Sour Caroline

I picked up the phone when it began to vibrate.

"Hello?"

"CAN YOU HEAR ME?" My mother's voice was slightly shrill, very excited. I could hear the roar of fans behind her.

"YES."

"I CAN BARELY HEAR YOU. DID YOU SEE WHO'S GOING IN?"

"No, who?" My flatmate and our guest were watching "Law & Order."

"FOULKE. WE ARE SOOOOOOOO SCREWED!"

Turns out we were. My mother's first venture to Fenway this season, and Foulkey gives up a grand slam with two outs, two strikes in the top of the ninth. The inning followed a five-run Red Sox sixth, but Keith got into his head. Again.

But I got the traditional family call during "Sweet Caroline," so I sang along and laughed with my mother, who sounded so excited to be there at the park.

Now, I find myself staring at "Extra Innings," watching the grand slam over and over. Can't not. But at this moment, Bronson's talking about his album and the CD release I have promised myself I can't go to. Middle of the week. Saving for New York.

Can't go.

I really can't.

But I reeeeeeeally want to...