Tuesday night, Phill Jupitus took me along on his annual Fenway Hajj. I can’t thank him enough for letting me park my broke-ass in the front row of the Green Monster with him. It’s a rarity for me to even see the games in HD. (I usually tune into the radio broadcasts on a clock radio.)
I was squarely in Dan Tobin’s camp when it comes to the 8th Inning Anthem, but there is no denying what I have done:
You can see the look of terror as I realize I’m about to sing The Song That Makes No Fucking Sense at a Baseball Game. But then I just went with it, and it was fun.
Unless I find myself spontaneously singing Living on a Prayer at some dive in Revere, I don’t think I’m at risk of becoming a Pink Hat.
If you’re not familiar with Phill’s work, I highly recommend the Perfect Ten podcast. And if you’re into that sport fer’ners enjoy so much, there’s this. Listing all of his other awesome projects would require far more computing power than I have access to.