you. Chase him? Punch him? I mean, I'll flirt with Gapper, but Mr. Redlegs is just going too far.

After the kids had eaten as much as they could handle, it was time for a little presentation on the stage. Tom Hume was there, as was Mike Gosling.

A little later, Aaron Harang appeared. The three pitchers took some cute little questions from the kids, though they didn't seem to know how to talk to the 5-8 year old crowd. It's not like 14-year olds who know something about the game; these kids are probably already thinking about SpongeBob by the third word in your answer. When they ask you what it's like to be a pitcher, “it's really fun!” is about the level of detail they can deal with.

After the presentation, we could mill around the stadium until it was time for the concert. Here's a photo of David Weathers tossing with his 6-year old. I haven't seen the boy up close, but compared to my 6-year old, he looks huge, plus he can throw further than I can. You get that eerie sense with this kid that you might just be looking at the future of something.

Finally it was time for the concert. We parked under a patio umbrella and settled in with a couple beers to check out the show. Our son continually ran off to do the run to first base, do the batting video game, and play on the playground while we listened to the concert. It's a darn nice setup for families.

We ended up bailing before the game. We'd already been in the stadium for something like four hours and we had a neighborhood party to get back to in Indiana, so we listened on the radio on the drive home. Besides, Mr. Redlegs had put away the squirt gun in favor of his bat, so we knew we'd better get out of there before he started attacking me with that.

If the games had been as exciting that weekend as they're turning out to be lately, we might have stuck it out. As it was, we were able to enjoy a lovely day at the ballpark, entirely baseball-free.