2005 Baseball Road Trip Part VIII
Boston

After spending a rather short and uncomfortable night in the front of our car, we headed into the Advanced Auto Parts that we had been camped out in front of early on July 17. We weren’t sure how much help they’d be able to give us, but we knew that any help was better than none, and luckily for us, the guys who worked there were more than willing to lend a hand. As soon as the store had opened we were inside describing our problem to the manager, and less than five minutes later he was wheeling a tester out to our car to hopefully give us an idea of what needed to be fixed. After some testing, he told us that it was probably our starter and that he had the part in stock. He called over to the local Sears garage and asked if their mechanic would be able to fit us in that day and if we would be able to bring our own starter, which would be sold to us by Advanced for $107, and have him install it. The guy from Sears said that he couldn’t guarantee that he could even get the car into the garage that day, and as far as bringing our own part, we were out of luck. If he was going to replace the starter, he would have to charge us $280 plus labor. We were starting to get a little bit desperate since we had a train to catch the next day, so that we could watch a game in Boston. The guys from Advanced told us not to worry though, and that they were sure they could have us going by the time the closed that evening. That was good enough for Andy and I, so we decided to stick it out.

At 1:00 that afternoon, one of the guys from Advanced headed out to the car with a toolbox, and pulled out the starter so that they could test it inside. They tested the old starter and didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, but just to be safe, they put the new starter on the car anyway. The car still didn’t start.

By this time, I was starting to think the trip might be coming to an abrupt end with my car rotting away on a parking lot in Dunmore, Pennsylvania, while Andy and I found a plane back to Reno. The guys at Advanced had one more idea of what the problem might be, and so they pulled out my battery and threw it on their tester inside. It didn’t take very long for the machine to spit out the result. Our battery that had been replaced the day before, was now completely dead and wouldn’t hold a charge. The battery was still under warranty, but Advanced didn’t carry that brand of battery, and therefore couldn’t honor the warranty. They did however let us borrow a battery, so that we could drive over to a local auto parts store that did carry that brand. We took the dead battery to Cee Kay’s in Moosic, Pennsylvania, and after explaining what happened, had our battery replaced for free. The guy behind the counter wasn’t sure that he could honor the warranty, but decided to replace it for us, and take it up with the battery company the next day. He was still unsure as we were leaving, but said “What’s right is right, and even if I don’t get reimbursed for this, I know what I did was right.” We thanked him profusely for going out on a limb for us, and headed back over to Advanced. After returning the battery and going over some final car advice with them, we said our thanks and headed toward Newark. Overall, I would have to say that the people in Dunmore and Moosic were some of the nicest people I met along my way. Not only did the employees at Advanced spend a whole day trying to get our car fixed and running, but the owners of Cee Kay’s potentially took a hit so that we could get back on the road. Very cool of everyone involved and you still have my utmost thanks.

Before we left the Advanced, the guys told us that we should consider taking the car to a Toyota dealer soon, just to make sure that everything was fixed, and that there wasn’t still an underlying problem. They also told us that it seemed that there was something fishy with the starter, but that they couldn’t be sure with the equipment that they had. After making it to Newark, I dropped Andy off at the hotel that my Dad had once again put us up in, and headed out to find a Toyota dealer. After getting stuck in Long Island traffic, paying a $6 bridge toll, and finding a closed Toyota dealer that didn’t appear to have a repair department; I called it a night and headed back to meet up with Andy. We were undecided on what to do. We both agreed that we should still go to Boston the next day, since it wouldn’t require a car, but after that we disagreed. I thought that we should head off towards the next ballparks, and attempt to get as far as we could before the car died again. Andy thought that it was a better idea to take the car to a Toyota dealer in the area, and wait until they could be sure it was fixed. After some arguing back and forth, I finally agreed that Andy’s idea was best, and decided to take as much time as necessary to fix the car. I wasn’t happy about it at the time, but in just a few days I’d be glad I listened to him.

