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To: kodiak_bull who wrote (94960)	12/24/2001 11:29:28 AM
From: Terry D	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 95453

I meant hours until the close. The universe revolves around Manhattan because God likes it best of all - and the country gave up hating for a couple months - but the honeymoon is almost over. I took the Lex from 77th to countless games - it was a lot better than sitting in that traffic. There is a -G- in their somewhere. And to all, a good night! td

To: kodiak_bull who wrote (94960)	12/24/2001 4:40:41 PM
From: chowder	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 95453

KB, >> I lived in greater Boston for about 6 years, went to some Bosox games, could never really understand the fever. << You started too late in life to appreciate what the game had to offer for Boston fans. Being a Bosox fan starts in early childhood. It was a time when sports heroes stayed with the same team for most of their career. You got to know the players. You lived your life through their success and failures. Every kid wanted to be a Williams or a Yastremski. The year Yaz won the triple crown, was one of the most memorable baseball years I had growing up. Traffic would come to a stand still before entering the Callahan Tunnel every time Yaz came up to bat. In restaurants, in theatres, in taxi cabs, at school, virtually every where you went or looked, people would ask; what did Yaz do today? I used to shine shoes, stand outside the Stop & Shop and offer to carry groceries for the old ladies, I had a paper route, and I'd cut grass to save money to attend games at Fenway Park. Get'cha hot dogs heah! Ice cold beeah heah! Those were the days. (Although I didn't get to drink the beer, I was too young.) The summer nights where you fell asleep with the game playing on your transistor radio under your pillow was one of the most fun things I recall as a fan of the game. Your status in the neighborhood was determined by how well you knew the stats. We'd have friendly competitions seeing who knew most of the team's batting averages. I recall our math teacher teaching us how to formulate batting averages and we didn't have calculators back then. Those were the days of one television in the house and the only time most of the family gathered, without fighting and bickering with each other as most siblings did, was to watch a Red Sox game. Those were the good ole days. Somehow baseball just isn't the same anymore. da-nostalgic-bum