Last night, there were two of us. Two grown men, both in our late 40’s, hanging out to watch a game. We watched, and watched, and watched some more. Then more than 4 hours after we started watching the pre-game coverage, an eruption.
See, we decided that last night was the night to watch one game of this series, as our schedules conflicted with the other three games this weekend. So we gathered around dinner, the pre-game, and we watched. Now, I can’t say that we didn’t fight being tired, as we both probably nodded off for a few seconds here and there. But we persevered.
We did supplement our evening viewing with great conversation and much laughter. We even took turns, using our phones to share clips of different Norm MacDonald appearances on talk show TV, and then we also visited some classic Bob Uecker moments with David Letterman. So we had our fun, but the game, the game was always on.
Earlier in the game, joking at the Red Sox expense, we said, “Hey if the Sox don’t do anything by the 9th, then, only then, we’ll call it a night”. Last night proved to be reason number, I can’t count that high, why I love the Sox so much. And it confirmed again, why you just don’t ever leave a game early.
So, at 11:01pm and change, it happened. The ball rose quickly from the barrel of the bat, and we also rose from our seats. The collective, guttural roar of the masses was not lost on us, as we roared in my TV room without concern for who may have heard. The white sphere launched deep into the black night sky as a former Red Sox outfielder turned and did what we all did, he watched. As the ball landed deep in the center field bleachers, and yells accompanied with high-fives boomed all around Red Sox Nation, including my TV room, another Sox-Yankees game came to a close. For some reason, it felt like 2004 again, just for a moment. And I couldn’t help thinking that this was better than the fictitious 9th inning comeback depicted in Fever Pitch. Ahhh, four plus hours, how sweet it was. Boys will be boys, and we celebrated with roars and high-fives, and watched replays until our baseball appetites were met.