One of the last parks to fight off America's craze for knocking down old buildings and replacing them with modern crap.
Beer did not cost this much in 1912. It also was neither light nor Bud.
Keiran "K-Dog" Hassler. An old Bristol University pal. British born, Rochester, NY raised, Bristol 'educated', now a New Hampshire man. Basically nuts.
The infamous Green Monster. Basically Boston didn't have enough space in the neighbourhood around the park to put in a full sized right-field. So they built this. Right handed hitters hate it. Somehow I managed to see five home-runs over this thing in two nights. One cleared it by about 50ft. It was impressive.
Less impressive was our "restricted view" seating on my first visit. Who needs to see the pitcher really?
Old-timey wooden seating. Takes me back to the football grounds of my youth.This Washington State grad tool on the left features in the story later. He sucked.
A view from our brief sojourn in some temporarily unoccupied seats with a better view. We were soon bounced from these when the owners of the corresponding tickets arrived. We moved forward one row. Same thing happened. By this point we were annoying a few locals and becoming 'those guys'. But honestly, who doesn't try to get away from seats with a post between them and the mound?
The joke was on the grumpy types who objected to our attempts to emancipate ourselves from restricted view slavery when 2.5 innings into my career as a Sox fan I got a foul ball. It came into our section, landed in the aisle, and rolled past my crappy seat as a bunch of butter fingered dudes clamored for it. I just reached down and picked it up. I'll probably never get anywhere near a ball at a game for the rest of my life.
Later in the game, when almost the entire section behind us had emptied, we moved again. But we had the misfortune to randomly sit in our doochey Wazzu friend's seats while he was at the concession stand. Rather than ask us to move down a few seats he immediately called security, who returned us from the three rows of unoccupied space back behind the infernal pillar.
A view from our brief sojourn in some temporarily unoccupied seats with a better view. We were soon bounced from these when the owners of the corresponding tickets arrived. We moved forward one row. Same thing happened. By this point we were annoying a few locals and becoming 'those guys'. But honestly, who doesn't try to get away from seats with a post between them and the mound?
The joke was on the grumpy types who objected to our attempts to emancipate ourselves from restricted view slavery when 2.5 innings into my career as a Sox fan I got a foul ball. It came into our section, landed in the aisle, and rolled past my crappy seat as a bunch of butter fingered dudes clamored for it. I just reached down and picked it up. I'll probably never get anywhere near a ball at a game for the rest of my life.
Later in the game, when almost the entire section behind us had emptied, we moved again. But we had the misfortune to randomly sit in our doochey Wazzu friend's seats while he was at the concession stand. Rather than ask us to move down a few seats he immediately called security, who returned us from the three rows of unoccupied space back behind the infernal pillar.
The view was a little better from the outfield on my second visit.
The game was also incredible, with about 800 hits and several dozen runs. Even better, all the Kansas City scoring madness commenced after the former Atlanta Braves legend, starting pitcher John "I refuse to age" Smoltz, had left the game at the end of five innings.
Michael Wood was in town from Fort Worth, largely to visit Fenway and generally have a rocking time. Which I think we managed to do, despite the pain he felt at seeing Smoltzy in a foreign uniform.
Or you could just knock your stadium down, build another one and slap 'new' on its name. Genius move Yankees. What's next? New Notre Dame stadium anyone? That thing's junk.
Sox fans are a very committed bunch.
Call security. This dood has hi-jacked your blog, Laura! First he sits in other peoples seats at ball games, then he starts writing all over other people's blogs. How rude - there's no stopping him!
ReplyDeleteSeriously, Samuel... your contributions are amusing & its good to see where you've been spending the summer, whilst your wife fends of floods at your house! (Did the waters retreat, Laura?)