The April day I fell for the ‘Boys of October’
On baseball’s Opening Day that year, I was 12-years-old. It was a Tuesday, and it was going to be the biggest day of my life. Julie McNamara, my new best friend, had extended the invitation from her father. “Would you like to come to see the Red Sox with us next week? It’s Opening Day at Fenway.” Would I? Would I? Are you kidding me? The only big deal event I had ever attended was when my mom took me to the Ice Capades at Boston Garden. But Fenway Park?! W-O-W. I loved baseball. At that age, I was making the transition from diehard tomboy with a good right arm, to ...