The times, they are a changin'
If you ever played tee-ball / baseball / softball in little league growing up, you will appreciate this - or be angry.
Rewind yourself back to those times. The day your brought home your jersey for the first time was special. No doubt about it. You would go pick it up at the fields, make your mom/dad speed home, leap from the car as it is still moving in the driveway, and then run inside and slip into your new uniform for the first time. The smell of fresh polyester pants, the sticky feel of the cheap iron-on letters, the brilliant colors from your shirt - beautiful. Then, oh man, you brought out the hat. Cheap material on the front followed up with the trucker style mesh on the back with the snap fastener with the ever so cool 'rope' that went across the top portioin of the bill that tied the whole style together - heaven. You would put it on, realize it was either too big or small, then adjust, and plop that bad-boy back down on your head.
You were set. Life was good. Life was simple.
Oh, how the times are changin.
Upon my arrival to the great land of Fenway Park last Friday, I had one thought in mind. Get my boy a hat FROM Fenway Park. Not some piece bought off the street or in a chain store, but a legitimate Red Sox hat from Fenway.
After my first lap around the park, snapping photos, and enjoying the moment with my new friends I met at Cheers (yes, that Cheers - ask me the story later. It's a good one), we headed to the big pro-shop at Fenway. Found the hat rack...and holy crap. Lot's of hats.
After I bugged the lady behind the counter as to
what hat would fit a 20-month old kid, we decided on the FITTED hat. Fitted hat for a 20-month old, you gotta be freaking kidding me.
When I was a kid, I don't think those two words were possible to be said together. We didn't get fitted hats till we were in junior high, even that was a big deal.
Kids these days, they just don't know how good they have it.