Rotorglow

Most of you know I'm merely a casual Red Sox fan. I'll root for them unless they're playing my favorite double-A team, the Phillies, but I have to rely on friends for the scoop, the skinny, the lowdown. So, with all that said, I'm pretty lucky to have gone to the Sox game tonight, and watch a slugfest end with another batch of heroics by David Ortiz. And I'm smart enough to know how lucky I am, and that some of you life-long Sox fans are probably cursing an infidel like me.

The tix came to me from a friend at work, and I was second in line. So that I got them at all was pretty lucky. The seats were pretty great--a box, above first base--so that was pretty lucky too, because they could have been standing-room or some-such. The night was perfect--warm, not humid yet--so that was a nice bonus, because it could have been rainy, or sweltering...like the games later this week. There are bigwigs up in the box, talking about Aramark and so on, and I get stung by a yellow jacket on the way up the ramp (I don't remember the last time that happened, and it sucks), but the view and a cold, fresh Heineken (*cough*) help with that. There are hot dogs and more beer.

And things go back and forth. Hits everywhere. The runs are piling up like a co-ed restaurant-league game. The Sox are on the short end of the score as a couple of rallies fizzle. And then in the bottom of the ninth, Sox down by two, with two on and one out, Papi comes up, and it's like everyone expects him to do something amazing. Every time. I've seen it on TV a bunch of times, of course (this past Saturday, most recently), and it's always pretty wild, but when you're there, and everyone's on their feet, it's extra cool. And so what does he do?

He goes deep, of course. For the second time in the game. Game over. Pandemonium.

And even though I'm purely a situational Sox fan, I'm into it too, high-fiving the guys in front, chanting MVP. Watching his post-game chat in front of the dugout. Noticing how nobody wants to leave. And I finally realize what a lot of people already know: that it's easy to get caught up in the moment at Fenway (like the Palestra), and think that heroics happen every day.