Ever since I could remember, I have always had a great interest and love for the game of baseball. As a kid, I would spend countless hours in the backyard with my grandfather, or even by myself, tossing, hitting and fielding a baseball. When I wasn't in the yard pretending to be Nomar Garciaparra I would watch the Boston Red Sox games on TV with my Grandfather. Even in my early adolescence, as impatient as most are, I had the patience to sit there and watch the Sox.With my eyes glued to the screen with a look of anticipation fixed on my face ready to mimic my grandfather with the excitement of a home run hit or the frustration of Mo-Vaughn striking out. Call me crazy, but I was addicted, even as a young boy, to Boston Red Sox baseball. My first experience at Fenway Park came when I was 9 years old, accompanied by my Grandfather. My jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of America's oldest ball park. People all around me decked out in their Sox gear would chant "LETS GO REDSOX!" With grass so green and precisely cut, looking too perfect to be real. With the scent of hot dogs from screaming vendors "GET YA HOT DOGS HERE" providing an overpowering aroma, how could you refuse? I gazed up at the giant green wall in left field, there it was, the green monster. I was speechless, I was in awe. Recalling being on the shoulders of my Grandfather as we walked towards our seats, a memory I would never forget. Throughout the game my grandfather would haggle the players on the other team with the line that always stuck in my head "You couldn't hit water if ya fell out of a boat!" The Sox went on to win the game, I had just become a victim of Red Sox fever.
I continued to play baseball in my youth and actually developed some decent skills as a catcher. My grandfather was there, every game, every at bat, every pitch, to guide me along the way. In the offseason, we would follow all the Sox news and pay close attention to the prospects and free agents they...
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