When I was in Junior High, there was a math teacher, Mrs. Smith, who was tiny and smart and tough. She had a steely voice, steel-gray hair, and a no-nonsense, no fooling around attitude, tempered with a sense of humor that she allowed to peek out from behind her stern facade every now and then. During class, when we'd work on problems out loud and she'd call on us for answers, if someone gave a very wrong answer, she'd kind of roll her eyes and tilt her head back a bit, like she was reeling from the awful wrongness of that student's attempted answer. And she'd say, in that grim, steely voice "Ah, you're way out in Pawtucket!" I went to school in the southern part of Rhode Island, and Pawtucket lies northeast of Providence, far, far from us. (Relatively speaking. It's Rhode Island, after all, and nothing is really THAT far from anything else.) But that was her way of telling you just how VERY wrong you were. So far off that you were way out in Pawtucket.
And that's where the family and I were the other day. Way out in Pawtucket.
On Thursday we went to a Pawtucket Red Sox game with friends of ours, their son (Alex's best friend since they were about a year old or something) and another little boy. We went for free, courtesy of "family four-packs" of tickets given away by Dave's Marketplace.
It was one of two special nights that included early start times and post-game fireworks. We went last year, so we HAD to go this year.
The cool thing (to me) was that Clay Buchholz was scheduled to pitch. Woo hoo! Go Sox!
Even cooler – we won!
And cooler still, we had pretty good seats. We were kind of behind/to the side of the press box, so we were behind home plate, off to the first base side a bit. I had (because my husband and our friends are kind) a great seat – the press box didn't obscure my view of the field at all, so I could take pictures. We were way up in the nosebleed seats, but still, it was a great view of the game.
The other thing to note – we've had so much rain (I know I've mentioned that before) lately, that up until a couple hours before game time, we weren't even sure if there would be a game at all. Amazingly, just before we headed to Pawtucket, the sun came out and the sky cleared, and we actually had good weather for the game.
There was still always the threat of rain – I kept taking pictures of the sky as the evening went on, just to track the cloudy status. But though the sky became overcast, the rain never fell, and the evening rolled along as planned. Yay!
Anyway, the kids had a great time – three little boys all around the 7-year mark, giddy and goofy and feeding off each others' wild energy…plus one five-year-old girl who can hold her own with the boys – except when the fireworks start.
Julia cried through the whole fireworks display last year. This year she cried and was calling "Mommy! Mommy!" at the start (on Bill's lap – I got to take pictures pretty much uninterrupted this year) and he said she stopped crying after a bit but kept her hands firmly in place over her ears. Then, once the show was done and we were starting to leave, she saw me and started crying again. Because I hadn't been witness to it the first time, I guess, and she needed to let me know how unhappy she'd been.
Anyway, a fun time was had by all, and during the ride home Julia fell asleep almost before we were out of the parking lot at McCoy Stadium. The boys, all three of them buckled in in the very back seat, were overtired and wired during the ride home. They became more and more giggly during the ride, and Alex fell asleep pretty much as soon as his head hit the pillow.