Monday, June 27, 2005

Tragedy of Errors

Cycled over to Brighton for an 11 am appointment with an LPN to look at my shoulder, which has been giving me problems during painting and yard work. She says: probably tendinitis, take Aleve twice a day for a week and call her if it doesn't get better. Okey-dokey.

From JP to Brighton, I took the route past Jamaica Pond, through Brookline on Cottage St., and then into Brighton on Chestnut Hill Ave. Mighty hilly route. Mighty hilly. So on the way back I took Harvard Ave. to Brookline Village and then caught the Emerald Necklace bike path through Olmsted Park. Much better.
Stopped at Jamaica Pond to see what the deal was on their sailboats. $15 an hour to rent. I'll be back.
Then to JP Center to buy Aleve. I also went into Boomerangs thrift store and bought some shirts and ties. I hardly ever wear ties, but next time I will have a new (to me) tie to wear. Kind of gives a guy a good feeling.
Back at home I cleaned off a tarpaulin that we had used at the BBQ and then got ready to go to the Red Sox - Cleveland game at Fenway. I had bought a ticket from Randy Divinski last week.
Eighty-six years of heartache: 1918 - 2004.
The World-Champion Red Sox have won seven in a row and are coming off a 6-0 road trip to Cleveland and Philadelphia. But tonight's game, the first of the homestand, was a tragedy of errors.
First three innings were scoreless, Arroyo for Boston and Millwood for Cleveland both pitching well. In the fourth, Cleveland loaded the bases with one out, but Arroyo induced a perfect double-play ball to third. Mueller fielded it cleanly and threw to second but Bellhorn took his eye off the ball and failed to make the catch. Two runs scored when Arroyo should have been out of the inning. (Earlier in the game, a young woman arrived in my row with a t-shirt reading "I'd like to do porn with Mark Bellhorn" but she and her friends were gone at the time of the Bellhorn error. As we cursed Bellhorn, the guys behind me wondered where that girl with the Bellhorn shirt was now.)
Even more tragic was the play in the seventh inning, when Cleveland's center-fielder Sizemore hit a line drive to right. Trot Nixon raced back and it looked like he had a bead on it, but it ricocheted off his glove and into the Cleveland bullpen for a two-run home run. Two batters later, Arroyo gave up a bomb to DH Haffner and that was it for him. Cleveland won the game 7-0.
I had a great seat in the left field grandstand, section 32 (the no-alcohol family section), just below the foul pole that Carleton Fisk famously hit in game six of the 1975 World Series. In front of me was a mom with her two girls at their first Red Sox game. Another guy -- the mom's boyfriend, I think -- was also there with them. I had brought my binoculars so I offered them to the boyfriend so that he could give them to the girls. They were thrilled to be able to get an up-close look at Johnny Damon and I felt pretty satisfied with myself, that I had helped enhance the key first-major-league-baseball-game experience of these two kids.
The view from my seat in section 32.
But then in the fifth inning, the mom leaned back to me and said, "Hey, how you doing? I left my ID in the car. If I gave you some money, would you go buy me a beer?"
For some reason the boyfriend was unable to perform this task.
"Well, this is the no-alcohol section," I replied, hoping that would settle it. But no.
"That's okay, I can stand over there and drink it."
Wow, I thought. Here you are with your two kids at their very first Red Sox game, you've got your replica Red Sox jersey on, and your top priority is going over to the aisle so you can suck down a cup of overpriced light beer.
But all I said was, "No, sorry. I don't want to leave my seat, I might miss part of the game."
Later, while the mom and the girls went to go get some ice cream and souvenirs, it was all I could do to resist saying to the boyfriend, "Leave now, while you have the chance!"
David "Big Papi" Ortiz at the bat.

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