A Year in Review
There are essentially three themes for me. One was Fishing. One was Fenway. One was, well, current conditions, pandemic, politics and all of that. Best left alone. But Fenway and Fishing?
A Year in Review
A stalwart (online) buddy answered my query about Fenway with a single, succinct passage.
“It’s a shithole.”
After having been to the newest stadium in Dallas, right next to the other newest stadium, yeah, compared to that? Fenway would seem like, and I quote, “a shithole.” The seats were small, cramped, and it was a Yankee’s game, so it was Boston’s Red Sox and the Yankees, one of the oldest rivalries of the sport, near as I could tell. I don’t know a whole lot about baseball, other than a very American sport, and the rest of Fenway was discovery. Dropkick Murphys. Dirty Water. Questionable sanitation, so that native name sticks. No complaints.
Dirty Water was an even funnier concept, once I understood some of the allusions.
As a side note, Lobster Rolls. Yes, Boston is home to freedom, and birthplace of nationalism, and I liked Salem, a witchy version of Roswell, but no, the big deal, for me? A game at Fenway.
From a ballpark perspective, or season regular, sure, that native appellation might apply. From a non-native way of seeing it? It was fun.
I bought a single piece of Boston Red Sox ephemera, a ball cap, licensed logo, at the ballpark, at ballpark prices. Still a favorite.
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A Year in Review
As a side interest, the World Series — the playoffs — included those Red Sox beating the arch-rival Yankees. Cool to watch. Other World Series notes was the guy with the pearls, on that other team, and the Houston Astros — Houston has a better ball team — but baseball has an element of luck.
I define luck as skill and preparation meets opportunity.
I still think it was luck. Go Braves?
Didn’t make over to Houston for the World Series. Houston should’ve won. But seeing the Braves shut out the Astros in the final game in series?
A Year in Review
I had several really delightful fishing trips, but there was one, and I don’t want to forget the experience. Late July. Hotter’n’blazes in the early afternoon. Headed towards the dock with a couple of fish “in the box.” Up against a sandy incline, a steep beach on one side of a shipping channel, I had that experience I’ve longed for, the moment when it all comes together. The relative paucity of good fishing opportunities, the timing, phase of the moon?
Light — lightweight — spinning tackle, piece of dead bait on the end of the line, and then, pole bends over. Line starts stripping off, drag on the reel screaming in agony. It all just comes together.
I squatted to pick the pole up from its holder. I just stayed, low to the deck, pole in hand, a mighty redfish struggling against the relatively stationary line. A broad, strong, young shoulder against me. I would pull the pole back, then reel down the line, gradually horsing in a decent fighter. Wasn’t really that big, but had breadth and depth. What it lacked in sheer dimensions it certainly made up for with attitude.
I’ve been fishing the coast for a long time. This was that one experience, that afternoon, when it all came together in a perfect way. I was tired, exhausted, beat up from bouncing around in a bay boat, and relatively jocular, with all my muscles warmed up. No creaking noises when I leaned over to pick up the pole, and no extra noise when I eventually stood up.
Sheer joy, a moment frozen in time.
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A Year in Review
There was one other moment, a latecomer to the year, as my Sister and Mother showed up for T-Day (slash) birthday. For a single afternoon, just a few hours the tap-out, tag-in “day care” was just amazing. A single, fluid, choreographed dance. Better than ballet.
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A Year in Review
Past year’s version.
