So I can finally reconcile wearing Sox gear. I’m sure that half of you people already knew about this joint - thanks for not telling me about it - but I just stumbled onto ‘47 on Newbury Street, and this place has some seriously fresh merch.
Of course, some of what they carry is a little lame - they have the biggest smorgasbord of broken-in frat boy hats I’ve ever seen.
That’s what the final beer served at Fenway on any given night looks like. Literally copped one pitch before the lame ass last call cut-off.
Originally posted on soxmobster.tumblr.com. Chris Faraone's book, "How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Sox", will arrive at Fenway and on bookstore shelves everywhere in 2012.
This is what life looks like from the State Street Pavilion. Great seats and all - especially if you only paid 20 bucks (on the street) like my cheap ass - but if I were to work in finance like a giant douchebag, I’d probably think I deserved something closer to the field.
Originally posted on soxmobster.tumblr.
BATMAN IS COOL. BAT GIRL IS HOT!!!
I think it’s safe to say that the Sox-Yankees feud influences every last facet of life around here. People hate it when I speak to this point, but, having spent more than two decades as a New Yorker, I can confidently say that there are no Cheers billboards on the A train that say, “Sam Malone is one Red Sox pitcher who it’s alright to cheer for.
Sitting in the front row. This is why I roll solo - cheap ass single tickets in the sections where I can buy beer. Also - by the way - the beers are cheaper in the sweet seats. What’s up with that shit?
Cigarette smokers banned to the alleyway behing Who’s on First. Lots of noise out here. And this Chablis ‘79 should be served slightly chilled, but it’s room temperature - what are we, animals?
You see what happens when I put the spankin’ new rally cap on, son. Back to back homers. Boo-ya.
Here we go yo. Ain’t nuthin’ but a Green thang.
Okay so today begins my search for the perfect B hat (which I’m thinking is a navy or multi-flavored panel New Era with a red brim) and I’m noticing a trend. As you see here at the team store on Yawkey, all of the bent brim frat hats are out in the open, while the fitteds are mysteriously behind the counter. Hmmmmm.
Douche Patrol at Fenway.
This is how you celebrate a much needed Sox victory. One of these polluted yard sales just spilled a beer all over me by accident, and for some reason I just don’t give a shit. Good times up in this bitch. What a season it’s gonna be - I think I actually finally care. At least when I’m hammered.
Originally posted on soxmobster.
Here’s how the conversation went with the guy next to me at the Lansdowne Pub during the last inning:
HIM: JD Drew sucks. I have a fucking calendar that I use to count down the days until his contract expires.
ME (borrwingo Phoenix sports and cleaning guy Pat D’s line from earlier today): JD Drew is Roger Dorn.
First Sox Mobster quasi-celeb Fenway sighting of the season - the one and only Nabo Rawk of Wasted Talent out here in fresh Wallabees hangin’ with all the wicked awesome kheds.