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Jason · 02-06-2006, 07:48 PM

May 25, 2006, 1am, On Top Of The Green Monster, Fenway Park
(Detroit is 28-17, 2 ½ ahead of Cleveland. Stats: .304, 11 HR 37 RBI)

It was a perfect night in Boston.

Cool evening with a slight breeze blowing as I’m sitting above the green monster. Only a few lights on the field so it’s dark around the edges of the outfield but home plate is lit up like the night a wishful World Series home run was waved fair by Carlton Fisk. I’m trying to ignore Croteau and Salinas who are sitting here with me because I want to just soak in the moment. I know I’m a professional baseball player but there’s just something about Fenway Park that makes me feel like I’m ten years old again.

“I have to admit I wasn’t sure if putting seats up here was a good idea,” Salinas said.

“Yeah,” Croteau said. “Seems a little less imposing if Uncle Bob is sticking a finger up at you from the top of the fence.”

The two of them laughed and continued to trade barbs as I sat and looked at the field. Just a few hours earlier Salinas hit a three run home run to tie me for the team lead and win the game for us in the thirteenth inning. I looked to the chair to my right. A Red Sox ball boy told me that his cousin was sitting up here tonight and had caught my eleventh home run of the year. I tried to get him to bribe his cousin for me but apparently he thought he could get more by putting it on EBay.

It was a pretty tight game when I came up with one on and one out in the top of the fifth inning. I was having a rough game to that point with two strikeouts in my two at bats. Other than that, everyone was playing fairly well.

Bill Sparks actually looked like a decent starting pitcher and with the exception of the back-to-back walks in the fourth inning that cost us two runs he was dominating the Sox hitters. Rob Marshal was matching Sparks pitch for pitch because the only run we could manage was on an RBI single from that jerk Al Canfield.

Trailing 2-1 and with Jimmy Caesar standing at second base I expected to be walked on four pitches just outside the strike zone. I stepped in and Marshal shook off three signals from his catcher Galarza before Raul called time and ran out to the mound. A mildly heated discussion ensued that broke up just before the umpire reached the mound to break it up. Galarza came back to the plate slowly shaking his head. He looked in the dugout and waved his mitt in what looked to me like a resigned disbelief.

I saw Salinas waiving his arm out of the corner of my eye. I looked over at him as he mouthed the word “fastball” and I nodded. I had a few of the veterans tell me that the only thing keeping Marshal from being a Hall of Fame pitcher was his arrogance and his refusal to listen to the coaches. The skipper of the Red Sox was calling for the pitch around. Salinas confirmed what I suspected was happening to me. Marshal wanted to strike out the rookie getting all the attention for the third time in the game.

I dug in and looked down at Galarza to see where he was setting up. The glove was on the outside of the plate and low. I saw Raul look at my feet where I was dug in and expected the glove to move inside for a little dust up. Instead, he just looked back at the mound and kept the glove steady.

So I’m looking fastball and I focus in on Marshal. He stared in as if he was drilling a hole through Galarza’s skull before finally going into his windup.

It wasn’t even a good, challenging fastball but it was a little farther outside than I usually like to try and pull over the wall. Ninety nine times out of a hundred I’d have gone the other way with that pitch but I wanted to show this prick who was boss.

The ball shot high into the Massachusetts night and for a moment it didn’t look like it was going to get out of the park but it was going to at least bounce off the Monster. Caesar was on his horse and rounding third before I even made the turn at first base. I knew I had at least tied the game and made the turn with the intent to hold up with an RBI single.

Suddenly the crowd roared and I heard Marshal tell me that he thought my mother was a female dog. I looked up and saw Javier Abril standing next to the bag at second just looking at the wall with his glove hanging limply by his side. I started into a trot and tried hard not to do anything that could be seen as showing up Marshal. Yes, he was a prick, but he also had teammates that wouldn’t take kindly to a rookie showing up their ace.

I didn’t do much the rest of the game. I stole second in the eighth after a walk but was left stranded when Canfield tried to muscle it and popped up to short. We led 3-2 with two outs in the bottom of the night when our closer Loya gave up his first home run of the season to tie the game at 3. It was a big of overtime and it did feel good to win my first game at Fenway Park.

Birds were starting to fly around us and land on the edge of the monster. I had nearly forgotten Salinas and Croteau were with me until I heard the loud beep of Croteau’s cell phone. I glanced over as he read the message on the screen and then showed it to Salinas. Will smiled and nodded in my direction as Croteau turned and held out the phone.

“Just remember,” Croteau said, “He brought this on himself.”

I picked up the phone and looked at the display. It was a news story from ESPN.com that popped up on Croteau’s mobile web.

“TIGERS TRADE CANFIELD TO WASHINGTON FOR TROUBLED PITCHER.”

I slowly smiled and looked back down to the field. NOW it was a perfect night in Boston.

