Modern-day Commentary
There’s not a lot of note going on with this one. Pretty straight-forward. I remember some elements of this experience, but much more about the day itself and less about the game. I remember being dropped off at George’s workplace so that he could drive me to their house to leave again for the evening game. That was probably the most memorable part of it all, because it was so weird. I wish I knew now where he had worked, because with my adult knowledge of geography in place, I can’t imagine it would have made more sense than just being dropped off at their house. It was some sort of a warehouse. On the way to their home he pointed out a place where he’d seen a few old men sitting on rocking chairs once. It had reminded him of the Bartles and Jaymes ads, which I wasn’t familiar with at the time, so I just nodded politely, I’m sure.
But boy, did they do it up right, huh? I can’t imagine what a program, yearbook, Coke, and popcorn would set you back now at Fenway Park, plus we went out for more refreshments which, apparently, took two innings to retrieve.
Boy, doesn’t it show how inconsequential your average baseball game is? The first few paragraphs are all about the event itself, the money expended for the experience, and then when you get right down to it, this was a baseball game in the first month of the season, where a 34-year-old outfielder scored the game’s only run on a passed ball. The snack bar run was of more importance to me. Must be that way for a lot of kids who aren’t quite fans of the sport. I’ve mentioned before that sports are pretty funny in that you concentrate all your energy in the hopes that fully one-half of the participants will have a “bad day at the office”. As someone who watches only championship sporting events, it seems so hard to believe that there are people who enjoy annually watching 162 baseball games for their favorite team. Not me.
The Primary Source
Primary Source
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Rick Seaholm
English
April 2, 1990
Mr. Luzi
The bright light s glared in my eyes, the hot dogs filled my nose with a beautiful aroma, and the roar of screaming fans drove deep into my ears. It was Tuesday evening of April vacation, 1987. I was entering Fenway Park in Boston for the first time in my life , where the reigning American League Champion Boston Red Sox were due to face the Kansas City Royals. I went with our family’s friends the Churchills . Jimmy, George and Cathie.
As I sat down in my seat on the third base line, I placed my program,
yearbook, coke and popcorn on the seat beside me. While waiting the opening pitch of the game I stared dumbfounded at the autographed picture of three-time batting champ, Wade Boggs, which I got at about 5:00 in the afternoon during batting practice .
It was about time for the ball game to begin and suddenly the batting
order appeared on the screen in deep right field. The game was pretty boring until the sixth inning when Jim Rice scored on a passed ball. Then during the 7th inning stretch Jimmy and I decided to go get some refreshments. We got lost and when we got back to our seats the game was almost over. The score was 1-0 and the Boston Red Sox had won.