Mike Lowell was not the only one pissed off in the pissing rain of Fenway last night. I sat drenched surrounded about other shivering fans. A row behind me a father had brought his daughter and a group of friends to the game to explain baseball. Lets hope he was able to teach the game quickly as they only made it five full innings…the exact cut off for calling a game.
Am I pissed off right now because after enduring an hour and a half of cold we didn’t come up with a win? No, I’m pissed because we didn’t come out with a game. Baseball is an expensive spectator sport. The tickets, the beer, the hot dogs, and even expletive water. So when you go out freeze your ass off, get in more credit debt, only to realize the game probably never should have been played in the first place, you can’t help but feel scammed. I’m sure people were puzzled looking at cold wet fans on their TVs, but when you commit to a night at Fenway its hard to let go. It’s not like tickets are easy to come by. I mean people blow hundreds, hell; they blow kidneys on these games.
The Sox were scammed for a win. We were scammed for more of our money. In this economy you think the least they could do would be to give us a full game. There was a kid sitting next to me who had waterproofed his sign, his optimism was incredible. It was his first game at Fenway, and his father wasn’t about to ruin it by getting him inside. It seemed finally the worst of the torrential rainfall was through with, and maybe this boy would see a full game after all.
And then they called it.
Baseball isn’t like football or rugby, it doesn’t get better in crummy weather, it doesn’t get more interesting. The risk of injuries is heightened for players, and the risk of phenomena is increased for the loyalist of fans.
Did they honestly ever believe they would see nine innings in last night’s conditions? Some fan appreciation they have…



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