Let's take a look at those predictions for the Sox series:

16 people guessed.

15 people said Sox in 4.

1 person said Sox in 3.

That one person--me! Winner, and still champion!

Yanks just started game 3 of their series, with a ball hit to GOD, who, in true immortal fashion, DID NOT make an error. Base hit for Cleveland instead of an error by Jeter. And Roger doesn't look good. We have to leave now, so hopefully the Tribe can wrap this up tonight.

ALCS starts Friday night at Fenway!

Look at this.

I love it when George proves everything I've ever said about the Yankees organization.

About the bugs: I was waiting for the excuses. But, honestly, I thought they'd be "too classy" for it. I thought they'd say, Hey, both teams had to deal with it and we'll keep our mystical and aural mouths closed. Wrong! Here come the excuses: "It messed up our whole team," yells Steinbrenner. He goes so far as to say, AS IF HE MAKES THE DECISION, "Bruce Froemming will never ump our games again." You know, I meant to say this yesterday, but how cool was it to see the Indians players--especially Carmona--bearing down and doing their best to ignore the bugs, while the Yankee players whined like the babies they are. One Indian player even said something like, "the Yankees were acting like there were bullets coming at them." Man, I will never forget that day, when the New York Yankees acted like a swarm of bugs affected only them and not the other team. What will their excuse be tonight?

And about Torre: Oh my god. Seriously, when that guy leaves the Yanks, the fans are going to want to see him honored. Even if George wants to fire his ass, he should do it quietly. But no. He's saying that if Joe doesn't win this year, he's out. Ha! I love it. Are Yankee fans really happy with this guy? If I was a Dunbarian, I'd be counting the seconds until this guy kicks it and leaves my team alone.

Even you media-taught Red Sox haters need to take a step back, realize that the Red Sox have done nothing wrong and are really likeable and are always trying to help you and your city see the Yanks lose, and remember who America's most despicable, pathetic franchise is. Join the world-wide party that is "the Yankees losing." Remember Yankee-hating? It's the best time of year for it! Come back to us!

These large, circular devices allow people far away from Fenway Park to witness games on special screens.

I quickly went past the players' lot, even though I knew they were all inside by then, and I noticed former umpire Steve Palermo standing there. Which is quite impressive, since doctors didn't think he'd walk again after getting shot in the spine. (Still, TJ by him for taking a job with the Yanks a few years ago.)

Nice sky. With the 8:37 start and it being October, batting practice took place at night. Cool.

The Monster under the purplish/pinkish sky on this hot night in Boston. I really lucked out during my final stretch of Fenway games this year, temperature-wise.

Timlin and his boy.

I'd brought my radio (and listened to the beginning of the Yanks while I took a really long walk to Fenway, as my train stopped at MGH due to some kind of emergency), but fortunately they were showing the Yanks game on the scoreboard. They kept it on until the pre-game ceremonies started. You can see the pitch dark non-western sky.

Johnny Pesky signing. Note the bunting. Woohoo, bunting!

The ALDS logo on the field.

Vlad in front of the scoreboard. Look how the "2" serves two purposes.

The TBS camera, set up right in the "get in Kapstein's way" position.

Heading back toward my seat in section 2, I stopped around this area to watch the Yanks without having to crane my neck to see the board. In front of me in canvas alley.

Looking to the right, you can see how the right field grandstand is higher than the infield grandstand. I remember being little, and going around the stands, always getting to this point and having to climb over, while your older, feebler types just went down the alley and came up on the other side. Around this spot, one of the chairs will always be in the "down" position where everyone's been climbing over.

It's the eighth in the Yanks game, and the Tribe are still being frustrated. While still down by third base, I saw Joba the Slut get out of the seventh, and said to the guy and his son in front of me, "they'll choke in the end" as I walked away. (Note: I'd be totally right.) But that's not the point of this picture! The point is, there was a mysterious light visible for a few minutes shining through the Monster.

Between rooting on the Indians from the right field boxes now, as I inch toward right field, I took some shots of Dice as he stretched.

Dice still throwing.

See it go, Dice-K.

You know I admit when I screw up a shot, so you can believe me when I say I was trying to get a shot with a lot of in-focus foreground grass, plus a blurry Dice in the back.

Dice and some bongos. What an incredible version of the anthem by Tiger Okoshi and friends on this night.

