The day was beautiful, slightly hazy, but enough of a breeze to keep the humidity down to a comfortable level. I could hear the singing of the morning dove, a little later that usual. It was around 11:00, and I was still clothed in my pajamas, coffee mug in hand. I decided that I better get moving, if I was going to get this article to my editor. "Take me out to the ball game," I said to Robert, who joined me for morning coffee. "I have free tickets to the Paw sox, and they are playing against Toledo. I don't want to waste them. "Great," he said.... And off we went to the game, neither one of us having been to one in about 10 years.

Pawtucket Red Sox is the minor league farm team of the Boston Red Sox. They play at McCoy Stadium, in Pawtucket, and have been playing there since 1973. McCoy Stadium was renovated in 1999, to accommodate more seating and a larger field area. (And more restrooms!) Though not an avid baseball follower per-se, I thought it would be interesting to see a professional team in action. And, enjoy a day out with a special friend. Where else could you view a professional ball team but at McCoy Stadium, and not have to endure sitting on wooden bleaches, while sweltering in the blazing sun?

We came equipped with water, snacks, and binoculars, since most of the players, from where we were sitting, looked to us like ants. As usual, I had to notice what everyone was snacking on, as I munched on my banana chips, soy nuts and dried apricots. The smell from the concession stands was enough to render me senseless. Hot dogs dripping in ketchup, greasy french fries, sweetened friend dough, and soft pretzels literally lifted me from my seat, wanting more of that luscious aroma. Freezer pops and gooey cotton candy that not only stuck to your teeth, but also to some of the seats, passed over me to waiting children. Pop corn, candy, and ice cream bars, ice-cold beer, and soda... an unlimited supply for customers. It was interesting to watch the people devour their goodies, and then dig into their pockets for more money, before the vendors passed them by.

The game started promptly at 1:00. It seemed to be more of a pitchers' game at first, where very few runs were scored. During this time, I started my usual "search" for people I might know. Instead, I noticed families enjoying a day at the ballpark. Families of all sizes, shapes, and ethnicities. Both young and old people seemed to be enjoying the day out. I noticed a particular group of teenage girls sitting behind me, bearing baseball gloves in hope of catching one of the notorious pop flies (we sat behind home plate). They were chanting, "We want a hit", as the game, after 3 innings, was still scoreless. Others were relaxing and enjoying the seemingly endless chants by these youngsters, who obviously were having a grand time. I enjoyed participating in the songs that were played in between innings, such as "YMCA" by the Village People. It gave me an excuse not to act my age, and get away with doing it at the same time!

People of all kinds, came to the ball game this Memorial Day. Score keepers, card keepers, kid keepers, American flag wavers, Paw Sox hats, Red Sox Hats, bald heads, shaved heads, screaming kids, distraught parents... dads that were head wrestling with their kids. Rowdy men already past their limit of 3 beers. Some yelled "we wanna hit." Others yelled "take the bum out" when the pitcher gave up another hit.

Seventh inning stretch brought some relief to the Paw Sox fans, after they were down 5-3 at the beginning of the seventh inning. Tradition has been to stand and stretch in the seventh inning... and then make a mad dash to the restroom. People yawned and stretched, re-adjusted their clothing and swayed to the organ music. Something new for me was when the organist began to play a familiar tune and the whole crowd began singing "God Bless America." Sent chills up my spine as I watched the crowd unite, be respectful, and then yell "play ball" once again, even though the home team was losing.

Days like this are special to me. It reminds me of how my dad used to gather up the family years ago, pack up the old Ford station wagon, and haul us away to watch the Red Sox in Boston. Blistery sun, half-eaten sandwiches,

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and my hero, Carl Yastremski, playing left field.... Made it all worth the long drive to Boston. Now, you don't have to make that long trip to Boston anymore to see a pro ball game. You just have to get into your car, drive 95 North to Pawtucket, and follow the signs to McCoy Stadium to enjoy a day at the ball field.

About the author, Linda Eagleson: Linda Eagleson has been a writer for as long as she can remember. She has been published in local papers, anthologies, and columns, and participates in poetry slams throughout the state.

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