Posts Tagged ‘Red Sox’

Let’s go Red Sox (clap, clap, clap-clap-clap)!

June 7, 2021

Is there anything better than seats on the first base line, in the early summer?

Hanging out with friends, good seats, frozen lemonades, sunglasses, goofy smiles, and that moment you learn you’re in the shade not the sun. Summer nights in the Woo!

Damage (good damage! baseball damage!) done.

October 29, 2018


Sweet baby jeebus, you did it! And in short order, too. I actually got to bed at a decent hour last night. (Well. Ish.)

It was beautiful. And I needed something beautiful. I needed happy smiles and goofy-ass grown men dogpiling all over my TV.

This morning I worked my smelly, hasn’t-been-washed-since-the-post-season Sox shirt into my dressy work suit for our Big Fall Muckity Muck Meeting, and tried to class it up with fancy earrings as best I could.


I stopped for Dunks and ordered a coffee regaluh. (And, sigh, yes, then I had to explain what that was. God bless.)


And this week with its full moon and the Big Fall MMM at ThePlaceThatShallNotBeDiscussed will be…whatever it is. But the thing is…I’m feeling nothing but joy!

My boys won, danced, and repeated right up to the evah-lovin’ end.

I am joyful, Boston.

And that is wicked awesome.

Top Ten Tuesday: Flashback edition!

August 23, 2016

Last week’s Top Ten Tuesday was themed “10 books about a place”, or something like that. First of all, can we discuss – there’s a theme that goes out?! I’m the dolt who thought everyone just picked their own theme, or saw something cool and piggy-backed. Apparently someone hosts and publishes a theme in advance. Brilliant!

Second of all, my dear friend Trish (I’m not picking, I swear) hoodwinked me into helping me think of some really good books set in Texas (Ruby by Cynthia Bond immediately came to mind). Of course I helped; I can’t resist any question about reading and books! And then that sneakypants wrote a post about books set in the BEST state: Texas! Which – no!! This is not the best state and I live here under protest! (Yes, yes, I’m going to be flooded with people who love it here. And that’s great! You can love it here! Keep living here! It’s just not a good fit for me and mine.) My (pretend) issue was that I contributed to such a list…uh, even though Trish hasn’t yet met read Ruby and didn’t use it for her list.

The point is that our banter challenged me to create a top-ten list of books from Massachusetts (although I reserve the “best state” moniker and twist it into a “best region” for New England because I simply can’t choose). So here’s my list. That I, um, came up with in 20 minutes after Trish asked. Yes, I’m ridiculous. (And well organized – I checked my New England list on Goodreads.)

I give you, in no particular order, my Top Ten Books set (at least partially in some cases) in Massachusetts:

Book175In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex, by Nathaniel Philbrick. You know I tend more towards fiction, but this book had already been on my radar when the movie trailer hit everyone’s screens. The fervor caught me, too – and for good reason, I realized, once I started the book. I’ve read a bunch of books by Philbrick – he’s a New England historian I especially admire. His facts are straight, his storyframing is solid, and his writing reads like fiction. I read this while away for vacation meeting Jeff’s parents and it was a welcome escape at times. Has to be a 5 of 5 stars book for that action alone!

Book176Shutter Island, by Dennis Lehane. I could have picked a couple of Dennis Lehane novels – he does love the Boston area. My original choice (a runner up, in fact) was Mystic River, which really captures the essence of Boston and its people so well. Lehane novels are gritty, but they’re good reads. He’s great at observing people and pinning them to paper. Shutter Island was another book I devoured before seeing the movie (with Kim, I believe) and it was creeeeepy as facking anything! Not something to read at night, alone, if you’re weak-hearted!

