Fenway, Or, Manuel Ramirez

The second to last day of work, Andrew and I took a lunch break at Fenway Park, which is a little over a 5 minute walk from the MHS.  We had to take a tour of the place to see it, as tickets are sold out through next year. 

This is the green monster, one of the most recognizable symbols in baseball.  If you want to sit in the seats on top of it, you have to enter a lottery to have the CHANCE to buy the seats. Sports Illustrated listed these seats as the #1 place to sit before you die, and we got to as part of the tour.  They say if you sit here, you get to come 2 hours early and catch practice balls that the players will inevitably hit your direction. 

Another part of the tour was that you get to go in the press box and see what the writers see.  This is Andrew, sitting in the front row, which is reserved for veteran reporters. The second row is for out-of-town and local press -- rookies, mostly -- and the back row, our guide said, was saved for New York newspeople. Ha, ha.

These Budweiser seats are known as the "lucky" seats. They were built in 2004 when the Sox won the world series, breaking that 80-something year curse.  These have to be part of a lottery too, and if your name is chosen, you can win the opportunity to buy 4 ticketed seats at a table near the Budweiser bar. That means you also get your own waiter/waitress and bathroom in your section.  These group tickets cost $440! To me, if you can afford to sit here, you can afford to sit in one of those swanky boxes with leather seats. But I must not be an aficionado. 

When we left the stadium, I told Andrew that I'd decided to be a Red Sox fan.  Andrew, an avid Yankees enthusiast, frowned at me. But he appeared more puzzled than disappointed.  "You don't care about baseball," he challenged. "Name one Red Sox player. Then, you can be a Red Sox fan." I thought for a minute -- this was a test I really wanted to pass.  "Papi," I said confidently. I had seen his name on a poster inside the stadium.  And, as a bonus to up my credibility, I added, "Manuel Ramirez."  There was no talking to Andrew after that, who dissolved into stomach-shaking laughter and immediately had to call his brother to share the news.  "What?" I said. "Isn't his name Manuel?"