Red Sox Win!

J and I went to his first big league game yesterday at Fenway Park. He was really excited about the trip and was telling everyone he saw that he was "going to see the Red Sox play". We left home around 8:30am for Boston, which is about a three hour drive. With a little traffic and some difficulty finding parking ($40!), we arrived about at Fenway about 35 minutes before the first pitch at 1:05pm. Plenty of time to get some food and find our seats.

The photo is of Tim Wakefield facing (I think) Aaron Boone. For those that follow the Red Sox, you might remember that Wakefield gave up the home run to Boone to send the Yankees to the 2003 World Series. Boone, who now plays for the Cleveland Indians, was soundly booed every at-bat, which was sorta funny. No grudge there or anything. Boone went 0-3 against Wakefield yesterday

J, who is only 5, did a decent job of following the game. He asked tons of questions (no surprise there, the kid is a sponge). He thought the foul balls were really funny and kept yelling "You're hitting it the wrong way!". J has a little trouble with the rules of baseball, but watching the game in person seemed to help. When we watch on TV, he sorta comes and goes, asking for updates on the score, etc. Actually, games usually finish after his bed time, so he makes me put his Red Sox hat at the foot of his bed when they win. This is a tradition that started during the Tar Heels run to the NCAA Championship this year, and continued into baseball season.

J also enjoyed the Wave when it made it's way around during the seventh inning. The wave is funny in Fenway, since it gets really anemic across the Green Monster, but manages to continue.

So this whole post brings up a good question: Why the hell am I watching baseball? Well, I don't have a simple answer, unfortunately. I played baseball as a kid, and had friends who where huge fans. I also enjoy baseball movies (baseball and boxing seem to make good movies. Must be something about the compartmentalized action). I also have childhood memories of my Grandparent's house in Montana. There was always a game on when we visited in the summer. I can't remember what team(s) they rooted for, but the sound of the announcers in the background was a constant. TV, radio if we where outside. So there is the nostalia factor (which I always think about during Field of Dreams when James Earl Jones gives his little speech about baseball being a constant toward the end - love that part).

M's brother is a huge Mets fan, too. And her parent's watch the Yankees. So there is usually baseball there, too. When we lived in Athens, we went to a couple of Braves games, so I followed them a bit. Mostly because I liked Greg Maddux, though. Not the Braves so much.

So, we moved to Massachusetts in 2001. The Red Sox are everywhere here, and it's hard not to notice. Osmosis I guess. I really started paying attention in 2003, which was a typically crushing "what-if" year for the Red Sox I guess. What if Grady Little had taken Pedro out earlier? What if Aaron Boone hadn't earned a new middle name (Aaron F******* Boone)?

So the answer? I'm just a sports nut. Don't know where it came from, nor when it started. M is at least partly responsible. It was latent (other than cycling) when we first started dating, but she brought it out. College Basketball, Tennis, Baseball, Cycling.

Ok, that was long. J and I had a great time though. Fenway is fun, we will be back. I'm not sure if you can tell from the photo, but the seats were great. Too bad the zoom on my camera sucks. I'll have to do something about that before we go back.