Ahhhhhh Marathon Monday.  The traditional 11 am start.  I love having these “Only in Boston” events.  It means everything to us yet absolutely nothing to anybody outside of our borders.  That’s how it should be.  I’ve gone to my fair share of these games, but my good friend Duggo has added to the tradition of the day by bringing me, Mrs Giro and Sister Giro to the game on a yearly basis.  We had box seats in Section 5, but we were in row XX so it wasn’t as explicit as row XXX.  Twenty Four hours later I’m still giddy about the game, because those are my favorite ones to attend.  I love when each team keeps battling back and forth over the entire nine innings.  Up by one.  Tie game.  Up by two.  Tie game.  Up by one again.  Tie game.  The players get into it too.  They run harder.  The defense gets more exciting.  They’re more patient at the plate.  It was a classic game.  Oh and it included a couple of Big Papi home runs followed by a near third.

Naturally, as each game passes, Mark Loretta is helping me to quickly mourn the loss of Bill Mueller and Edgar Renteria.  Loretta represents the guts and quiet efficiency that Mueller had and the production in the 2 slot that Renteria didn’t.  It’s a perfect mix.  When “Every Day” Eddie Guardado went 2-0 you jus knew the fastball was coming and it was being cruised over the plate.  All Eddie had to do was look over at the on-deck circle to see Big Papi and the decision was made.  But here is where Fenway separates itself from the rest of the league as far as fan awareness is concerned.  We were on our feet his entire at bat, after Youkilis beat out the infield hit.  That’s when we first noticed that the sun came out.  The omen had arrived.  It was our day.  When the count went 2-0 the place became electric.  One of the guys behind us, who were awesome fans to be around all game long, screamed out “Don’t swing!  Please don’t swing on a 2-0 pitch.”  Then boom.  It was over.  The walk-off home run is such a wonderful thing.  We start hugging each other and ritualistically acting like a bunch of 6 year olds hopped up on birthday cake and 1 liter of Coke.  Nobody left right away either, which was a surprise.  I loathed the fans last year and they annoyed me on Wednesday, but on Marathon Monday they won me back for a moment; a moment that I cannot stop enjoying.

On a side note, that last sentence would not have been possible if it hadn’t been for Mark Loretta.  In the eighth inning the Nation’s sweetheart, Jonathan Papelbon, was warming up in the bullpen.  He’s hit buzz status, because the chatter picked up as you heard random shouts of “Pap’s up!” and “Papelbon is #58 right?” while the noise just kept increasing as word spread.   The game was tied, heading into the ninth, so he naturally took a seat.  When Foulke struggled in the ninth(who got jobbed when Beltre should have been called out on strikes two pitches in a row) it was Mike Timlin who came in to relive him.  However, since Timlin’s number starts with a 5 as well, half of the crowd thought Papelbon was entering the game and they blew up when he came jogging out of the bullpen.  This is what transpired. 

PA Announcer:  “Ladies and gentlemen.  Now pitching for the Red Sox, Mike Timlin.”

Crowd:  “Awwwwww”. 

I keep telling myself to drop this issue, but I can’t and I’m about to start loosening the bolts on the wheels of the bandwagon.

Finally, if anybody read the box score today you would see that Manny Ramirez had two singles.  Both would have been home runs in every other ballpark in the world.  Unfortunately the Green Monster swallowed them up and since Manny hit them at 2000 mph he could only make it to first base.  Tampa Bay is in town.  What a perfect time for Manny to get it going.