Took in last night’s game from the Monsta seats, front and center in the front row. A very cool experience and completely new perspective. As a denizen of the Section 16 grandstands, where I pretty much have to vaccuum-pack my 6’2″, 215 pound frame into the seat, it was nice to watch a game without my knees pressed painfully into the seat (or, more often than not, shoulders) before me. In fact, it was nice to have no seat before me at all. Just that wide expanse of green. Manny waved to us (the collective “us” that is) almost every time he took the field, and we got a spectacular view of that fan who ran on the field getting levelled by the security guard (his accomplice, seeing about ten guys running toward him, simply surrendered and dropped himself to the grass).

The Monster seats are like their own little world, far removed from Fenway yet very much a part of it. Bob Lobel and Johnny Valentin were up there, doing a pre-game show (or taping a TANG commercial… I’m not sure which it was). Also, as the Monster seats have their own beer and food stands and rest rooms, you can — sit down, now — get your food and brewskis and get back to your seat in less than a half hour. The food choices are limited… no Fenway Franks, only the obscenely large (accent on the obscene) “Monster Dog.” I opted for the ominous sounding and looking “Monster Burger” which cost me six bucks and promptly sealed my colon for what I’m sure will be an eternity.

We also caught a ball, albeit a batting practice homer. With Way Back Wasdin on the hill, I expected so much more.

Man, I’d love to be back there today. To whomever’s filling that seat this afternoon, I salute you.