OVAH THE MONSTAH
September Call-Ups:
where previously Molly wondered what to do with her Nomar shirt...
Andy only has 2 cousins. This is mind blowing to me because I have more 3rd cousins than he has overall. So when one of them invited us to their wedding in September of 2004, you knew that we had to be there. Andy's family events are always a blast and group vacations are even more fun. The only problem was that our 6 game Red Sox ticket package that Andy had given me as a Christmas present included the final home game of the season, against the Yankees. And this game fell on the day after the wedding. Always one for a challenge, I found a flight leaving the very tiny airport we were staying near that would get us back in Boston before the afternoon game.
We were dodging hurricanes in Florida in 2004 so we were thankful that the bride & groom had a clear, warm, dry weekend with a beautiful sunset highlighting their oceanside vows. We made a ruckus at the reception as all good families should and continued the festivities back at the family beach house rental, topped off with my victorious wrestling match in the pool that my sister-in-law is still complaining about. In essence, we stayed up as late as possible.
I'm not sure if I have made it clear here before, but I am NOT a morning person. I will use those shampoo products with conditioner mixed in so I can sleep in an extra few minutes. I book flights that leave mid-afternoon - not the crack of dawn. And sleeping in is essential the day after a late-night wedding. But the Sox are so special to me that I broke all those rules in order to get to Fenway in time for first pitch.
We woke up at some ungodly hour and Andy managed to drag me out the door to our rental car at which point I discovered that sunrises are just as pretty as sunsets. Right on schedule we made our way to the tiny airport, letting the fresh air from the open convertible serve as our caffeine. But at some point along the way we realized that the tiny airport was MIA. Either someone had moved it over the weekend or we were lost.
Panic set in. I felt like one of those contestants on The Amazing Race, obliviously driving right past the airport and then frantically trying to make sense of the rental car map while making unsuccessful attempts to find a phone number for the airline at the tiny airport. We decided we had overshot everything and turned around hoping that we had enough time to overcome our mistake before the only flight that would deliver us to Boston in time for the game departed. Thankfully no one else is on the road on a Sunday at sunrise so we were able to make up good time.
If nothing else, this little exercise in misdirection made us wide awake. We found the airport, dropped the car off and appreciated the tiny airport's lack of terminals which made the dash to the flight gate non-existent. Passing through security I had to remove my sweatshirt and the guards were very entertained by my T-shirt which exclaimed that I supported 2 teams - the Red Sox and whoever beat the Yankees. They thought it was great and stopped me to show it to some other random employee. Just when I started to fear they would never release me they ushered me along with friendly pats on the back and we finally could settle on to our plane.
There were miraculously no flight delays and when we landed we made the mad dash to our car. Traffic tried to thwart us at every turn. Lots of clock watching and swearing ensued as we realized getting out of Florida wouldn't be our downfall - it would be the ever familiar Boston traffic. Such irony.
Lucky for us we live here so we were able to maneuver around the snarls and grab one of the last spots in a lesser known parking garage located steps from Fenway in my old college neighborhood. We had just enough time for Andy to grab a sausage from the vendors outside and made it to our section with no time to spare. Exhausted, we collapsed into our seats which had never felt so welcoming - even though they contained splinters, were too narrow, provided no leg room and faced the Wall instead of Home Plate. Then, and only then, were we able to fully appreciate the picture perfect day with blue sky, no clouds, Indian Summer temperatures and a Yankee beatdown.
next week, ANGELIC SWEEP, in which Molly gets a taste of Papi heroics...
1 comment:
I am amazed you were able to get there at all. I remember 2004, and it wasn't pretty. Three major hurricanes hit us full on, with a few others dancing around out there threatening us. Nobody could ever accuse you of not being loyal fans!
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