02-06-2006, 07:48 PM	#53
Jason Hall Of Famer Join Date: May 2002 Posts: 3,852	May 25, 2006, 1am, On Top Of The Green Monster, Fenway Park (Detroit is 28-17, 2 ½ ahead of Cleveland. Stats: .304, 11 HR 37 RBI) It was a perfect night in Boston. Cool evening with a slight breeze blowing as I’m sitting above the green monster. Only a few lights on the field so it’s dark around the edges of the outfield but home plate is lit up like the night a wishful World Series home run was waved fair by Carlton Fisk. I’m trying to ignore Croteau and Salinas who are sitting here with me because I want to just soak in the moment. I know I’m a professional baseball player but there’s just something about Fenway Park that makes me feel like I’m ten years old again. “I have to admit I wasn’t sure if putting seats up here was a good idea,” Salinas said. “Yeah,” Croteau said. “Seems a little less imposing if Uncle Bob is sticking a finger up at you from the top of the fence.” The two of them laughed and continued to trade barbs as I sat and looked at the field. Just a few hours earlier Salinas hit a three run home run to tie me for the team lead and win the game for us in the thirteenth inning. I looked to the chair to my right. A Red Sox ball boy told me that his cousin was sitting up here tonight and had caught my eleventh home run of the year. I tried to get him to bribe his cousin for me but apparently he thought he could get more by putting it on EBay. It was a pretty tight game when I came up with one on and one out in the top of the fifth inning. I was having a rough game to that point with two strikeouts in my two at bats. Other than that, everyone was playing fairly well. Bill Sparks actually looked like a decent starting pitcher and with the exception of the back-to-back walks in the fourth inning that cost us two runs he was dominating the Sox hitters. Rob Marshal was matching Sparks pitch for pitch because the only run we could manage was on an RBI single from that jerk Al Canfield. Trailing 2-1 and with Jimmy Caesar standing at second base I expected to be walked on four pitches just outside the strike zone. I stepped in and Marshal shook off three signals from his catcher Galarza before Raul called time and ran out to the mound. A mildly heated discussion ensued that broke up just before the umpire reached the mound to break it up. Galarza came back to the plate slowly shaking his head. He looked in the dugout and waved his mitt in what looked to me like a resigned disbelief. I saw Salinas waiving his arm out of the corner of my eye. I looked over at him as he mouthed the word “fastball” and I nodded. I had a few of the veterans tell me that the only thing keeping Marshal from being a Hall of Fame pitcher was his arrogance and his refusal to listen to the coaches. The skipper of the Red Sox was calling for the pitch around. Salinas confirmed what I suspected was happening to me. Marshal wanted to strike out the rookie getting all the attention for the third time in the game. I dug in and looked down at Galarza to see where he was setting up. The glove was on the outside of the plate and low. I saw Raul look at my feet where I was dug in and expected the glove to move inside for a little dust up. Instead, he just looked back at the mound and kept the glove steady. So I’m looking fastball and I focus in on Marshal. He stared in as if he was drilling a hole through Galarza’s skull before finally going into his windup. It wasn’t even a good, challenging fastball but it was a little farther outside than I usually like to try and pull over the wall. Ninety nine times out of a hundred I’d have gone the other way with that pitch but I wanted to show this prick who was boss. The ball shot high into the Massachusetts night and for a moment it didn’t look like it was going to get out of the park but it was going to at least bounce off the Monster. Caesar was on his horse and rounding third before I even made the turn at first base. I knew I had at least tied the game and made the turn with the intent to hold up with an RBI single. Suddenly the crowd roared and I heard Marshal tell me that he thought my mother was a female dog. I looked up and saw Javier Abril standing next to the bag at second just looking at the wall with his glove hanging limply by his side. I started into a trot and tried hard not to do anything that could be seen as showing up Marshal. Yes, he was a prick, but he also had teammates that wouldn’t take kindly to a rookie showing up their ace. I didn’t do much the rest of the game. I stole second in the eighth after a walk but was left stranded when Canfield tried to muscle it and popped up to short. We led 3-2 with two outs in the bottom of the night when our closer Loya gave up his first home run of the season to tie the game at 3. It was a big of overtime and it did feel good to win my first game at Fenway Park. Birds were starting to fly around us and land on the edge of the monster. I had nearly forgotten Salinas and Croteau were with me until I heard the loud beep of Croteau’s cell phone. I glanced over as he read the message on the screen and then showed it to Salinas. Will smiled and nodded in my direction as Croteau turned and held out the phone. “Just remember,” Croteau said, “He brought this on himself.” I picked up the phone and looked at the display. It was a news story from ESPN.com that popped up on Croteau’s mobile web. “TIGERS TRADE CANFIELD TO WASHINGTON FOR TROUBLED PITCHER.” I slowly smiled and looked back down to the field. NOW it was a perfect night in Boston.