Cold? What cold?

All right, so Alex Gordon didn't get a hit, but what about that Ross Gload, huh? Unfortunately, the Royals could not mount a win with only one guy hitting the ball, and, although Beckett walked four, the Sox field took care of the baserunners from their end and showed the Royals that they knew how to play the game even in cold weather. Except Lowell, but I always hated third base myself.
The hot chocolate was the best I have had in my life. I don't even like hot chocolate; I prefer my chocolate in large quantities and solid form, but this was some good shit. We met a guy in line at the concession stand (the first time) from Lexington... freakin' Massachussetts! I was trying to get a picture of Shawn and Hunter ordering so I could mentally add a Field of Dreams caption ("What do you want?" "I want people to leave me alone. I want peace, etc." "No, I mean, what do you WANT?" "Oh. A dog and a beer." Hunter obviously would have been the one to say that), and the guy asked if we wanted our picture taken together. Since he didn't ask us to take off our shoes and socks and stand in a fountain, I trusted that he wouldn't take off with the camera... what was that from, European Vacation?... and for once I was right. It was Buck Night, which of course meant that hot dogs were a dollar, so we ordered enough to fill up a small suitcase and managed to save a couple to take my dad (bad idea scheduling Royals-Red Sox in Kansas City during tax season).
One thing I always let myself forget, from year to year, is how basically kind and good people are. The camera guy, the people sitting around us... I'm telling you, baseball is the best spectator sport. Basketball fans are sweaty and indoors, (not to mention often standing up), football fans are more aggressive than I like to see, and the soccer game I tried to watch was much less exciting than I'd been led to believe about the sport.
The hard part was when we were walking to the concession stand (first time) and there was a dark-haired man in a wheelchair in front of me. I didn't think I could stop the rush of tears, but I forced them back (all that practice these last ten months has paid off big time) and tried not to remember.
I don't care who the commentators and coaches attribute the Red Sox win to, Granddad. I know that they realized somehow it was our first game with only three of the four members of our group in attendance, and they wanted to win that game for you.