Ode to the Fenway Frank

Last night I once more ventured down Yawkey Way and entered the hallowed grounds of Fenway Park to watch our beloved Boston Red Sox take on the Evil Empire (i.e. the NY Yankees). This night I was joined by Hannah and her brother Joel and sister Caroline. This was Caroline's first major league baseball game and we decided that if ever a girl would be converted into a baseball fan, nine innings in the bleachers at a sox v. yankees game would do it. This is the fifth year season that I've purchased what's known as a "Sox Pack" where you buy the same four seats to four different games throughout the season - these packs always include a Yankees game and this was it. Temperature at game time was a brisk 62F and once the crowd started chanting "Traitor" when Johnny Damon came to the plate I knew there was no better place for me to be at that moment in time.
Hannah, Joel and Caroline met me at our seats with a beer waiting, and by the third inning (and the fourth pass of the hot dog concession guy) I was ready for my Fenway Frank. It is a simple meal - a boiled hot dog (I do prefer grilled) on a white bread bun with Heinz ketchup and Gordon's musturd, but at the ballpark, nothing else will do. There have been other posts dedicated to the Doger Dog and Petco Park among the food bloggers that I've passed by, but historically it's hard to compare to eating (and the baseball, of course) at Fenway. Caroline continued the ballpark buffet with both frozen lemonade (brrrrr, who eats this when it's 50F outside?) and a pretzel. Unfortunately, I was too focused on us tearing up the Yankees to take many pictures...

Caroline was convinced. The normal drunk bleacher creatures were sitting right behind us keeping us entertained for the majority of the evening (until they started spilling beer down our backs). A few fights, the wave and a solid victory later and I think she's converted - and will hopefully be back for a game in July...
Baseball and hot dogs are the definition of summer to me and have been since 1987 when my dad took me to my first SD Padres game (hi dad!). Although it is still surprisingly cool here on the cusp of Memorial Day weekend (sort of nice to be able to sip your $6.25 beer slowly before it gets too warm) with the Red Sox winning, summer is definately on its way!