After another short night, we woke up at 4:30 and got on an Amtrak train to Boston. I slept most of the way, and I’m pretty sure Andy did too. I originally didn’t have a place to stay in Boston, until just a few days earlier when I was set up once again by my mom and her friends. One of her co-workers was friends with a guy who lived in Massachusetts, who had a friend who lived in Boston named Bill Shapiro. After emailing back and forth with Bill a few times before we hit Boston, I was pretty sure that I knew what was going on. I called Bill when we arrived and he gave us some more detailed directions towards his house. We hopped on a subway that took us to Davis Square, and then we got lost. Bill had told us to take the Somerset Trail, which would put us out pretty close to his house. I thought that it sounded easy enough, and Bill told us that it was a pretty major walking trail in the area, so we headed off. After spending five minutes getting soaked by the rain in Davis Square though, we realized that we had no idea where the walking trail was. Since it was supposed to be a pretty major trail, we decided to ask someone who was from the area for directions. After looking around at the people in the area, we settled on a reliable looking guy in a business suit. Big mistake. As soon as he opened his mouth, I saw that he had about five teeth total. He slurred some directions at us and pointed in a direction that we immediately headed off in. After walking that way for another five minutes, it became apparent once again that we were still lost. We headed into a public library and decided to try our luck there. None of the librarians had ever heard of the trail but a kid who came in on his bike had. He pointed us in the right direction and we headed off again. After walking another 10 minutes and still not seeing it, we stopped into an antique store and asked the owners if they knew where the path was. They told us that we were almost there and were heading in the right direction. We eventually made it to the trail and after another 20 minutes, had reached the Shapiro’s house. Bill had left keys in the mailbox for us, and we headed inside.

After watching some TV and relaxing for a few hours, we headed off to the game. Our return trip to the station took only about 20 minutes total, and we realized that the path actually was pretty popular. Unfortunately for us, we happened to have a habit of asking for directions from people who only knew how to get us further lost. We hopped back on the subway and were immediately surrounded by Red Sox fans. I had debated with myself the entire way whether or not I was going to wear any of my Yankees gear, and decided that my choice not to, was probably pretty smart. We got to the stadium and spent some time enjoying everything that was going on outside. This was by far the best stadium that we had been to, as far as the surrounding neighborhood and outside activities go. The entire area outside the stadium was like one big block party. The stadium wasn’t too bad either. It kills me to type anything nice about Boston or the Red Sox, being a Yankees fan, but it was surreal sitting in the bleachers there. My entire life I had watched hundreds of baseball games with the Green Monster decorating the outfield, and there it was, standing no more than twenty feet away. I had always been taught to hate everything about Boston and it’s stadium, but it was hard not to appreciate all of the history that had taken place here.

The game was pretty good considering that the Red Sox were playing the Devil Rays. I felt very odd watching the game and not cheering for either team. I had decided before I left that I would always cheer for the home team in any stadium, with just two exceptions. Under no circumstances, would I cheer for the Red Sox, and if the Yankees were the visiting team in any stadium, I would most certainly root for them. So there I sat in Fenway Park cheering for neither team, yet watching the game with great interest. The Yankees were within striking distance of the Red Sox after winning a series against them that weekend, and a Red Sox loss, coupled with a Yankees win, would make New York the AL East leaders. It was a huge game for me as a fan, yet I didn’t make a peep the whole time.

The Red Sox got on the board in the first inning, but the Devil Rays tied it up in the second. The Rays would take the lead for good in the sixth and hold on for a 4-1 win. I also got to see a few things that were extremely entertaining, that weren’t necessarily related to the on-field action. Anybody who watches Sports Center or Baseball Tonight should be fairly familiar by now with the footage of Manny Ramirez going into the Green Monster during a mound visit, and come racing back out just in time for play to resume. I got to see that happen live. At first, nobody in our section knew exactly what was going on. I hadn’t noticed that Manny had exited the field, but pretty soon everyone in our section was standing and looking toward left field. It didn’t take very long for me to realize that something was missing. Or more specifically, the left fielder was missing. I had no idea where he went until he came out of the wall just before the next play was about to start. It was the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen happen live, but I guess that’s one of those trademark “Manny being Manny” moments.

In the top of the 9th inning we had some more excitement in the game, this time involving a controversial call at first base. On a ground ball to the first baseman, Curt Schilling, who had come in to pitch the 9th inning, went to cover first base. The flip was made and the runner was called safe. From where I was sitting, it could have gone either way. It was a bang-bang play that only the first base umpire could have called. Schilling started arguing and the umpires got together to apparently review the call. I have never seen umpires get together to review a judgment call such as that, and I was even more shocked to see them overturn the play, and call the runner out. I apparently wasn’t as shocked as Lou Piniella though, who came roaring out of the dugout and erupted in that classic Piniella-style. He got into a verbal argument with the umpires, which escalated when he was ejected from the game. That’s when Piniella went off. He kicked dirt, threw his hat, ran all over the place, and generally made a fool of himself. He was eventually dragged off the field by a couple of his assistant coaches and the game continued. The run that had been kept from scoring on the controversial play, ended up scoring later on in the inning anyway, so Piniella got tossed in vain.