At this point, we're all riveted with the bug-infested Yankee game. Apparently, these things are called "Canadian Soldiers," as they infest Cleveland occasionally from across the lake. People were spraying each other with bug spray, toweling each other off, getting bugs in their eyes and mouths, it was hilarious. And Joba is getting nervous. I don't know if all of America can appreciate just how much the Yanks had assumed they'd found their savior. After he threw his first inning this season, it was "Joba, baby." That's all Yankee fans needed to say. He was Jesus Fucking Christ to them. And I just sat back and waited for this rube to fail. To choke, as is the new Yankee tradition. "Please, Torre, I thought, bring this hog in to a PLAYOFF game, assuming nothing can possibly go wrong." And for him to blow it the way he did, on wild pitches, with bugs all over his face, just made it all the more roll-on-the-floor funny. Joba, baby. Joba. I always love it when the Yanks fall for, say it with me now, Timo Perez Syndrome! (That link is from the second month of this blog, in April 2004--note that the "fiance" described in that post is long-since out of the picture. And that my girlfriend now absolutely pays attention when I talk about the Sox, and responds as well.)

Here, the Indians have tied it up, and everyone's watching at Fenway as Joba shits his pants, drawing even more flies.

Our game's getting closer to starting. Meanwhile, just as a two-out, two-strike pitch is coming in to A-Rod, the screen goes screwy, and then they break into the pre-game ceremony. So I go to my radio, and am able to pull in EEI. Two stupid hosts are blabbing, but eventually tell me that A-Rod struck out. We go bottom nine in Cleveland. Above, Luis Tiant throws out the first pitch.

Dice on the mound, with Cabrera up. Note the right field umpire.

Vlad out in front of us in right field. These were the seats given to me for having the 10-game plan. Those seats are in the bleachers, and they try to get you something close to where your normal seats are. I was happy with section 2--only a few feet to the left of my normal seats, and with no pole in the way, and cover in case it rained. So I'm watching the first few innings of our game with a radio to my ear, waiting for updates from Castiglione. We hear that the Tribe left men on in the tenth, and then in the eleventh, they have another chance. And we hear the news--a single has won it for the Tribe. I know, the guy in front of me gets the update on his fancy whatever-thing, and we're just waiting for it to go up on the Monster scoreboard. And here's that moment:



As you can see, the Angels have just scored three off Dice to erase our two-run lead, which was thanks to J.D. Drew. So it was a little bittersweet, but mainly sweet, as I could now relax, knowing they were down 2-0, and we had many innings left to come back from a one-run defecit at home.

Interesting view of the right field corner.

The zoomed-out shot. Here, we score on a Lowell sac fly. Now, this was made possible in part by a great move by a front row fan. It was hard to see from where we were, but all I knew was, "that ball is in the crowd--it's the home fans' right and duty to go after the ball, preventing the visiting fielder to catch it." And that's what happened. However, there is a "temporary front row" in front of the real one, added for camera-people. So, does the area above that count as being part of the field, or the stands? I asked this question recently in this post, only I was wondering about the air-space over the tarp. Either way, even if someone tries to claim that the kid illegally reached out onto the field (notice there was no argument, and the fielder in question made no excuse, saying the kid made a good play) and that the area above the camera row IS part of the field, even that wouldn've been a borderline call. This play should never be mentioned in the same breath as the Jeffrey Maier play, which involved a blatantly illegal move that the umps *missed* (wink wink), and which directly put runs on the board.

Get that glove down, son. Hey, was that a terrible job by Dice not covering first or what? Get over there! Anyway, he wasn't great, but kept us in it in that weird way he often seems to.

Papi heading back to second after a foul ball on a 3-2, two-out pitch.

Manny, Lugo, and Lowell.

A window over at Hotel Buckminster with the Fenway lights reflecting in it. Either that or they're mining diamonds in there.

K-Rod, who seems to always get nervous against ONLY the Yanks, sprints in to meet his fate.

Ortiz is getting walked, and Manny is on deck, ready for the classic "make them pay."

A close-up of the soon-to-be hero of the night, taking a practice cut.

Manny heads for the batters' box, as all the fans off to the right point at him, thinking he's looking at them, when he's really focusing on a straight-ahead, far-away point as a hitting tecnique. So those folks would probably help him more by staying still and not distracting him. But hey, what are we gonna do, tell little children, "don't be fooled, Manny's NOT looking at you though he appears to be"? Anyway.....

....we delivered the bomb. Manny heads to first as the dugout spills out onto the field like the Kitner boy onto the dock. (Had they performed the half-assed autopsy.) (And had it been the right shark.) Look how close Papelbon is to Manny.

Manny rounding second.

The celebration at the plate. I don't think we need any more descriptions for a while. Like the announcer said as the last out of the '84 World Series happened, "we'll let you enjoy...."













