Games 71 & 72 - Red Sox
Red Sox 6, Nationals 4
Nationals 9, Red Sox 3
Record: 44-28
I took my first trip to Nationals Park last night, arriving an hour before gametime in hopes of checking out the joint. (My traveling partner gave an alternative meaning to that last phrase.) By the time Jordan Zimmermann threw the first pitch of last night's game, I'd toured the ballpark extensively, devoured a half-smoke from Ben's Chili Bowl (all the way, with onions, chili, and cheese), had a Wild Goose Amber, cheered with my fellow Sox fans as John Smoltz made his way to the bullpen to begin his warmup, and read the news of Michael Jackson's death.
The highlight of the evening, by large measure, was the half-smoke. It was, without question, the single best ballpark food item I've ever eaten. For those unfamiliar with our region's only culinary claim to fame, picture a cross between a hot dog and an italian sausage, perfectly spiced, grilled to a crisp char, slightly split, with melted cheese atop mustard and onions. I'm salivating all over again.
Red Sox 6, Nationals 4
Nationals 9, Red Sox 3
Record: 44-28
I took my first trip to Nationals Park last night, arriving an hour before gametime in hopes of checking out the joint. (My traveling partner gave an alternative meaning to that last phrase.) By the time Jordan Zimmermann threw the first pitch of last night's game, I'd toured the ballpark extensively, devoured a half-smoke from Ben's Chili Bowl (all the way, with onions, chili, and cheese), had a Wild Goose Amber, cheered with my fellow Sox fans as John Smoltz made his way to the bullpen to begin his warmup, and read the news of Michael Jackson's death.
The highlight of the evening, by large measure, was the half-smoke. It was, without question, the single best ballpark food item I've ever eaten. For those unfamiliar with our region's only culinary claim to fame, picture a cross between a hot dog and an italian sausage, perfectly spiced, grilled to a crisp char, slightly split, with melted cheese atop mustard and onions. I'm salivating all over again.
Nationals Park itself is a well-designed, open (and massive) modern yard. It's got a ton of well-placed and easy to reach concessions and good to great sightlines. It's also got absolutely zero soul.
The crowd, as expected, was overwhelmingly pro-Sox, though the Nats fans in our section were enthusiastic in their support for the hometown 9. I could spend a few words on the pair of drunken douchemonkeys who ramped up their 'Red Sox suck' chorus as the game got out of hand, but that'd be wasting effort on dipshits of the highest order. Fortunately, they were a notable exception to the generally extremely accomodating home folks.
As for the ballgame, Dustin Pedroia's 3-pitch strikeout to open things fairly well encapsulated the Sox' ineptitude. Let's hope that the John Smoltz we saw last night was the beta version, because 4 earned in the first inning against the Nats really wasn't the debut we were looking for.
The final high point of the night was Teejay's splendid navigation away from the ballpark (and the madding crowds) and into the Arlington evening. Park to his house in 20 minutes via Capitol Hill. Paul Revere wishes he traveled with such alacrity.
1 comment:
Me drive gud.
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