Last Saturday night I decided that I was going to ditch the books and go catch one last ball game with my brother before the season ends. The trip could have doubled for a roller coaster ride. We went and got chili dogs and fries, but the Red Sox were blowing out the Rays. Things were getting a little annoying as we sat and listened to some slack-jawed yokel in a Red Sox hat chanting incesintly for what seemed like hours (thank goodness he didn’t start singing about Caroline). About that time something happened that has never happened to me before; I won an autographed Carl Crawford hat in a drawing. They called my ticket number and then every one starting giving me high fives. On top of that Carlos Pena hit a monster Home Run that sent the BoSox fans packing. My brother and I were having quite a bit of fun at that point, most of which was at the expense of the Sox fans.
Unfortunately it was too good to last. The Rays blew it – if that was a surprise ending to you then you just haven’t been paying attention – and the only comfort I had was my new hat (this didn’t seem to soften the blow for my brother). I am not sure what I am going to do with my new hat, but at this point I am having fun just talking about my hat.