As we were leaving the stadium, I was relishing in the Red Sox loss knowing that the Yankees were beating the Rangers 9-6. First place was just a matter of time now. We hopped back on the subway and after talking to my Dad back home, I found out that the Yankees had blown the lead. My perfect night was starting to fall apart. By the time we got back to Bill’s house though, the Yankees were in the midst of a comeback, and the night was perfect again. I was in a good mood that I hoped would carry over the next day during the car shop visit that was coming soon. Almost as soon as the game was over, Andy and I headed for bed since we had to be up early again the next day.

After sleeping in until 5:00 on the morning of July 18, Andy and I hiked back to the subway station and boarded another Amtrak train. I slept pretty well again on the train, and was feeling good when we got back to Newark. The feeling wouldn’t last too long though, because as soon as I woke Andy up, the road trip again looked like it was in serious jeopardy. Andy was absolutely passed out when I found him and I had to hurry him awake so that we wouldn’t miss our stop. He jammed his shoes on his feet and as soon as he stood up, a look of pain shot across his face. I asked if he was alright and he said “I think I have another hernia.” I couldn’t believe it. I asked him if he was sure (as if he wouldn’t be sure having had a hernia just a few months earlier), and if he was going to be alright. He told me that the first thing we needed to do was get off the train, and I realized that a big change was about to happen. We got off the train and managed to get to the front of the airport when Andy started calling home. He told his parents what he thought had happened, and they called his doctor. His doctor told him that he needed to come home immediately if he thought he had a hernia, and that he would be scheduled for surgery right away. He didn’t need to tell me, but we both knew he was going home.

We rode the hotel shuttle back to grab Andy’s things, and said our goodbyes. He wished me luck, and headed back on the shuttle to the airport. I would find out later that his trip back to Reno was anything but smooth. He had to pay $900 for an airplane ticket on such short notice, and missed two planes along the way. He had been scheduled to get back to Reno late that night, but didn’t get home until late morning the next day. He spent the night in his sleeping bag in the Denver airport, and had to go through a thorough screening every stop along the way, because he had bought his ticket with no notice whatsoever.

My mind was whirling as I walked back to my car at the prospect of having to finish out the road trip alone. I wanted to think about all the long drives that were ahead of me that I would have to do on my own now, but decided to take it one step at a time. The first thing that I needed to do was get my car to the Toyota dealer that I had an appointment at, and get it fixed. I showed up for my appointment a couple of hours early, which clearly annoyed the guy that I was dealing with. I explained to him that I had nothing else to do, and hoped that they might be able to work it in early. Right away he loosened up and started talking to me like I was his own kid. I’d told him about the repairs at all of the various garages so far, and he lectured me on the importance of finding reliable garages to do any and all repair work. He promised that he’d get my car in as soon as possible and have me on the road by that evening.

As I waited, I started looking at my schedule and realized that I was in for the long haul. I already had to make a couple of changes, since I was supposed to be in Pittsburgh that night, and Cleveland the next day. Normally, I would have just postponed each city by one day, but I had tickets waiting for me in Cleveland that had been arranged by Karen Calder, whom I’d stayed with on my first trip through Texas. I had a few off days coming up in my schedule, so it wouldn’t be a big deal, and realized that I could still make it the rest of the way. I called home a few times and told everyone that I was now on my own. The reactions were mixed, but they all said the same thing. “You have to finish this thing.” I had been having second thoughts about continuing since my car was being rather unreliable, but decided to give it one more shot.

While I was sitting there going over my options, I was told that my starter was in fact the cause of all of my car problems, and that it would need to be replaced. I authorized the repair and waited for my car to be ready. According to the Toyota representative, my starter had something wrong with it which would only happen intermittently. This explained why the guys at Advanced first got a negative test result on it, and then a positive one when they pulled it out a few hours later. I asked if this could have been realized and fixed the first time that I had been having problems, and he told me “most definitely.” I was back to being pissed off about my car problems, but was glad that it was now under warranty by Toyota, and that the problem was fixed for good (which it was).

Once my car was fixed, I headed west to wards my next stadium, Jacobs Field in Cleveland. I spent the night in a campground near Treasure Lake, Pennsylvania. The site was pretty nice and had full bathrooms and everything. I didn’t like having to pay $17 to spend the night in a tent, but I was so tired at that point that I didn’t care anymore.

Coming up next time, I go to Jacobs Field in Cleveland, PNC Park in Pittsburgh, and then hit the nation’s capital for a little bit of R&R.

Kevin Naughton is getting ready to mark a full year since he started his road trip. He can be found on the Cafe's forums where he posts as luckygehrig.

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