Fenway Park

What may become an annual pilgrimage to one of baseball's hallowed places began last night. My roommate from college, Doug got the idea that we go to Boston and take in a game. Though both of us are fans of National League teams, it's still a great ballpark in a great town.  So the plans were set.
In typical "The First Draught" fashion I'm going to digress to the minutiae. I could describe the game and John Lackey's pitching performance but you can see that on Sportscenter. What you can't see is what I experienced first hand.
Let's run it down.
1. The hotel walk. Our hotel was about a ten minute walk to the park. Easy. Right before we left a helicopter landed on the hospital roof just behind our hotel. It was only 200 ft overhead. Pretty cool and loud. What I remember most during the walk to the game was a guy taking photos of a curious building with his iPad. It's cool that's got a camera built into it but the guy looked so awkward as he leaned back and one side trying to photograph the upper reaches of the building.

2. Easygoing and friendly. Maybe we just got lucky but the crowd was great. Everyone hanging out around the outside of the ballpark buying food, beer and souvenirs were totally in control. No attitudes, fights or raucous groups of idiots. There were lots of families and plenty of smiles.

3. Police presence. During the game I saw one uniformed officer stationed near our section. A couple times between innings when the security folks stand on the field and face the crowd, I noticed a couple other cops. After the game there more to help with traffic. I can count one hand the number of events I've been to where I saw very few law enforcement folks and no aggressive incidents. Well done, Boston.

4. The most idiotic conversation I've heard in a long time blossomed in the row behind me. The four people sitting behind me had a conversation that resembled a Saturday Night Live skit more than an actual interchange between intelligent beings. The set-up: 4 adults. 2 male and 2 female all in their 50's sitting directly behind me. We're 15 rows behind and slightly to the left of home plate under the foul ball screen. One of the guy's cell phone rings...
"Hey. We're behind home plate. Where are you? I see the columns. Right field side? Ok. Under the Boston globe sign? What color shirt are you wearing? White, ok. No,  I can't see you. Wave your arms. Maybe stand up and wave your arms. Uhhhh, ok there you are. Yeah, ok. After the game then. Bye."
Woman's voice: "Who was that?"
"That was Joe."
""Oh, I didn't know they were coming tonight," she said. "Where are they sitting?"
The next few responses switch between all four meatheads.
"He's under the overhang on the right field side."
"Ho many rows up?"
"He's right over there." A hand extends over my shoulder pointing towards the stands."
"I don't see him."
"He's wearing a white shirt."
"Nah. I still don't see him."
"He's sitting next to the column under the Boston Globe sign."
"Is he on the left or the right side of the column?"
"Is he sitting or standing?"
"Call him back and ask him to wave again."
He's right there. Can't you see him? He's right next to the column."
"Does he have a hat on?"
"No. That's not him. Are you looking at the right column?"

This idiocy continued for another five minutes until Joe got another phone call and stood, waved and made an ass of himself. Did these people really pay the price of admission to wave to their friggin' neighbor? Apparently their ticket entitled them to annoy the hell out of me. Luckily that was the extent of their buffoonery for the evening. I swear I haven't heard a dumber conversation by healthy adults n some time. By the way, they missed an entire half inning searching for their next door neighbor.

5. I went to the beer stand to grab me a Guinness and my Welshman friend a Harp when I walked into a conversation with the two attendants. I got a little thrill because no one was in line but I had to wait for them to finish this...
"Can you believe it?"
"No. You know what's worse?"
"Nah. What?"
"I love it when they wait in line and tell their kid they can't have a pretzel acuz they're too expensive but they lay down $8 for a beer. Makes me sick."
"Amen. What's wrong with those people?"

I had to agree with them. I almost didn't buy the beer when I thought about how much cash I was dropping. But in the end it wasn't about the money. It was about the entertainment. And if I had my kids with me, they get a hot dog or a pretzel or popcorn or whatever. It's a freakin' ballgame. Kids don't know what's too much to pay for a pretzel. Adults sure as hell know that paying $8 for a plastic cup of beer is insane but we do it because it involves alcohol! Give the kids a break. Fork over the dough.

The weather cooperated and delivered a cool clear night. Perfect for a baseball game. For about 5 innings it was a 0-0 game with a bases loaded threat by the Sox ended with a weak ground ball. A scoring outburst by the home team turned the crowd loose. I don't care how small that park is. Energy bristled through the place whenever the Sox made a fine play.