Moment of Silence.
First things first, what happened yesterday at the Marathon was an act of terrorism. Whether by a group, country, or individual, it was terrorism; and they will be put to justice. If whoever is not held responsible, the people of Boston know what to do, and how to do it.
I was 4 years old going to my first Red Sox game. It was just me and my dad going in, we were meeting two of his friends, who were like uncles to me at Fenway.
At four years old it was pretty amazing. We took the train from my Nana’s in Beverley; after we had Nick’s roast beef of course.
The train was an interesting experience, I only remember us blurring by everything and I distinctly recall seeing a Burger King somewhere in the city.
Anyway, we got to Yawkey Way, me clutching my dad’s hand and I’m sure my jaw was dropped the whole time. The crowds, the smells, the foul language, “it’s fahknin’ Suppan on the mound tonight!”
I wanted 3 things that whole game; a Fenway frank, a foam finger and Nomar. I wanted Nomar, I can’t explain it, Nomar is a Greek baseball God and will forever be numbah 5.
I got the first two things with ease, but eating a hot dog with one hand at age four was difficult. The seats were phenomenal, I was looking right at my idol, Nomah Garciaparra! My dad’s friend was stationed behind a beam but, that wasn’t an issue for me. I fell asleep toward the seventh inning, only to awaken by the singing of Sweet Caroline.
The Red Sox won and I was happy as could be, I was hoisted on my dad’s shoulders because I was too “tired” to walk. I saw the city and that’s what Boston means to me.
Loved it ever since.
+ If the Yankees start using Sweet Caroline more, not cool
+ The coward or cowards who did this to Boston will pay.
+ The people of the city will only be stronger now than ever before.
+ Never forget.