Love this shot of Manny. We couldn't hear this interview as we all cheered and chanted Manny's name all the way through it. It was almost 1 AM but no one was ready to leave. What a shot Manny hit. I was thinking: One of the best things about usually sitting out in right field at Fenway is the angle we have on home run balls over the Monster. To see them on TV, you see it go straight up, and then when they cut to the shot from behind the plate, you see it going up, then down. But from right field, you see that ball jetting from left to right. Your eyes follow the ball, but when it's a real line drive, the background seems to do a stutter-step. You finally focus on a point in the Monster Seats to gauge fair/foul and distance. This one was a no-doubter, even from there. It was in the perfect spot where you knew immediately it was well fair, and that even if it was more toward center, no wall could hold it in.

And so that's most likely my last Fenway Park photo gallery of 2007. A great way to finish. Hope you liked them all, and hope you're clicking to enlarge.

The NLCS is set, with "my" Rockies against the Diamondbacks. We played better against Arizona, so I guess it'd be better to face them. But we'll think about that after we get past Anaheim and then the ALCS. The poor Cubs, man. October 14th of next year will be the 100th anniversary of the last time they won the World Series.

Schilling spins the wheel of fish against "Weava!" Sunday at 3-ish. "So stupahhhd!" I think Weavie's gonna pick the box tomorrow over the obviously superior choice of red snapper.

Manny wins it for us, walk-off style!

Earlier, the moment I've been waiting for for a long time. Joba now 0 for 1 when it counts. But it was the bugs! The bugs, I tells ya! Man, I will never forget that image of seeing Terrible Joba covered in bugs, like a beached whale, on that scoreboard, and again going nuts as the YANKEES CHOKE. Hahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahhahahaha. More pics tomorrow.

Also, A-Rod! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.....

This sounds absolutely bizarre. Some kind of live sit-com with a raw bar and jazz music featuring Red Sox players at the casino. They don't tell you the price, but I checked, and it's only five dollars per ticket. By "five," I mean "five hundred." But it's a six-ticket limit, so grab that $3,000 you have in your couch cushions and support Youk's new charity. Hey, I guess if it all goes to the poor kids, that's cool. I just hope they give you a goodie bag with some fun-size Milky Ways at the very least.

In cheaper, but no less outrageous, ticket news, we're going to some Celtics games this season. *gasps from the crowd* "You must be very rich, or very special. Celtics tickets simply can't be obtained." Wrong! Wrong! People hear this stuff and they believe it. "All tickets sold out." Sure, they sold all their season ticket packages. But they capped those off at a certain point to ensure there were some individual game tickets left. So I went to the team site a few weeks back, and I saw a thing that said "sign up for this free newsletter, and be allowed to buy tickets a few days before the general public on-sale date." So I did, and that day, I went online and got the game we wanted, pretty good seats, too. Then yesterday, they sent an email saying more tickets would be released at noon today. I didn't think of it until 1:30, but I still got some really cheap (NBA cheap, I should say) seats to an early-season game. So, take it from your pal who's going to tonight's Red Sox playoff game for face value, me, tickets are available for everything, you just have to pay the slightest bit of attention. But your first step should always be to go right to the source of the tickets.

Oh, and no, I'm not jumping on the yet-to-really-exist because-they-haven't done-anything-yet Celtics bandwagon. I've just never been to a game at the Boston Garden, and every year my girlfriend and I say we're gonna go, but this is the first year we've both lived in the Boston area, so it's much easier than in the past, when we could really only go to Saturday games, which seem to be pretty rare.

P.S. No one will truly get the title of this post. When the movie Celtic Pride came out on video, the video store in my town had a little sign for it that read, "Celtic Price." So I've always referred to it as such. So, unless you're Jason Lageman or Dan Kish or whoever, you can just keep thinkin' I was referring to the "price" of "Celtic" tickets. Which I was anyway.

So we're up 1-0 and they're down 1-0, just as we planned it.

I love that Cy Wang had nothing tonight. 12-3. Very fun at our house tonight. Tomorrow they face Carmona, who better be on. I'll listen to their 5:00 game on my 1980 Lake Placid Winter Olympics portable radio while I watch batting practice at Fenway before our game.

We've got Dice against Escobar. Escobar had a four-game stretch in which his ERA was right around 10, before throwing a nice game in his last start. I hope Dice's "one bad inning" isn't too bad. We should be okay.