Book184All Souls: A Family Story of Southie, by Michael Patrick MacDonald. My sister Rhianyn kept going on and on about how I should read this, and so I finally picked it up at my used book store. It’s another non-fiction, a memoir this time, and once I started, I couldn’t put it down. Now – I’m not really from Boston. My sister Kim gives me crap all the time for identifying with it so strongly. I’m really from a much smaller city about 40 minutes east of Boston, just far enough outside its reach to not be considered a suburb (though it would be if the cities were here in Tejas). But no one writes stories about the Woo, and so I turn to stories about Boston – like this one. The people in All Souls remind me of the people in my hometown, and so I loved the book. The loyalty, the stubbornness, the contradictions, the poverty (although Southie has it way worse than my section of Worcester). It was hard not to root for the author and his family all the way through.

Book177Stronger, by Jeff Bauman (with Bret Witter).  The Boston Marathon has always been something that defined Boston. It’s one of the toughest and most elite marathons in the world of running. The survival stories after the  bombing at the finish line that occurred three years ago will define the residents of Boston for years to come. Our city repaired itself without a ripple, shrugging it off and running again as soon as the idiots were caught. The people who were hurt: not as easy. This memoir was written by one of the icons photographed that day, a man who lost both legs above the knee. It was a story I had to read, and one that I found honest, well-paced, and incredibly inspiring. It’s not for those looking for vicarious thrills in graphic medical or crime novels, but those looking for inspiration in how to keep on keeping on.

Book178Make Way for Ducklings, by Robert McCloskey. This Caldecott Medal winner not only has gorgeous drawings to keep children engaged in the story, it’s awfully fun to read to your children, especially if you’re missing home. Bonus points if you bring out your New England accent while reading the adventures of Mr. and Mrs. Mallard and their ducklings. [Bonus story: I read this book to my children so many times that when we needed to walk single file while out in public, I told them to “duckling up” – and they knew what I meant.]

Book17986 Years: The Legend of the Boston Red Sox, by Melinda Boroson. This is another kids book with warm, detailed drawings, but the real fun is the story behind the Red Sox first World Series win in…yes, 86 years. Gracie was just a few months old when the Red Sox did it, and yes, I stayed awake for every minute of every game, waaaaay into the early hours of the morning. Reading the book out loud – even to my too-old children, even to myself – still gets me choked up, every time.

Book180The Scarlet Letter, by Nathaniel Hawthorne. This is one of my favorite classics, the story of Reverend Dimmesdale and Hester Prynne in the wayback Puritan colony of Boston. And I mean waaaaay back. 17th century wayback. The romance of the story didn’t do it for me, it was the gothic feel almost, the way everyone seemed doomed and the drama was over the top. Feelings, man – they’ll ruin ya. But it will be extremely entertaining for those reading the story.

Book181Interpreter of Maladies, by Jhumpa Lahiri. I love all of Lahiri’s writing, but this was by far my favorite! Short stories that knit together, all of them filled with love and light and interesting musings far to clever for me to have imagined, and, yes, maladies of all sorts. The characters are rich, the writing richer – this is a collection not to be missed.

Book183Homecoming, by Cynthia Voigt. I re-read this series almost yearly. The story of four kids abandoned by their mom who has a mental breakdown while trying to drive them to the safety of a distant relative, the oldest daughter somehow walks the kids to Connecticut, improvising survival skills along the way. A gorgeous coming-of-age story and one about the value of family and knitting together in hard times. God, if you haven’t read it yet, I don’t know why. It’s certainly at the very top of this list.

Book182Boy, Snow, Bird, by Helen Oyeyemi. Ironically enough, even though I just explained that no one writes stories set in the Woo, um, this one is. At least, the beginning of the story is set there, and then moves on to a nearby suburb. The story itself is a spin on Snow White, a fantastic, wonderful, awesomely impactful story of the wicked stepmother as she inherits a stepdaughter, Snow White Whitman, who is beautiful and lovely and challenges Boy’s image of herself. Naturally, Snow gets shipped off to a distant aunt when Boy’s own daughter is born, but Bird is born dark-skinned, revealing that her parents have been passing all this time. The story is meaty and revelatory and filled to the brim with so much to unpack – be careful you don’t miss it for thinking it a simple story. Oyeyemi is genius.

