Fenway Park unfolded before us- the left field wall, so close it seems you could reach out and touch it, the sweep of the bleachers in the sun, the overhang where the broadcasters work and where the swells sit to watch the action unfold behind glass. And the people- old men who saw Williams, toddlers who don’t remember 2007, baseball mad youngsters and patient, pregnant wives- a sea of motion and talk, laughter, smells, and colors.
I got these tickets through an amazing series of coincidences, but pass to me they did. I had to ask my girlfriend to come, of course-secretly wishing she had some engagement, freeing me to bring a seamhead buddy to enjoy the best seats I’ve ever had. But of course, she was absolutely free today, so she dug out her pink cap, short skirt, and Ellsbury shirt and joined me.
“What’s this say,” she asked, squinting, “on the back of the ticket here?”
We were late, hustling to our seats as the first inning began. “That’s the disclaimer about how they’re not responsible if you get hit by a line drive or something like that,” I said. “You have to pay attention to the game,” I reminded her.
I heard the crack of the bat, and started to turn my head to see what happened. I heard it the same time I felt it-a soft crunching sound of something impacting my head from the side right before everything went black.
Oh wow, and when you mentioned the disclaimer I thought for sure it was the girlfriend who was going to get whacked in the head. Great job!
Same thoughts as Gany! thank you for writing about the BEST baseball stadium in the world and the BEST team. I have many happy memories of sitting in the bleachers, drinking warm beer, and watching the game udner the night lights. Peace…
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