On-ward to victory!

Behind the throaty cries of "Charge!" from our heroic Gen. Joshua P. Beckett, our corps of clouters and hurlers are set to storm the grassy enclave of Fenway Park in just one hour's time to do battle with the hearty Tampa Bay youngsters.

But today's tilt is different from any regular clout parade or twirling demonstration: For today is Opening Day, the day that the freshly laundered bunting is hung from the architectural escarpments of beautiful Fenway, and when the Green Monster has been brushed lovingly with a new coat of milk paint. The suds vendors have cleaned their tapping lines, and the frankfurter salesmen have warmed their voices to compete against the cheering throngs of Rooters -- some of them ladies! -- packing the steerage seats in center-field.

It is true that no other day at the ball-park is filled with the unbridled joy -- and requisite pomp and circumstance -- of an Opening Day. Today's ball-game brings to mind an adventure Stuffy and I undertook last year, when we steamed to North Station and transferred on many a trolley to reach the field before the Opening Day ceremonies began. I urge you to relive that day through our humbe diary entries here and here. What a day to be a base-ball "fan"!

Indeed, to-day is a day to thank the Good Maker for all that He has wrought, from the green-hued Firmament in the Fens to the heroic flannel-clad warriors who don the Red Stockings 162 times each season. Huzzah to the clouters and hurlers! Rooters, rejoice! For to-day the bleak winter comes to a close and spring begins a-new.

Play ball!

A double-fisted hero, with talent to spare!

What a gentleman ball-player! The previously derided David John "J.D." Drew, he of the "Ol' Aches and Pains" moniker, has been such a breath of fresh mountain air for the Bostons this first half-season. Indeed, his play has been a tonic for the spirit, much like a nip of Duffy's Pure Malt Whiskey to cure dyspepsia.

But until last night, David John's heroics were largely sequestered in the minds and hearts of Boston's Rooters. Now, his name is known far and wide after his most-valuable play at the All-Star shenanigans at New York's Yankee Stadium -- a park so festooned with bunting during its final victory lap amongst the base-ball cognoscenti that it nearly collapsed under the weight of the gaily colored felts and cottons.

And not only did David John drive the pill into the cheering throngs late in the seventh chapter to make a "tie", but he also surrendered his ego to volunteer for hurling duty as the match wound its way into the wee hours before a victor was named. Alas, there was no need for David John's knuckler as Tampa's Scott "Church Mice" Kazmir twirled the final frame to bring in the victory for the American League ball-players.