Show Me the Balloons!

It’s the 100th anniversary of Fenway (or as my sister calls it, Red Sox Stadium), so they’re doing all these neat promotions. At the home opener last week, they invited back all former players and managers. I wasn’t there, but I assume it was like a big party. Isn’t that what baseball is, essentially: a valid reason to day drink, hang in the sun, and eat a lot of hot dogs?

Today they’re hiding 100 balloons around the city. I can’t stop refreshing the Sox twitter account in hopes that there’ll be an update saying their next batch of balloons will be hidden somewhere around my office - or better yet, somewhere en route to my gym.

I’m not the biggest Sox fan, but who doesn’t love going to Fenway? (minus the miserable trip on the green line) I love pestering B w/ all my questions and getting up every other batter or so to grab a beer, then a soft pretzel, then some cracker jacks (don’t worry, I always make sure to get an aisle seat so I’m not disturbing the folks who are bored to death actually watching the game).

Besides the free tickets, I just want to win something. I have a pretty sweet track record; I won three iPods in my college career. Don’t hate. So I’m hoping if the crew hiding the balloons around the city makes it into my neck of the woods, I have a pretty good shot. It’s not like there’s millions of other workers and tourists out enjoying this nice day to get in my way or anything.