Well, due to quirks of geography and time and to the computer business of the early 1980's and the computer business of the early 2000's, and to Jerry Remy and Mo Vaughn and Ted Williams and Roger Clemens, and to the vagaries of the free agent system and to Calvin Schiraldi and Mookie Wilson and to many, many other things great and small, I find myself happily living in New York City: home of the Yankees (the most successful baseball team of all time), as a fan of the Boston Red Sox (the team with the most excruciating drought (with the arguable exception of the Cubbies (1908 for the Cubs, 1918 for the Red Sox but the Sox have been much closer many more times. Therein lies the misery)). The Yankees and Red Sox are also involved in an age old and beloved rivalry (admittedly this rivalry is a *bit* one sided. The common quote is that it is like the rivalry between the hammer and the nail. But, as one sided as it is the Yankee fans still print up t-shirts that say "Boston SUCKS" and "95 north" and they still chant "1918! 1918! 1918!" at every opportunity when Boston comes to town). Boston was in town the past couple of days, in fact. So was Woobie (also a Red Sox fan.). We went to the stadium to see the game (tickets very kindly birthday gifted from my friend Becky). We drank warm beer and ate cold hot dogs. We traded barbs with many many (many) Yankees fans on the subway ("that 'B' on your hat is for 'Brooklyn', right?", "no, Buddy. I am a Yankees fan and it stands for we just Bought another World Series."). We greeted (and were greeted by) all the other Red Sox fans in attendance as we would greet old and dear friends. We laughed at the drunken bonehead next to us who, after every strikeout, would yell "Siddown you fuggin' faggot Red Sox!". A gentleman and a scholar. As is becoming a tradition we also climbed up to the very tippety-top of the stadium and took a series of pictures of the ballpark. Enjoy.