That’s a “Wizard of Oz” reference with visions of the Green Monster landing on the Wicked Witch’s ankles.
Last night, as my friend Mark and I were enjoying dinner before the Red Sox-White Sox game, we were told there was a tornado warning in effect for Fenway Park. As we walked from the Prudential Center to Lansdowne Street, the skies got darker and there were a few flashes of lightning.
I LOVE rainstorms and enjoy getting drenched — especially during or after exercising — but tornadoes are a different story.
Mark and I ducked into Jillian’s pub and bowling alley and watched the pregame show on TV until they announced when the game would start. I had a root beer float.
Surprisingly, Fenway was still packed on a rainy tornado-ridden weeknight, but we managed to find seats in the last row of the grandstands behind home plate (with our bleacher tickets).
The weather hysteria was far more enjoyable than the game itself. The anemic Red Sox only managed to get two hits all night.
Here’s the best commentary on the situation: