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...is that it's a summer sport, so that you don't have to sit there and freeze through the whole game like those silly football fans.
That's the theory, anyway.
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jwg has written about our road trip to western Massachusetts and eastern New York earlier this week, and others in the northeast will have noticed the remarkably summer-like weather we had here on Tuesday and Wednesday; so there we were walking around these various camps' grounds in T-shirts, enjoying the warmth and listening to the chirping of birds, and even maybe getting a little bit of sunburn.
Then we came home, and headed to our first Red Sox game of the season, which was tonight. Official gametime temperature (at 6:05 PM): 33F. Did someone say "summer sport"?
Fortunately, the game was played fairly briskly, coming in at just under two and a half hours. Even more fortunately, the Sox won 6-0, Pedro was fine, and the bullpen didn't do anything scary.
Tomorrow we go back again. It's supposed to be a little warmer.
Oh, and one more note about that road trip: whose brilliant idea was it to send I-84 right through the middle of Hartford, with 10 exits in the space of 5 miles or less, and absolutely no way to avoid it? (Not that arranging our departure so that we would hit Hartford at 5:30 was so brilliant, either.)
That's the theory, anyway.
jwg has written about our road trip to western Massachusetts and eastern New York earlier this week, and others in the northeast will have noticed the remarkably summer-like weather we had here on Tuesday and Wednesday; so there we were walking around these various camps' grounds in T-shirts, enjoying the warmth and listening to the chirping of birds, and even maybe getting a little bit of sunburn.Then we came home, and headed to our first Red Sox game of the season, which was tonight. Official gametime temperature (at 6:05 PM): 33F. Did someone say "summer sport"?
Fortunately, the game was played fairly briskly, coming in at just under two and a half hours. Even more fortunately, the Sox won 6-0, Pedro was fine, and the bullpen didn't do anything scary.
Tomorrow we go back again. It's supposed to be a little warmer.
Oh, and one more note about that road trip: whose brilliant idea was it to send I-84 right through the middle of Hartford, with 10 exits in the space of 5 miles or less, and absolutely no way to avoid it? (Not that arranging our departure so that we would hit Hartford at 5:30 was so brilliant, either.)
