|We have two package deals for Red Sox tickets, which means that we usually sit around the same people at games in a specific ticket package. Last night, for the second time this season, I hung out with my buddy Nate. |
He's four years old, and his dad takes him to about eight games a year at Fenway Park. Nate is obsessive about his team. He knows what players wear what numbers, and he can pronounce even the toughest names almost perfectly. Nate's obsessiveness does not end with the Red Sox, however.
The first game we were at he managed to get a hand on one of the beach balls that was bouncing around in the outfield. From that point on, and and for the next six innings, all he could talk about was getting another beach ball, hitting a beach ball, and where the beach balls were right now.
He'll ignore the game completely and focus instead on the handful of beach balls circulating around the bleachers. When one gets anywhere close to us, he pretty much loses it and starts yelling about how much he hopes that we get one to hit. He'll sit there and point across the field, all the way to the third base line seats and talk about how there's a ball down there, and that MAYBE it will come all the way around the stadium to us.
When we finally got a ball or two, BJ or I held it up for him to hit--something he did so quickly that we were usually still in mid-sentence telling him to hit the ball by the time it was five rows away. He just couldn't wait.
When I told him that we had one more game in those seats, in September, and that my friends and I want to bring a bunch of beach balls to that game, his eyes opened wide and he leaned over to me, whispering "and you could bring one for ME?!"
Originally uploaded by travtufts.
Labels: Boston Red Sox