Pick me up on your way down
When you’re blue and all alone
When the glamor starts to bore you
Come on back where you belong…
Some songs become emblematic of our BroSox Adventures for obvious reasons – ‘Shipping Up to Boston’ has been a mainstay, and our early theme song of ‘Something New’ was perfect because our trajectory was, quite simply, still new. This marks the ninth year since we made our first joint trip to the Cathedral of Boston way back in 2015, so it’s not exactly new, but there are always new things to see and do. Starting with this ridiculous country song, which found its way into our trip at the tail-end of everything – arriving on the airwaves of our final rest-stop in Blandford. Pricking my ears up at the sound and the vibe and not giving a flying squirrel whether the lyrics were pertinent, I told Skip to get his phone out and work his song-detection app magic to find out who sang it. There were other musical moments that had accented the weekend (stay tuned for those), but this one gave the opening country-languid ease and relaxation that marked this fun BroSox Adventure…
It didn’t begin with such ease – while the company was true, the atmospheric conditions were such that the bands of rain from a passing hurricane made the drive into Boston a sketchy/scary one. We would tempt such wet fate for the first day and a half, bringing along the hoodies and umbrellas should the worst decide to hit. Before going anywhere, however, Skip was good enough to assemble this desk, which I originally thought was a simple job. Luckily it was simple for him, and his tool bag – I would never have been able to figure out how to make working drawers, so he was a godsend in the same way he was for the installation of the air conditioning unit that was still keeping us cool on this hot and humid weekend.
You may be their pride and joy
But they’ll find another toy
And they’ll take away your crown
Pick me up on your way down
Our seats were great – though we both noticed they were right on the very edge of where an overhang ended right above our heads. Should it start raining, we would either be barely protected, not protected at all, or right in the spot where the torrential run-off would tumble down like Niagara Falls. Sliding my very bad back into the very rigid seats, I braced for the worst.
The game began and the weather held for the start – we had our Fenway franks, and the Red Sox volleyed with the Astros for a run here and there. I looked up at the sky and saw the clouds begin to move in dramatically. The visage was stunning – the prospect of what those clouds may have been portending was more bothersome. But I was comforted by the fact that the clouds were moving up and away from our overhang – if rain was to come there was a good chance we were in the right location for it to blow just over us and hit the seats a few rows below.
It was tight for most of the game, but then Houston opened it up at the top of the 7th.
When I asked Skip to write that assessment I sent it out to all my friends. Here are a few choice responses:
“Who is this?”
“Did you even have a clue what the hell was going on?”
“Dude. You’ve been hacked.”
“Excuse me, who is this?”
My friends’ complete lack of faith in my baseball lingo notwithstanding, the Red Sox blew it, and by the time ‘Sweet Caroline’ was sung the rain had already begun, but by the sweet grace of God it was blowing just beyond our row of eats. Two rows ahead was getting soaked but we remained for the most part perfectly dry, except for the walk home, but it had been so hot and humid all day it was more refreshing than annoying, and the company of Skip and the relaxed ease of another BroSox Adventure once again at hand lent it a charm that last year’s rainy proceedings could barely muster. The boys were back in Boston, and life was good…
Yes, they’ll take away your crown
Pick me up on your way down…
