Sunday, May 19, 2013

The PawSox vs The Durham Bulls

5/4/13 08:51 Stoughton, MA

I wanted to write for a few minutes since I will be leaving this town to pick up Mo Cheeks and bringing her home.  Her school year is over and we are all looking forward to having her back in our daily lives.  I’m curious how the bomb experience impacted her.  Yesterday I left Port Jeff around 12:00 and made it to Pawtuckett Rhode Island to see the Paw Sox take on the Durham Bulls.  On the way up I hit traffic just after Stamford, but I gave myself enough time. I was in Bridgeport by two and was set to be at McCoy Stadium at 5 PM.  On the way up I saw a terrible accident, what appeared to be a minivan that crashed in the woods.  A Helicopter was parked, motionless on the highway.  A cherry picker was trying to hook up the van since it ran up a hill and was deep within the trees.  Yellow plastic bags were laid out on the ground, were their bodies in there?  Then again I noticed ambulances heading West earlier, maybe they carried the passengers, then why the helicopter?  Traffic was at a standstill, cars were parked on 95, the drivers and passengers were out, one man climbed up a hill in hopes to see ahead of the cars, but he was too far back. A minivan with kids had their windows open and small heads craned to see the devastation and violence that occurred.  Keep moving.  You’re too young to see it.  I made it to Pawtucket and thought I’d have a couple of hours to kill, but the game started a little after six.   You drive through the small city to get to the stadium and can easily get lost.  Free parking till it fills up.

 I bought a ticket from a scalper for 10, in the green section.  I was inside the historic stadium early enough to watch the ground keepers, sweep around the batter’s box so there was not a foot print anywhere, the surface was smooth like brown ice.  I sat with a family.  The dad sold the ticket to the scalper who sold it to me.  The wife said I looked liked someone she knew.  I have one of those common faces except for my Roman nose.  That makes an indelible impression.  She agreed.  The grandmother wanted to share popcorn with me, really nice people, but I sat next to the father a big guy around my age with a booming voice who cared less about the game and more about the beer.  Before the game some players sign autographs, the fans place balls and cards in empty milk jugs that are tied to string and lower it down to the player.   It was a cold night and difficult to see the game with the glare of the setting sun.  The Sox won the game.  I got a foul ball and I made it to the hotel in about a half hour.  Time for a beer. 

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