La Verdad - Otra Vez
Now, neither Linda nor Caleb are too easily impressed by stars. I guess it's the SoCal thing. I have never been, either, but for different reasons. More times than I can count, I've walked right past someone only to have a companion say incredulously, "Don't you know who that was?!" Oh? So? I never was a gawker.
So I might be forgiven if I had a mini-star-struck moment tonight. I was, as we say, verklempt. We were seated right near two of my heroes of the season, Dustin Pedroia (an incredible rookie year and near perfect fielding, never mind clutch big hits) and Mike Lowell (RBI record for 3B franchise history; and a calming presence for the team, that sly twinkle in the eye...)
I love the way both these guys play, their professionalism, their passion. I discovered the joy of baseball through my husband and it's been an absolute thrill for me these past few years. I could not be more excited about this Red Sox team, though the team that won World Series on my honeymoon three years ago will always be special.
While Linda laughed at me, we debated what body part I might ask them to sign, I tried not to stare intrusively or idiotically. I think my mouth was closed. My poor husband tried to hide behind his menu and begged me to get a grip. Alas, no sharpie. Signature would wash away. What's plan B...?!
Linda suggested I walk over and say thanks for the great season. But I didn't want to impose on their dinner. I asked our server (a lean, mean, yoga machine) over. We'll call her "Cupcake." Maybe we could send them a round of drinks? But what to send? They didn't seem to be drinking anything. We decided on a round of shots for their table, good Tequila. Alas, the drinks were declined with gracious thanks. "No Tequila before a game."
That left us with shots untouched. We drank to the birthday girls (Linda and Cupcake) and the boys of summer (Mike and Dustin). So Cupcake, next time you see Mike and Dustin, tell them thanks for me, won't you?