I've been sick as a dog all week, so a trip to the ol' ballyard was just what I needed.

The commute to Fenway was horrible, traffic everywhere. I'm in need of food but the lines are as usual long, so I head right for the seats. This outfield grandstand view really isn't bad, with the exception of one of those poles that blocks my view of second base. But heck, Fenway is 'charming'.

Of course there's always late arrivals at weekday games, and getting through the aisles and seats is a pain for everyone, especially for those that arrive early enough for first pitch.

At the end of the third I get up for food and the lines are still nuts. I scan every concession stand as I walk through the crowded concourse, and they're all backed up. Finally I get out to Yawkey Way and grab a couple of tacos. I don't like waiting for a table at a good restaurant, why would I wait in line for crap?

Ok now maybe a couple of beers to bring back to the seat. Aw shit, more lines. I head downstairs to the bar and it's dead, but I get a seat and there's many TV's. The barmaid is the typical Fenway barbie doll type in a Varitek shirt, she doesn't recognize me.

Well the beer is cold, but after a couple I realize that it's nuts for a season ticket holder to be sitting in a bar accross the street in order to relax with a couple of drinks and the ballgame. Convince me otherwise. Fenway Park sucks. I want a new stadium.

It's the seventh inning when I head back in. I stop on the ramp behind Section 25 and line up for a beer. At least it's in a can. There's a couple of women in line ahead of me, they have an obvious giddy buzz going. One of them tries the door that's by the line but it's locked, they giggle about something. I ask if they're looking for the clubhouse, they giggle some more and one of them says yes. I tell them where it is and offer to take them there but they rattle someting off about their husbands, grab two handfuls of beer each and head off laughing some more.

As you know, standing room behind Section 25 is one of my favorite places in Fenway. It's more comfortable than most seats, the view is decent as long as people in the seats don't stand up, and it's a great place to talk baseball with strangers. And I've seen more come form behind wins here than anywhere else. I snake my way right up behind the folding chairs, there's a couple of young gals standing next to me with their arms around each other. I start talking baseball with the guy on my other side.

Bellhorn ties it up in the ninth and the place goes nuts; I know this game is ours. A kid in the row in front of me has his rally cap working and when Manny comes up his dad and mom rub the back of his shirt. He's wearing a number 24. I tell the girls next to me that it's going long. It doesn't, but Manny gets on.

When Varitek slaps it to right I look to Sveum and he's waving Ramirez through second on to third. A quick glance to right and still no ball, Sveum is still waving. My voice is shot, I've been hacking all night, but I start yelling and waving: 'Send him, Send him.' Manny scores standing up, at least he didn't go in head first, Fenway erupts.

Heading out down the ramp I see a guy with a Yankee cap. I give it to him, 'That's how it's done my man, that's how it's done.' He isn't wearing that typical Yankee fan smug look on his face.

I love Fenway, even if it does suck.

What do I know?