The thing about “Futures at Fenway” is that you are looking forward and back all at the same time.
Looking forward, you get to watch two games, featuring some of the future Red Sox stars – guys who are currently playing for Portland Sea Dogs and the Pawtucket Red Sox, the team’s minor league affiliates. Hopefully, some day soon, we’ll be seeing a few of these guys playing in the bigs. (If one or two of them can pitch middle relief, even better – but that’s a story for another day.)
And looking back? Well, you get to feel like a kid again, as the photo here shows so nicely.
I know I told you that Jeff and I live very un-glamorous lives. Most of the time that’s true, but on Friday night we had a taste of the good life.
First, we had a delicious dinner in the fancy pants restaurant, overlooking the field at Fenway Park. Dinner was even more delicious with this amazing tableware. Can you imagine if that china pattern was available when we were completing the bridal registry 14 years ago!
Then, we moved to our fancy pants seats, which were right next to this guy!
So I put up my feet, ordered an overpriced glass of wine, or should I say cup of wine, and enjoyed a great game. My red shoes and I had a wonderful time.
That was one quick, quick post-season, blink and you missed it. Ah well, as much as I wanted to relive the thrill, anxiety and joy of last season, I knew in my heart it was not meant to be.
Readers who find this blog by clicking “Red Sox” in my blogger profile will be disappointed by the lack of baseball content here. You won’t find a play-by-play recap after each game, telling you who hit a towering blast over the green monster, who made a tremendous spiderman-like grab in right field, or who was throwing a blazing fastball and making the opponents look silly. I leave that to the many superb baseball bloggers out there.
I may not give you game details, but I can tell you why I love it. It slows me down. It takes my mind off of the never-ending stress, demands, and deadlines that fill up my days. It moves slowly. I can knit a sock, talk to my husband, and watch a game all at the same time. It’s like an old friend. Beginning in early spring as the equipment trucks roll out of Fenway through the slushy streets of Boston headed south for City of Palms Park – all the way to the start of October, as the leaves are showing the first signs of gold and red, I can look forward to listening to the antics (and brilliance) of Jerry and Don, watching the heroics of Papi and ‘Tek, admiring the understated, exceptional athleticism of Bill Mueller, and just rooting along for my team.
Last year was tremendous, unbelieveable, majestic. But this year was a joy too, despite the way it ended. I can’t wait for it to start again. (Only 130 days til pitchers and catchers report.) In the meantime, let’s go Angels.