July 10th, 2008


The good, the bad and the frustrating

It was very nice to get back to Fenway; for some reason it seemed like it had been forever! I didn't have Monday's game but was fortunate to have Tuesday night and Wednesday day for 24+ hours of baseball. Tuesday was interesting; the crowd was supportive of Lester but relatively quiet, and I was hoping it would be another day where "Sweet Caroline" saved the day. I know there are folks who don't love it, especially when we're losing, but some nights it seems to remind everyone that being at Fenway is not a spectator sport--you have a role to play, and that role is to make sure the team knows you're there. Sometimes the crowd seems to collectively remember that they have hands to clap and voices to yell and cheer with, and while of course that's not all there is to creating offense, well, I think it helps. And seeing Manny at the plate, and hoping deep down that it would be the Manny we know and not the Manny of the road trip, and seeing him swing, and the ball arcing into the night... amazing.

Quick change at home and back out for a toasty sweaty day game--it was little consolation that it wasn't nearly as hot as it was a couple of weeks ago. I wore the shirt that the folks at the Strike Three Foundation sent me, though as it turned out I probably should have just brought it and asked Craig Breslow to sign it, as the Twins were out with no sign of the Sox when I got in. (I did yell to Craig, though perhaps I might have been more diplomatic--I asked him if they were ever going to let him pitch again, getting a helpless-bordering-on-ticked-off shoulders-raised shrug in response.) Both days he did long toss in the worst possible spot for me to shoot him, in the far corner of left field. The Sox pitchers eventually came out, so I ran over to right field to shoot there (and was busted by Jere and his camera, which never fails to amuse me). Craig came over to visit with his former teammates and I did get some good ones there. Great game, of course (except for the small matter of Breslow struggling when I was rooting for him to do well--hey, Twins, that's what happens when you sit a hot pitcher for eight days, okay?); I even had the delightful experience of letting the 12-year-old boy next to me borrow my cameras and show signs of being a natural with the lens!

So, you ask, where are the pictures?

Well, I had a ton of memory cards to dump to the computer, and was separating them in a way I normally don't into different folders, and at some point I did something that caused all the photos in one folder to disappear. :-/ No idea what I did--and I wish I knew, because I'd rather be angry at myself than baffled. (Didn't lose any of the ones my new friend took, in case his folks are reading--those are safe and you'll have 'em soon!) I ran Get Data Back, which has saved me in the past, on the memory card from which those photos came, and it did recover a bunch of them--right up to Breslow coming out of the pen. (Fate has it out for me. I do have photos of him that are good from the second camera, but still.) sigh. I'm running it again on my hard drive, so see if it can find the versions that were somehow deleted from the folder; if that doesn't work I'll try another recovery program on the memory card. Not the end of the world, of course, but in addition to Breslow I have Cashie's HR and some other stuff I'd like to have back.

Anyway, efforts to get my stuff back pretty much ate up my editing time (and time I wanted to use to read things folks have written that I suspect I shouldn't peer at at work...) last night; tomorrow, no matter what, I'll get a few up. I've got a hatless sweaty smiling post-run Scott Baker shot that I love, as well as some of Hansen laughing (I'm convinced Gary Tuck was giving him a hard time about me shooting, because he kept looking from Tuck to me and back again--yes, he could have been looking at anyone near me in the stands, but it was very suspicious!).
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    frustrated gah