I forgot to mention the Nellie McKay show we saw on Tuesday at the Paradise. The opening band started really late, and during their set, they told us that Nellie wasn't there yet. So after they finished, we all waited at least a half an hour, probably more. She finally gets there, and her first few songs were just kind of tired. But then she started getting all self-deprecating, and it was really funny. That made her more comfortable, and she started playing better. And even when she did mess up, she just made a joke out of it. During one song, she broke into some kind of "Sylvia Plath comedy hour." It was bizzarre. I don't know if she does that on the album.... She also broke out a ukelele for a few tunes, and finished with her "Halloween single," which I believe was released in the summertime.

But she was quite pissed at herself for being lost and late, saying she wished her plane had crashed, followed by telling us possible things that her epitaph might read. This self-deprecation worked, which is good, because it seems like about five years ago, self-dep became trendy--just another way to try and show how cool you are. "I'm so horrible, terrible job by me--isn't this funny? Aren't I great for being so bad? God, I rule for being so self-deprecating. Everyone loves me. I love me. I'm so brilliant to have thought of this chick-scoring technique." Am I right? Back in the day, people who were self-deprecating really hated themselves! At least they were being honest. Anyway, whatever Nellie was doing worked for me. Self-dep is back, baby!

I also wondered what it would be like to see her outside of New York. It seemed to me like her audience was your posh, Upper East Side, "50 is the new 30," "we read the New York Times and it says we should go see Nellie McKay, only we are classy enough to understand her"-types. Then I realized: that's because every time I've seen her, it was in some high-end place, as opposed to a "rock club" like the Paradise. The moment I realized that was when she came out onto the Paradise stage and her hair hadn't been professionally done, Grammy-night-style. I'd only seen her at that Lincoln Center jazz place, and two other fancy-schmancy places in NYC whose names I can't think of right now. But the Boston "rock club" crowd dug her, and showed their support. And Nellie, overall, kicked butt as usual.

Speaking of people named McKay or MacKaye, did you hear that some newspaper reported that Ian Mackaye was hit by a car and died? But that he totally never got hit or anything, and is totally fine? I'm glad I didn't hear about this until after the truth came out. I would have been pissed. One time I heard Tom Hanks died, and I was kind of freaking out. And I only liked Hanks in a couple of films, and in his SNL hosting stints. Imagine how I would've felt if I'd thought one of my true idols had died? Terrible job, whoever came up with those hoaxes.

This photo gallery is brought to you by Ted's Fa m Equip. As my story continues, I'm now in New Bedford on Sunday morning after Saturday's wedding, which followed Friday night's clinching celebration. After a diner breakfast, my mom (my parents were also there for the wedding) went with me up to Fenway, while my dad went back to CT and my girlfriend also drove back up here.

Oh, and also, while in Nu Beige, after the wedding, my girlfriend and I went to our friend Kara's (who made the Pixies quilt, as opposed to cousin Kara, who you know from comments), where Kara and I finally initiated her into the Groundhog Day club. So, now, she can say "paaastry, Larry?" and actually know why. Above is the Pru from the Fens.

After driving around Fenway for a while, Mom and I were about to just give up and park in a lot, but a woman pulled out of a metered spot at the last minute, and we were gold. Free parking on Sundays, of course. Above, Luis Tiant with a kid on crutches on Yawkey Way.

The sun was out, and it was a beautiful-looking day. But, in my T-shirt and shorts, and in the shade of grandstand 32, I was shivering. I went to four games in this final week of the season, in late September in Boston, and, amazingly, I was only cold during the one day game. My mom offered to buy me a sweatshirt, but I told her they'd cost 50 bucks. She said, Nah, this one cost 20! I informed her that the one she was wearing was bought around 1988. She went and looked around later, only to come back and tell me I was right about the 50 bucks thing. Not worth it at all. I did use the money she gave me for the ticket to get my girlfriend an AL East Champs shirt, as she'd been longing to see the stupid Yanks' streak end more than anyone. I've always loved that kind of shirt--I remember begging for a 1988 AL East champs shirt for Xmas that year, and getting one. Still have it. But this year, I think I might wait to see how far we go before buying a shirt. As I look down right now, I see I'm wearing the AL Champs shirt from '04. The ultimate shirt.

David Ortiz and Torii Hunter.

At an earlier game, I'd looked over at section 32 from afar, and estimated that our seats might be right above the walkway, which i thought would be really cool. Turns out I was right. Here's a close-up of the Sox logo on the front of the top of the walkway. So we had no one in front of us, and we could put our feet up, but we had a pole between the mound and plate. But that's something I'm used to by now.

And here's my mom in our cool spot, right above the logo.

