"Nation" Building in Baltimore
By Karlsie
"There's definitely a Red Sox Nation out there," my son, Mr. Pi (that's pi as in 3.14 not pie as in "I'll have the apple pie with vanilla ice cream") stated and I can honestly add that last night there was a fair amount of its citizens in Camden Yards.
We've been staying at one of these suite-style hotels - you know the sitting room with the pull out sofa and kitchenette with an adjoining bedroom that has two queen beds and free breakfast buffet. Perfect for business types that need to spread out and families who don't want to be cramped with kids everywhere rather than pay for a second room. At breakfast over the past couple of days we've been seeing more and more Red Sox hats, t-shirts and sweatshirts. I've met families from Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts and Connecticut who have doubled up on school vacation and the Sox-O's match up in Baltimore.
Last night, I taught my Pi-guy about keeping score. I've tried before but he's now 13 and has the patience for it. I bought the unofficial program for $2 outside the park — a habit I developed after the Sox raised their price years ago and changed around the score card placement so you had to deal with the ads and the baseball underground responded with a real score card for a buck. As they say: don't wait for the wind to change, be the wind and change direction. Guys like the baseball underground and sites like this have been doing just that.
Of course in Baltimore, the unofficial program has the "Baseball for Morons" score card. No place to record pitches or subtleties, only the basic spreadsheet style: big boxes and a couple of lines to record things like attendence, game start/end/time and so forth. I know there are those who argue there is more creativity with a blank sheet of paper. but then I'd pull a Stephen King and score in the back of books I'm reading while watching the game. No, I want a score card that does a bunch of the work for me and I'll manipulate it from there. On the other hand, the simpler card worked for teaching purposes.
I showed Pi how to draw the diamond and arc diagram that shows player positions my oldest brother taught me decades ago. I originally started recording pitches but going to a game with my husband and kids isn't conducive to that - in fact, as a result of explaining to my engineer of a husband about how an ERA is calculated and why you want a low one - I missed the balk called on Chen. He kept asking why I keep score when I go to games when I don't do anything with them. The only answer I really have is because, like Sir Edmund Hillary, I can.
Also I take notes in the blank boxes. For example, in the first inning I have noted next to Millar's name, "Beer in plastic bottles in the stand - who knew?" Across the first two innings next to the Surhoff, Matos, Gill spots in the order I have: "How does it feel to hear "Let's go Red Sox" echoing through your home park?" A counter note in the 5th next to Tejada is "They just can't get noise going for the O's."
Because the oldest has to go back to Boston early to work and finish up a couple of her papers for her senior classes, my husband leaves the park with some of the kids at the end of the 7th to find the Amtrak station - leaving just me and Mr. Pi.
In the 8th I called my sister-in-law back in Boston to tell her about our seats, she tells me you can hear "Let's Go Red Sox" chanting on the TV throughout the game. As the saddened O's fan began retreating to beat traffic, Pi and I started sneaking down into the field seats from section 69. I have to do this surreptitiously as one of the ushers took an immediate dislike to me when we came in. I can tell he's keeping his eye on me as we start down the first time and I have to feign pausing to watch the play by the entryway with my son until he's distracted - then we walk over a few sections and start moving down. Each time we end up next to more Sox fans, finally ending up a few rows from the field - the closest he's ever been to a professional game.
As the players are changing up to start the 9th, people start chanting, "Its all over" and I silence Pi.
"Honey, you've been spoiled in your short lifetime," I tell him. "These are the Sox, they could blow it in the 9th and have people talking about the best game ever tomorrow." I tell him about how the '67 Sox turned things around and how that had to hold me until '75 and '78 and '86. I ask him, "in your lifetime, how many times have they come close and won it?"
"A lot," he replies.
"That's my point. By the time I was your age, I only had '67."
In the end, we won 8-0 and Pi repeatedly thanked me. He thanked me for buying him a Sox cap so he wouldn't have to wear the Yankee Haters one. He thanked me for taking him to the game and sneaking up so he could see it close up for once. He thanked me for a good time and all that sort of stuff.
I fear though that he has finally turned into one of the most pathetic creatures on earth: a Sox fan, just like his mom.
