Months and months before I became pregnant my husband and I, along with an awesome group of firefighters and their wives from his department, decided to purchase some tickets to a Red Sox/Yankees game. Neither Shawn or I had been to Fenway. I've been to various games at Camden Yards in Baltimore and several farm team games back home, but never experienced the rivalry of these two teams up close and personal. There was no way I was going to miss it, even being as pregnant as I am now.
The trip began late in the morning for an evening game. A group of us firemen and wives were taking a tour bus down as part of our ticket package. Shawn and I were the only ones who had never been to Fenway out of our group. In fact, we had never even been to Boston. So, when the bus pulled into the city we were glued to the windows, staring at all the town houses and cityscape.
We arrived at Fenway and were inundated with people, thousands of people, who were all wearing three colors... red, white, or blue with various numbers and players names smattered on the back (except, apparently, the guy in the middle of the photo with a hat that resembles what my grandfather wore and a yellow shirt sent solely to disprove my previous sentence).
For the first time in a blue moon I actually wore the correct type of shoe for such an occasion as well! Since I only fit into two pairs of shoes, a pair of sneakers and flip flops, I chose to not wear open toed shoes where so much walking was involved. Bless my soul, and my soles, for thinking ahead!
We decided to find our seats early and then set out and explore afterward knowing where our butts were to reside. Now let me tell you something about those seats... they are not made for very pregnant women. Shocker, I know. But seriously, they are the least comfortable seats I've sat in during this entire pregnancy. Plastic that makes your legs sweat. Leg room that is so scarce you fear developing a thrombosis due to venous stasis. Not to mention I kept dropping everything and to hell if I can bend over at this point. Shawn spent a lot of time fetching things and then complaining about it.
After shopping for some souvenirs, which Shawn bought a hat and I bought the baby a pink Red Sox onesie, we purchased some outstanding ball park food. Shawn had the most expensive Coors Light I've ever heard of at $8 a pint while I enjoyed a $4 lemonade. The ball park food definitely lived up to its name.
When the game started I realized something important... our seats sucked. For the money we paid we were way out in the out field. Our seats faced the other part of the outfield rather than the plate, which was awkwardly to our far left. Oh, and I couldn't see, because of the monstrous men sitting a row in front of me. That meant I spent the entire game in an awkward, left facing position in the narrow seats trying to see over the huge guys in front of me while being kicked internally by my baby.
...not like I am complaining or anything.
Ok. Maybe a little.
We did pay a good bit of money for this trip after all.
Despite the downside of the seats the atmosphere of the game was great. Nothing beats actually being at a ball park even if you can't really see the game and are uncomfortable. The fans yelling, clapping, and cheering. Beach balls flying through the crowd for a few moments before security confiscated them. Vendors carrying all types of food down the aisles and yelling in thick Boston accents-- watah! Get ya watah heeah!
It was actually a great time. The best part was how much Shawn enjoyed himself. Seeing him so excited to experience Fenway and a major league ball game for the first time made my night. Now he is researching how much tickets cost for other games in better seats.
For now I won't remind him that in a few weeks we will be occupied with things other than trips to Fenway.
And to end the night we got to celebrate a home team win, even though I really have no allegiance to the Sox being from a deeply rooted Orioles fan family the cheers and clapping in the last inning of the game was loud enough to make my baby deaf inside the womb. Nothing beats Boston fans.
Actually, nothing beats a ball game with your husband on a hot summer evening.