OK, now it’s Spring

Friday was a unique and fun day for me. I mean, it’s not every day you eat turkey sliders stuffed with brie and go see a Sox-Yankees game, but Friday was one of them. Now I’m not naming any names, but on this night I was the lone member of The Nation in a posse of Evil Empire do-ers headed to Fenway Park. Yeah, we play in a “pahk,” not a multi-billion dollar galaxy with cushy, twenty-six hunnret dollah empty blue seats. The ringleader, who I’ll refer to as “John,” even wore an “Evil Empire” tee-shirt adorned with that Gothic baseball logo that once struck fear in the heart of the Nation. Things started to get creepy on the cab ride into the city. While I chatted in the front seat with the cabbie about the Cup chances of the B’s, I swear I heard “John” and “Patty” giggling about when their “Joba the Nut” would plant a 97 MPH stitched saber in Kevin Youklis’s ear.

It’s just a beer before the game, right? Well, usually, except this mass-produced, blue aluminum cylinder manufactured to evil standards by a now Belgian behemoth corporate brewer didn’t meet “Jimmy’s” standards. Supposedly this guy knows something about canning, but I was stunned silent watching this maniac “friend of John,” eyes bulging, literally crushing the blue bud vase declaring, “No Yankee logo? It’s not evil enough!” OK… Into the park we go. I felt like Patty Hearst when she was a hostage and her SLA captors forced her to accompany them during an armed bank robbery. Little did I know that the four who ventured up from Mordor, NJ for the game had nice Section 12 seats, while the lone Sox fan was really there just to fetch beers for “John’s” sister, “Tanta” in the bleachers and listen to her drone on for 11 innings about how “Jeter doesn’t suck,” and “Posada doesn’t suck.” At one point, some no-name Yankee caught a popup and she again exclaimed, “that guy doesn’t suck.” When I suggested that hauling in “a can of corn” doesn’t exclude a ballplayer from suckage, “Tanta” ordered me to get her another beer.

That and several Yankee meetings on the mound was basically it for 8 2/3 innings. I mean it’s like these guys all have Blackberries in the infield and about every 3rd batter, Posada sends them all an Outlook invitation so they trot to the mound for another meeting. “Tanta” chuckled sarcastically at that one then ordered me to get her another beer. I’m happy to report I made her drink Sam Adams “Boston” Lager. Suddenly, like an evaporating 3-0 ALCS lead, Jason Bay launched the Millennium Falcon over “the Monstah” at the 379’ mark and a 4-2 Evil Empire lead was erased. The Nation joyfully erupted in a way that could only be eclipsed if they could see Dick Cheney waterboarded in the dirt by second base, but I digress…

Two innings later, Kevin Youklis, plotted against earlier in the evening, waterboarded Dick and drove the silver spike through the heart of the empire with a bomb onto Landsdowne Street and everybody jumped up and down at home plate. Just like Little League. After the game, I tried to get the out of towners into the new House of Blues, but when the doorman asked for ID’s, “Sue,” the last of the “Mordor Four” decided that laying down on the sidewalk would be a more efficient way to fish out her license from a sea of Yankee bobblehead dolls in her purse. It’s funny, but the Derek Jeter bobblehead looked smaller than the rest… Not sure what that was about… The doorman shot me a look that said, “Yankee fans?” I thought the Yankee logos they all were wearing pretty much told the story, but I just threw back the “oh yeah” eye roll and Mr. Doorman shut it on us. Still, I let “Sue” take the fall for the group. It was a great night, uh, well, you know, as fun as being with Yankee fans can be, and I owe “John” for the ducat. Thanks, “John.”

Anyway, I caught up the kids again Saturday afternoon and we reminisced about the game. It was about 4:00 and game 2 of the series was just starting on the TV behind us at Boston’s Black Rose. I told “Jimmy” and “John” that even though it was April, that might be the best game we see this year at Fenway. They agreed. Well, at least until the circus-like game 2 finished…