Here are some old-school ancestors of Royal Rooters, including a Dooley. I used to occasionally sit right next to the late Lib Dooley by the Sox' on deck circle in the late-80s, when my Yankee fan friend's dad could get the seats. Front row. Sweet. But about the Rooters: So, you know this movie is coming out about Sox fans, tracing us back to the Royal Rooters from 100 years ago. This is the movie I should have made. In 2003, after having read about the Rooters in history books all my life, I decided I wanted to do a documentary on them. I went to the web, and that's when I found redsoxnation.net, aka the "Royal Rooters Message Board." Look me up (ged-maniac) and you'll see I joined in 2003, though I rarely ever posted there--because shortly after, I started this blog, and obviously, I like it this way. Anyway, after the whole "Tessie" thing, I figured, Ah well, I guess I missed my chance, everybody knows about the Rooters now. Turns out I could've just gone ahead and made my doc. But these guys beat me to it, and came up with the angle of tying them into today's fans. So, good for them. I'm not mad at anybody but myself over this one.

Lugo makes a catch.

Manny warms up with Coco. I think this may be my first photo gallery with the red uniforms.

Look at the footwear on Manny.

If you could look to the right of this photo, you'd see Coco making a nice catch at the wall. I like the shadow, anyway.

Mike Lowell. I was trying to get a shot of everyone in the red.

Tavarez started. Here he throws as the dugout looks on.

"Look, now I'm way taller than you."

Manny, batting second one last time.

Papi, Lowell.



I always have fun when I sit near Manny, watching him wave at everybody.

Jason Varitek. I was trying to get him jogging back to first on the grass, as he'd already rounded second on a foul ball, but I was a little late.

Eventually, Tek made it to second base.

&Myers goes first to second.

Manny Ramirez with Jacoby Ellsbury on his head.

Julio Lugo cleaning his sunglasses.

Dustin Pedroia on second.

Papi doing his best Rickey Henderson impression.

Papi crosses paths with his buddy at the end of an inning.

31...32... Some seats to our left eventually became available, so we had a lot of time in completely unobstructed seats.

Ellsbury in right field. You'll notice he wore a blue sleeve instead of red on this day.

Jon "Sid" Lester pitching while Tito looks on.

&Myers is out.

Manny on first, but I was really just getting a shot where you can see the trees outside.

You can barely tell, but Pedroia has just left the game. Tito took him out with one out in an inning, so he could get an ovation, but the PA dude only announced who was coming in, not who was leaving. Between that and the fact that the run from second to the dugout is short, no one really noticed.

But after the next out, they took Lowell out, and this time they said "...replacing Mike Lowell." So he got a big applause and tipped his cap.

Tek doing his usual speedy dong trot. I happened to get him right on second.

The Fenway hawk was out. I actually saw it dive at some prey beyond the park. And a few days before, in pregame, she/he seemed to come out of the bullpen, and swooped around for a while before leaving.

We knew Papelbon would pitch on this day. Note: The Sunday, family section 32 crowd doesn't know the few words to "Shipping Up To Boston" yet, whereas your Friday night, bleacher crowd will sing along to it heartily. We also got a pretty good "after the music stops" sing-along to SC.

Doug Mirabelli up with the bases loaded and two outs in the ninth. But for the second time in the series, I'd see a very frustrating, one-run Red Sox loss. But, this one was very easy to take, trust me. We'd already clinched everything there was to clinch. My mom really wanted to hear "Dirty Water," though....

So, I'd earlier written about how I thought Magglio should beat out A-Rod for MVP. I said he'd probably finish with a BA of about .345, whereas A-Rod would be closer to .305. Turns out he really turned it on, finishing at .363 to A-Rod's .314. So, he beat him by about 50 points, whereas A-Rod beat Magglio by 26 dongs. Is A-Rod gonna get the MVP based solely on home runs? His "astronomical" numbers are really just one inflated number. And his home run total is the same as Papi's last year, and nobody acted like that was a huge deal, except for us since he broke our team's record. Again, as long as the Yanks are knocked out, I don't care who gets it. I'm just saying, I hope the voters take a look at the numbers, instead of thinking, Well, everyone's talking about A-Rod's "earth-shattering, planet-saving year," so of course I'll vote for him. I think people are against him enough so that they'll look for a way to give it to someone else. I hope they notice Magglio's numbers.

Oh my lord, did you ever hear about how back in '83, after Atari made way too many of that god-awful E.T. game, they ended up dumping a lot of cartridges in a landfill? Well, this dude did a whole story on it. I love the part about "why this is interesting."

Happy birthday, Chan! 10-4, good buddy.