Wednesday, April 25, 2007

thanks, beautiful

Clearly, all the people I know knew something about last night's game that I didn't. Because after my roommate turned down a trip to Fenway, I went through a mile long list of everyone who I wasn't already going to multiple games with this season and not a single one was available (excuses ranged from illness to homework to corn-planting). In the end, kelly called me at 6:30 from Davis Sq. where she was carrying groceries and wearing a dress. I said, "where are you right now?" and the end result was that she managed to go home, change, and actually beat me to Fenway, getting there at 7:14. So not only did we get to witness a spectacular loss, we also proved the oft-suspected fact that a cab ride from Somerville to Fenway in Sox traffic is still faster than taking 5 stops on the B Line. Go, MBTA!

Our seats were in the left field corner where the wall meets the Monster. If you watched the game on tv and saw a smiling middle-aged man catch the foul ball over there early in the game, please be aware that that ball actually HIT the little girl sitting behind him and while she was crying from the impact, he leaned over and picked it up from in front of her. Cold-hearted. The poor thing had to get an icepack for most of the game and she didn't even get a ball for her trouble.

Obvs, the best part of sitting in the left-field corner is the pas de deux between Manny and the guys who managed to sneak beer into the CVS Family Section. My favorite was when one of the guys shouted "Manny, you teach Wily Mo how to catch and he can teach you how to throw!" followed immediately by the realization that "I can't believe I just asked Manny to teach someone how to catch." And Manny really does laugh when the fans sarcastically over-excitedly cheer his slow grab-and-throw attempts. Oh, that crazy kid. At one point he was juggling his glove around in the air while someone was at bat. Seriously.

We also had a delightful view of Mike Lowell's ass, but I suppose that's neither here nor there.

Speaking of Lowell, they don't appear to make his shirt in red. And I only buy the shirts in red because I don't wear navy. I wanted either Lowell or Beckett and I could find neither (Beckett's won me over, dude, I cannot help it. I want to hear all about DMB, I really do). I did, however, consider getting a Clement shirt instead so I could give it to someone I hire to bring me coffee in the morning and let me throw baseballs at their face. No, really, I think it would make me feel better.


The game itself was, clearly, disappointing. Not only did Tavarez not pitch as well as one might like, he also wasn't batshit crazy and that's what I've come to enjoy most about his abortive attempts at being a professional baseball player. There was very little of his trademark directing traffic. Though, perhaps after the third error, he just gave up. But, it was a beautiful night at Fenway and I hadn't been to a game yet this season, and the bootleg t-shirt sellers in Kenmore Sq. are totally selling brilliant shirts that say "Yankees Suck" in Japanese. So it can't be that bad, right?

6 Comments:

At 10:37 AM, Blogger Unknown said...

i have made multiple efforts to convince the souvenir store that there is cash to be made!!! by selling mikey shirts in red. they are wilfully obtuse on this point. i demand mikey in red!

 
At 11:14 AM, Blogger Kristen said...

//We also had a delightful view of Mike Lowell's ass, but I suppose that's neither here nor there.
//

I disagree. I think this is of the utmost importance. I'm not sure why, exactly, but about a week ago, the Mike Lowell Is Hot Express Train hit me like woah. Same thing happened with Bill Mueller. And this, Greta theorizes, is why Youks was not allowed to play third base. Simply not hot enough.

 
At 11:32 AM, Blogger Wade said...

She begs to differ.

 
At 10:14 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Mikey in red! It's a war cry. I'm with you, anne.

Kristen, perhaps that explains the goatee? He thinks if he just tries to look "hotter," he'll be moved to 3rd?

 
At 11:36 AM, Blogger Unknown said...

Well it *is* called the hot corner!

 
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