play ball

Yesterday, and for clarification, indeed the entire 12 hour period from 1pm-1am, I was presented - blessed, even - with the opportunity of a lifetime. Maybe even two lifetimes: experiencing not only the pandemonium that encompasses opening day at Fenway Park for the Red Sox, indefinitely the greatest baseball team in the history of the American Tradition, as well as the kickoff of the entire Major League Baseball 2010 season, but also the blood-chilling, fist-pumping, lung-bursting phenomena that is the Red Sox/Yankees rivalry.

If it weren't enough that the streets were quite literally a sea of swarming, cheering, gnashing fans, pulsing and cresting on waves of placid pavement, the gently flowing breeze bursting with the harmonious, illustrious scents that define baseball atmosphere, the tangible conglomeration of emotions resonating from excitement and giddy glee to pure, unadulterated hatred perforated every inch of the Boston Harbour.

In a priceless pause, you can't help but to breathe in deeply, inhale the insatiable ribbons and currents of baseball mania, savoring the sweet euphoria like a fine wine. Smells, cascading around you, somehow incapsulate each individual delectable indulgence, tempting and teasing the senses, tickling the salivating palate. Hot dogs, sausages, peanuts and fried dough, stale beer, hot pretzels, and clam chowder...The torture of choosing...

And then...the National Anthem. A stadium of 30,000+ somehow hushes to a low drone dripping with honor and respect as the sacred verses traverse the grand stands, linger over the green outfield, and twinkle in the spotlights. A deep sigh of pride can be felt wafting over the crowd, and for that moment, for that brief intoxicating calm, the American is all that matters. There are no Yankees, there are no Red Sox... only American Baseball fans.

Fireworks explode, the crowd erupts in an earthquake of hoots and whistles, the spell is broken.... and the game begins.

Play ball!