"The night the Sox clinched first place in the division I was checking into the urgent care room for my HMO because one of my eyeballs was frozen in place, and my eyelid was blown up like a balloon. It was Friday, about 5:30, when I put the call into my plan. The usual office that sees me was full - no appointments left. The only center with an opening was located at 133 Boylston Street - as in directly across from Fenway Park. So there I was, in no way fit to drive, maneuvering past pre-game yahoos to get to the parking garage (I was unable to turn my head to the left at this point - not fun on a street full of revelers - most of whom I assume began drinking early). I made it to the appointment where after five minutes they determined I needed to hit the emergency room at Mass. Eye and Ear. They convinced me not to drive and called me a cab. After meeting the triage nurse, I sat moaning and groaning, a blanket around my shoulders and one on my head to shield me from the light (I was pretty sensitive to light). Finally inside, a few tests by the eye doctor revealed to him I needed a CT scan. By this time, my wife had secured someone to watch the kids and came and joined me. Finally, in the outer area, awaiting the CT technician, I caught glimpse of Channel 5, where sports anchor Mike Lynch was on field interviewing David Ortiz, who seemed mighty happy. Though really only adept with one eye, and not close enough to hear the TV, I surmised the Sox had clinched. Now here I am, in room 1129 of Mass Eye and Ear, two days later, on heavy doses of antibiotics. Apparently a severe sinus infection spread to the front and back of my eye. So I was indeed next to Fenway Park, if only briefly, for the clinching game, and my Honda Accord was parked across the street for the whole thing, and whatever post game celebration that followed. It is safe to say that I will always remember where I was for this momentous occasion."
Anyway - out of the hospital, and it's a blessing that all seems to be calming down physically, and that the Sox have come so far. So I close with a great poem, "A Blessing," by James Wright.
A Blessing – James Wright
Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl’s wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break