The summer of Sox games begins

May 14

May 14 The summer of Sox games begins

My roommate and I went to our first Red Sox match of the season tonight. Living in Kenmore Square has few perks aside from convenience, but the start of baseball season converts the dreary transportation hub into an incubator, where a sludge of Sox fans become charged with sports-related electricity.

I'm not a huge fan of American sports, but I'm trying to see every one of Boston's major teams play before I graduate. So far I've seen: the Red Sox. That's it. I'm not very far along with this idea. And tonight was my third time seeing the Red Sox, so I'm wasting my sporting time on the same damn sport. And it's by far the slowest.

At least it gives you plenty of time to take photos of Fenway Park.

The game started promisingly, with the Sox scoring five runs in the second inning.

The guy in front of us really enjoyed punching the air. And Travis Shaw gave him a reason, with a bomb into the center field bleachers.

Unfortunately the Sox lost. As did anybody not equipped with a handy trash bag, as the weather was miserable all night.

These braves souls paid good money for these seats, and were going to use them.

We struck lucky finding some empty seats behind home plate, under the canopy of the stadium, nobody ended up claiming, so we stayed dry.

Bases loaded,  Hanley Ramirez took a swing at it. — Bases loaded, Hanley Ramirez took a swing at it.

We got up for a wander about the stadium toward the end of the game. I wanted to see some other angles of the park. Harris took us down the first base line, and sat us in front of some very drunk biddies who were quite enthusiastic in their offer to give me a back massage.

Harris, during a particularly rousing chorus of 'Sweet Caroline'.

I enjoy big events like sports matches. Seeing so many people in one place reminds me of what a truly staggering number of people there are existing in the world, each brimming with unique experiences, worldviews, and value systems. Deep for a game where men hit balls with sticks, I know.

The final pitch of the game went to Big Papi, and everyone crowded around the field.

I can't mention sports without bringing up Leicester City. I didn't believe Trump could be president of the USA until Claudio Ranieri's men pulled this off. A Trump presidency was always more possible. Roll on Championship Sunday. I'll be in front of a screen, in my bathrobe.

I was, however, wearing clothes to Fenway, including my new sneakies (I know I'm white, I just love Master of None), New Balance's 891 high-tops. They're a collaboration with J.Crew, and I think the silhouette and grey suede are brilliant. Also, made in America, so shoutout to that New England economy.