September 15, 2013
Take Me Out To The Bargame, er, Ballgame. Ballgame is What I Meant…
Long-time readers may recall that yours truly is a diehard Boston Red Sox fan. To that point, two actual conversations from this past week with my toddler son:
Son: I want to
grow up to be a mommy.
Me: Well, that will require surgery.
Son: I like the
Me: What? No! You do not. You like the Red Sox! Understand, the Boston Red Sox is our team! Boston! Red! Sox!
A father has to know where to draw lines.
I come from a long line of Red Sox fans, and so to celebrate my father’s birthday (if memory serves, his 1000th or something), my brothers and I decided to take him to a Red Sox-Yankees game at Fenway Park.
We looked into getting some rooms at the Fenway Howard Johnson but given this was a very special occasion, we first had to carefully consider each and every pro and con.
Across the street from Fenway.
The decision kind of made itself.
(As an aside, if you come across a review of the Fenway HoJo that starts with, “Was in Boston for a business conference,…” you can stop reading right there. It’s like reading a review of a Greyhound bus station that starts with, “Stopped by for dinner with my wife on our anniversary…”)
Having squared away our hotel room (months earlier, of course) and securing some very nice seats, the only open issue was our meals. When we all finally arrived in Boston the day before the game, my father offered to buy us all lunch at the Eastern Standard.
I offered to buy dinner.
My father purchased the rest of the meals.
Of course, no visit to Boston with your half-Irish brothers would be complete without spending a lot of time in bars and we stumbled (literally at times) across a couple of interesting ones.
The Bleacher Bar is a little bar tucked into Fenway (accessible from the street) where I understand the old batting cages used to be and offers a view, through a metal grate, of the outfield. We thought this just might be one of the finest bar concepts ever conceived by humankind. We are also morons.
Another one was Jerry Remy’s roof deck bar, next to the Howard Johnson’s. It was a great place with a view of Fenway but it did pour rain for part of the time while we were there. Do you know what the first thing an Irishman does when he gets caught in a the pouring rain while drinking his beer?
He gets wet.
While Fenway is over a century old, it has been updated with the very latest in technology including advanced digital displays that are extremely helpful in letting casual fans who may not understand all of baseball’s many arcane traditions and intricacies, know who won.
Overall, a truly fine and successful trip.
In the meantime, the Russians brokered a peace deal with the United Nations.
Really, I can’t turn my back on you guys for a moment.
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