Sox from the Box
My nine year old youngest son is at a Sox game tonight with a friend's family. When they invited him to come along, I figured the seats would be somewhere high in right field. That's where I'm used to sitting.
About an hour ago he borrowed a cell phone to call home to check in from the game. He's in box seats. He went on some sort of tour. He touched the trophy. He got to try on a World Series championship ring. He's so close he can see the threads on the ball. He's placing dinner orders with a waitress.
It's the biggest night of his short life. Lucky brat. Wish I was there.
