Yesterday I am putt-putt-puttering around in my backyard, illuminating all around me with the pale glow of fish-belly whiteness when I hear a pretty decent "whrrrrroooooooooaaarrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhh".
Mind you I live near two ballparks: Fenway Pahk and Fenway Pahk Junior (aka Jim Rice Field). I quite honestly thought that the "whrrrrroooooooooaaarrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhh" was coming from Fenway Pahk Jr.
Yep, I thought THAT kind of noise was coming from a Little League game. Is it even Little League season? Anyway, that is the noise of a sh*tload of Sawx fans going nuts and I could hear it from over here.
I swear to spirit that this year I am going to learn to understand baseball. Which might in turn get me to like baseball. I have gone to two games in my life - once when I was 17 with my Dad to watch the Sox lose to the Milwaukee Brewers, and once with friend where I promptly got tanked and still have very little recollection of the game. It could have been rained out for all I know.
But I sort of feel like having some working knowledge of baseball would be a good thing. It would give me something to talk about with 87% of the Boston population from April to October, possibly through November.
Wait, what does the infield fly rule mean again? Oh yeah, this is going to be a LONG summer.