field trip
When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for your utility knuckle ball catching specialist and the rookie mid-season call-up to produce RBIs in the clutch --As of yesterday morning, I still didn't have any plans for 4th of July and, and, when they asked, I'd started telling my co-workers that I was thinking about coming into the office because I'm short-staffed right now and figured I could use the time to get caught up.
Eventually, I realized that was pathetic, and decided that I should use the holiday to take advantage of every Bostonian's patriot right to decide at a moment's notice that they want to try and go see a Red Sox game. Unfortunately, the spirit was willing but the wallet was weak, but since I didn't have anything to do in the five hours before the one o'clock first pitch, I braved the day-of-game ticket line and got the closest bleacher seat available. Beats the hell out of a Wednesday at the office.
From what I saw, the Sox completely dominated the Devil Rays in every way, but I did spend the entire top of the 7th inning visiting the first aid station, so that ... might have something to do with that. All that inherited runner lollypop crap did create a save situation and an opportunity to see the blog's eponymous beautiful best beloved, who has been busy since his near attempted manslaughter last week, cranking his K/9 up to 12.5, notching his second All-Star appearance, employing his Scrabble champ verbal skills to write poetic campaign slogans for Oki's own All Star bid (Get my man / To San Fran / It's closer to Japan), giving up junk home runs during non-save situations just to remind everyone that kill mode is not to be taken lightly, and, as I learned at the park today, lending his likeness to a LUNCHBOX for the Kid Nation fan club. God damn, I wanted that lunch box, but you have to join Kid Nation to get one, and, uh, you have to be 14 or under to be a member of Kid Nation. Screw that. Somehow, someday, that lunch box will be mine.
Anyway, Papelbon, you might have heard, needed just nine pitches to finish off the game, and it was the best 4th of July ever.
posted by always thinking about papelbon @ 7:25 PM
9 Comments:
Freakin' kids have all the fun.
I'll admit it. I (through the straw man of my niece) am a member of Red Sox Kid Nation. I own the lunchbox. I'm still slightly too ashamed to take it anywhere, but it makes me smile sitting on my nightstand, holding all the random junk they sent me. Beware, though, they send you a newsletter every month which makes me roommates look at me funny.
Clearly, next time I'm at Fenway, I just need to grab the next 12 year old I see. That won't be weird at all, right?
Hey, if it's D'Angelo Ortiz, you might bet roped into babysitting anyway.
Yeah, if Tina's Cavernous Maw is allowed to babysit him, clearly the qualifications are not extensive.
Heh. I did it online. :) I have no shame.
Hmm. I have a six year old cousin...but she lives in upstate New York. Drat.
-Caroline.
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2017.7.29
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