Books that should have been on the list, but I actually kept it to 10: Mystic River, by Dennis Lehane; The Woman Upstairs, by Claire Messud; With or Without You, by Domenica Ruta; the Autobiography of Malcolm X (starts in Boston, so it counts); The Boston Girl, by Anna Diament; Girl, Interrupted, by Susannah Keyes; I Am the Cheese, by Robert Cormier.

And the Red Sox have won the World Series, can you believe it!?

October 31, 2013

I wrote apology notes to the girls teachers in their agendas. Even with celebratory sugar in the form of giant cinnamon rolls for breakfast (cinnamon rolls that I had to get up a half-hour early to bake, mind you), the girls are going to be draggin’ this morning. And possibly a little cranky. For sure they will definitely be exhausted. But how could I not let them stay up to see their team win the World Series?

We crammed everything in to our even usually crazy Wednesday night: walking the dog, homework, going through the Wednesday folder send home from school, cooking, eating and cleaning up after dinner, showers… And we took care of some extra things, too, like cleaning up after Fen’s accident, dealing with some downpours, carving two pumpkins, and…oh yeah – baseball.

We all wore our lucky Red Sox shirts, but it wasn’t until we were posing for pictures with this that anything happened.


Those poses are what happens when you’re sitting pretty one minute and then the announcer from the game goes a little crazy and yells “Three-nothing, Red Sox!” and the next you’re just about jumping off the island. Priceless!

My girls hung in there through every pitch. They rotated from my lap to the couch to the floor to lying against the dog and back to the couch again. Bee grabbed the blanket off her bed and even tried to fall asleep on the couch at one point. But they couldn’t do it. They were too wrapped up in the game. The Cardinals’ hearts might not have been in it (how the flip else do you let Ellsbury find the base again, for the love of baseball?!?!), but my girls’ were. When Koji threw that last strike and I jumped off the chair, bouncing up and down with Bee in my arms, Gracie actually started bawling – and this is the third time the Red Sox have won the Series since she’s been alive! It’s not like she went through the drought with us! But I let them feel it. I let them enjoy it. I laughed when Bee started running in circles with happiness and sheer exhaustion. When I finally forced them into bed at 10:30, I only chuckled when I heard them singing, snuggled up under their covers in the dark. I’m sure they fell asleep at some point, and with a smile on their faces.

Happy Halloween, Red Sox Nation! I have only one small favor before you all think about winding down the festivities and getting some sleep…could you please meander over towards the homes of your fellow Patriots and steal all of their shaving equipment? I think it’s time that the football nation learns to Fear the Beard.

I’d worry if I was her…

November 11, 2009

Because I am a mean mom who frequently has visions of uncleanable stains dance through her head, I always make Gracie change out of her white uniform shirt before we sit down to dinner. I get enough flak from her about such unreasonable requests that I usually don’t care which shirt she chooses, so long as it’s not another white shirt. Tonight she chose her beloved Red Sox t-shirt. That’s what started it.

We were having macaroni and sauce for dinner, a dinner Gracie usually savors. Tonight, though, she was much more interested in grilling Auntie Kim.

Gracie: I have on my Red Sox shirt!

Auntie Kim: Yes, yes you do.

Gracie: Which baseball team do you like?

Auntie Kim: Uh…I don’t really like sports.

Gracie: … <processing….> Do you like the Patriots?

Auntie Kim: No…not really?

(At which point I was screaming inside my head: “Blasphemy! WRONG ANSWER! Noooooooooo!”)

Gracie just looked at Auntie Kim like she wasn’t sure if we were really related to this so-called “aunt” sitting across from us.

Gracie: Do you like the Red Sox? <Because clearly Auntie Kim wasn’t understanding if she wasn’t manic like we were about our Boston teams.>

Auntie Kim, after finally getting a clue: I think they’re one of the best baseball teams out there.

Gracie still looked at her like she was crazy…and like she was seriously reconsidering Auntie Kim’s coolness factor. Be afraid, Auntie Kim, be very afraid. The lectures on WHY you must like them come next.