It all began propitiously enough.Thanks to a previous scouting mission we made it to the baseball park with no problem - in spite of our GPS telling us we wanted exit 17, which (thanks to Worcester’s new stadium’s very recent construction) was really exit 13, and the highway sign telling us to go to exit 14. We even snagged one of the last parking places, again no small achievement since the parking garage is still not much more than cinderblocks and parking is an every-man-for-himself kind of thing.
We were there for our first try at the Red Sox’s farm team, the WooSox, who have decamped from their previous location in Rhode Island to one much more convenient for us. With any luck, we’d see some rising star, who someday would be there on national tv, playing in the big leagues.
Our seats were pretty good, on the third base line, and we were with friends we hadn’t seen in some time. It was an evening game and we hadn’t eaten, so before things began, I proposed to My Guy that we grab a burger. The line went quickly, we had our burgers and sodas and then turned to see a sky that looked like something from War of the Worlds, and then this:
After about an hour the game was called. We were disappointed, but it was at least the perfect night for anyone who finds baseball games too time-consuming.