The disappointment you'll feel returning home after the Red Sox' defeat: On the house.

Ah, that brings me back to the time my sister took me to my first game at Fenway. We had box seats on the aisle of the seventh row behind the Red Sox dugout. Bill Monbouquette started for the Red Sox, Mickey Lolich for the Tigers. It was a pitchers' duel, and "Monbo" had a no-hitter through seven. Then after the Sox went down in the bottom of the seventh, my sister said we have to go, to beat the traffic. I said he was pitching a no-hitter. She said he won't get a no-hitter, and she was leaving with or without me. I listened to the rest of the game on the car radio, and when Monbo got the last out in the top of the ninth, without giving up a hit, my sister said she was sorry. I know I'll forgive her someday, but it's only been a little over four decades - it's too fresh in my mind. Lolich went eight, gave up no runs, and his relief set down the Sox in the bottom of the ninth. Monbo pitched three doubles in the top of the tenth, good for two runs and the Sox lost 2-0, just one of a hundred losses that year, good for tenth place. Attendance was about 3,200, typical for a club that drew only 650,000 for the year. Oh, and those box seat tickets? Four bucks each.

So by being in the waiting room you're forgoing the opportunity to receive looks of irritation from your family members?