Tuesday, July 27, 2004

Fung Wah to Fenway

Here's your man in the field again, a couple days late but chock full of good nuggets to share.  I was up in Boston last weekend, a weekend where everything seemed to go wrong and the odds were stacked against me in a real "Old Testament" fashion.  And still, my maiden trip to Fenway to watch the Yanks and Sox was as good as it could of been.  More on that later...

En route to Boston on the Fung Wah, aka the "no, seriously, who's dead body is in the luggage hold?" express, I get a call from Handstand telling me that my buddy Witzy, who is scheduled to go to the game with me Friday night, is in the hospital...with a Giambi-esque leg infection.  And how did he get this infection?  Sliding into third in a beer league softball game between sets of accountants...on an infield so notoriously unkempt that LandRover commercials are filmed between innings.  Could the stakes have been any lower?  No.  For chissakes, Handstand, the Round Mound of Rebate, was on Witzy's team.  Was he safe at third?  Yes.  Would he trade that triple for a stand-up double and a chance to see Yanks/Sox at Fenway for the first time?  I'd have to think so.

So with one friend layed-up in the raspberry ward, I turn my attention and very valuable second ticket to others.  Handstand?  Nope, his mom and the captain are in town.  Zebra?  Chick back from Europe today.  Anyone else?  No takers.  With the DNC moving into Boston the next week, it appeared that my friends' testicles decided to head off to the Cape for the weekend.  So I had to go to Fenway, wearing my Matt Nokes #38 jersey and my Yankees cap, BY MYSELF!

And really, it was awesome.  I traded my two tickets in the bleachers, where Boston fans rub out Yanks fans sitting by themselves like David Cone on a long day in the bullpen, and moved up to about even with first base.  There were reasonably nice people around me who, I'm sure, secretly hated me.  And that's ok.  Cause I secretly hated them too.  I read a story in the Times Magazine recently about a guy who works as a civilian contractor in Iraq who jogs through Baghdad.  Sure, he's obviously a masochistic idiot (plus isn't it really fuckin hot there?  shell out for the treadmill, buddy), but I could sympathize with him on Friday night.  Going to get a beer meant having eyes all around my head.  Was that shoulder bump on purpose?  Are they fixing to pull my pants down while I'm using Fenway's better than expected bathrooms?  Is that brown man going to shout Islamic platitudes while lopping off my head on the Internet?  It was unsettling.

But at my seat, all was OK, except for when Flash struck out Poppy and I stood up, fist-pumped, and got a wad of soggy paper thrown at my head.  Other than that, I was fine.  I even stood and cheered from Gary's 1st inning shot over the Monster to A-Rod's GWRBI double off the monster in the 9th.  The Fenway Faithful were shocked and dismayed, saying things to me like, "You're just better" and "We suck".  Seriously, I've never seen such a disheartened bunch of pansies.  Please, as things stand right now, the Sox would run over the Yanks in the playoffs cause of pitching.  I mean, you could chew the air on Friday.  It was hard to see the lights on the other side of the field.  Schilling didn't have it and he melted.  That won't happen in October.  Yet these fans were so defeatist about that whole thing that I felt obligated to say things like, "See you in the playoffs."  I'm sure everything was different the next day when pansy-ass Varitek lunged at A-Rod while still wearing his mask.  I'm sure I would have been torn limb from limb.  But when you beat one of the top starters and closers in the same night and weather 3 dongs from Lame-Ass Millar, you get to see the true nature of Sox fans: Neurotic.

So my Fenway recap: The seats are tiny.  They face the wrong way.  From my seat 30 rows back of 1st base I was staring straight ahead at the luxury boxes down the right field line.  No roving beer vendors...this sucks cause you have to get up every 20 minutes and make everyone stand up and turn sideways so you can get a beer from downstairs.  But everything else was great: bathrooms were good, Fenway Franks were delicious, beers were much cheaper than at Yankee, and the area around the park seemed pretty cool too, lots of bars I didn't go to cause my friends have no nuts and did not come to the game with me. 

So there's Fenway, a great place to see...and sit with...a bunch of losers by yourself.


3 Comments:

At 12:16 PM, Blogger Jason Mulgrew said...

Jesus - so disappointed in Handstand and Zebra. Muldoon surely would have gone, if he had not been sulking all weekend (he is very depressed right now).

 
At 12:23 PM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

If a David Cone in the dugout reference can't cheer ya up, Jason, I think all hope is lost. I could be at the mass funeral for everyone I know, if someone talks to me about David Cone and his masturbated pecker I'll genuinely laugh like a little girl...

Fiedler, do people in Boston still use the term "BoSox" at all? Where did that go?

Ace Cowboy Up.

 
At 11:11 AM, Blogger jakezebra said...

Although definitely not worth it, I would like to point out as a direct observer that Witz's slide was textbook, and in addition was photographed and documented by the Houghton-Mifflin Company. The caption under the published picture is to read, "He is truly a Witz-kreig on the basepaths."

 

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