Fenway Park 7/17/06

Wow, have I ever been delinquent. This is not due to laziness, actually. I have been swamped with work. Not so much the work that I get paid to do, but work in my personal life. Basically, I've been dealing with electricians and contractors and agents and real estate attorneys and weird neighbors, all while continuing to clean out stuff at the Salem condo. Intensely exhausting. Yesterday's big project involved removing boxes and boxes from an eaves closet in 90 + degree heat. Heaps of crap to sort. I keep feeling like I'm never going to get everything done in time for the closing, but I know that there isn't much choice. Needless to say, I have been enlightened through this experience. In more ways that one, actually. I've saved the delightful basement clearing project for last. It might be dark and scary down there, but at least it will be cooler. Alright, 'nuff said.

The reward for all the work was attending last night's game with my mom. A bit steamy, but well worth all the sweating. Come from behind wins are my favorite kind. Especially after my mother grew pessimistic. One thing I seemed to be more acutely aware of at the game was the overabundance of Irish-themed Red Sox gear. I've got nothing against the Irish, but since when did the Red Sox partner with this particular group so closely? They're really shamrocking in the free world. I was psyched when other ethnic gear started surfacing, but it didn't take off and that disappoints me. I think they should create a cap that's green with a yellow B and a Brazilian flag on the back. Perhaps other countries could join in the fun. Portugal, Poland, New Zealand. Don't you think there are Red Sox fans in Scotland who would like some representation in RSN? Anyway, it was the first time my mother has been to Fenway and actually left with a W. See, Mom, you aren't cursed!

We were lucky enough to see 2 ceremonial pitches. The first was thrown by Meat Loaf (funny hearing the announcer say his name. Meat *pause* Loaf). The second was thrown by Will Ferrell dressed up in Tiante's uniform. He was being caught by Josh Beckett, who (whom?) he kept shaking off. Ferrell was all serious-like. Very amusing. His mother-in-law lives in Natick or something, I hear.

The Kansas City Royals brought some crazy little women with them to Fenway. There were two teenaged girls (wearing KC shirts, I think) standing above our section who kept tossing their sodas or slushies or whatever down below. Some of the contents splashed on folks who were sitting about 6 rows up from me and my mom. Needless to say, they were less than pleased. Middle fingers were exchanged and lots of shouting, The girls did the typical "tongue sticking out" business, holding their cups up, as if threatening to drop more down. At the peak of their arrogance, a guard made his way over to them and gently led them away, triggering huge applause and whatnot from our section. Beyond that excitement, there were two dueling heavy set dudes wearing AC/DC t-shirts. I noticed one give the other the stink eye as he climbed the steps. "This section ain't big enough for the both of us, fella!" Another interesting observance was the fact that the Royals all have exceptionally long last names. [They could barely squish them in to the diamond when their fielding positions were displayed.]

Gathwright
Mientkiewicz
Grudzielanek
Graffanino (*sniff*)
Wellemeyer

Announcer man had a little trouble with Grudzielanek. He sort of flew right through it, hoping he got it right. Matt Stairs continues to be my favorite major league name, though my mother has altered it slightly by changing "Matt" to "Back."

Overall, I was impressed with the work of the bullpen last night. Delcarmen held up really nicely. Hansen sparkled - and not just his huge freak teeth!

I forgot to charge my battery, so no pics from last night. Again, I've been super busy, so I'm cutting myself a little slack.

My friend Anne and I are getting together tonight (not that you care), so I'm not sure how much of the game I will catch. But, I will say that we need to beat these guys up. Seriously. Two out of three, at least. The lead must be padded! Go Lester!