Thank God I didn't leave the Flatiron Sports Bar back in San Rafael at the 7th inning stretch. My bill had been taken care of, the good tip to one of my new most favorite waitresses
still waited for her to pick up.
My mind was wondering about how hard it was to just ignite, where was the kindling, where was the fire? What happened to the Sox. Dead in the water. I didn't think it was a good move to bring Papelbon in the top of the seventh. I thought it was a no-win situation.. He can't pitch three innings. I thought I spoke my thoughts out loud and a Guy a table behind me disagreed. Who else is there? Well there was Masterson and the lefty I forget. Desperation. I see your point I said to my neighbor, I think everyone was a Red Sox fan there maybe except the Bartender who was an Angels fan A nice guy thank god I wasn't around to see the pain and suffering for the Guy during that series.
Let's step back in time... on the first day of the Virginia State Fair I was checking the place out and there was one booth filled with apparel, shirts, hats, belt buckles, extremely colorful stand and the most extremely colorful Tie Dye sports shirts I had ever seen. There was this Red Sox shirt it was undeniably - awesome. It cost $30, I held back. Maybe it was too bold for me. Maybe I was just holding on to my money til pay day. So ten days of the fair came and went and I caught some of the Angels Red Sox series. Sunday the last day of the fair 10-5-08
, I missed the game on TV where the Angels came back and took 1 from the Sox at Fenway. The last day of the fair and somehow I didn't get my ass over to pick up that shirt. I think I was wussing out. Who me? Wearing anything that wild? So that Monday AM the whole fair is being dismantled and I am making the last rounds of picking up the foul waste vegetable oil that would at some future time be converted into pristine B100 (100% biodiesel). The Angels had won the night before and lo and behold... the shirt stand hasn't packed up yet. 'Cmon Guy take a stand will you, you punk!' I say to myself. Still working on the ability to always say good things to myself. 'Hey you still got that Red Sox shirt?'
Done deal. I wore it that night and watched the Sox close out the Angels.
The shirt does not have supernatural powers ... or does it? Heck no.
The first game of the series I wore the shirt. Sweet. At the Abbey Tavern the upper west side near Columbia great night. Then Saturday no wear shirt, stay up to 1AM after exhausting day
at Greenmarket UNion Square, go t bed thinking Sox were not going to win. They lose.
Two days later I didn't even get to see a game. Both horrible losses. Back in California at 5PM
PST I decide I might as well (Might as well, Might as Well) wear the shirt and go grab some good beer and hope that fine waitress is working the Flatiron.
So anyways the shirt picks up a comment. 'The Red Sox and The Grateful Dead' someone says.
I think to myself well I can go back to my new apartment in a San Rafael flophouse, weekly rates, bathroom down the hall, after the game and change shirts and then walk the last few minutes of the farmer's market. Maybe you'll wear your shirt proudly even if they lose I am thinking (IPA kicking in). Anyways the bottom of the seventh came and the rest is history.
And the world became increasingly surrealistic as high fives with White Sox fans and people buying me more beer. I visualized really strongly Pedroia walking and loading the bases for Papi.. It didn't happen. The Man from Woodland Ca. slapped a single into the outfield. 7-1 woohoo finally Fenway comes alive.. he rest is history. The beautiful young blonde who sits next to me actually she didn't know what she was doing because I was out of my seat, when she took her seat, the rest is history. So I coolly got back in my chair, with my new company next
door and before like 20 minutes ago, there I was/am congratulating the Rays and now I completely know this game is for the Sox. Talking about how the Rays can taste the World Series in their mouth I was saying they (the young Rays) were like a pack of hounds joyously chasing their prey up a tree (tired old Red Sox). But what happened.. Of course my ears perk up when I hear my new neighbor(s). The girl friend toasts her blond friend (but was she really blond? who cares!) happy birthday! But hey she's a few days early on the toast. Tuesday!?
'Hey your birthday's Tuesday?!' So's mine. We exchange Driver's licenses. High Fives. Destiny I am thinking. Wow! JD Smashes home run somewhere in there more high Fives. My blond and her friend want to buy me another drink. Some kind of shot glass gets dropped into a pint of beer maybe a half glass all I know is tasted fine going down and I marveled at how beautiful the empty shot glass and empty beer mug looked for one millisecond as it was raised up the lights of the bar shone through and everything sparkled. The rest was History.
(Elsa/Getty Images NYTimes)
The Sox won as you all know well. I don't know where the girls went. I made it home to my new digs and decided it wasn't a good idea to get on my bike and ride to Fairfax. I am So-o-o-o tired today. I better have that shirt ready for the weekend.
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