![]() I had to stop my poor date, because I was laughing nervously and in a state of disbelief. Something in the dark recesses of my brain was screaming to snap to attention and give the proper greeting of the day. It wasn’t logical, just an involuntary reaction. It seems ridiculous now, but my blood ran cold and my heart sped up for a second. My “kill hat” from boot camp was about ten feet from me, wearing a “Hook ‘em ‘Horns” t-shirt, yukking it up with some of his friends and watching college football. I looked over at the table of Marines to my left. We decided it was our duty as Red Sox fans to watch game two together, and in the same place, or we’d obviously risk jinxing them and ushering in another 86 year curse. Thankfully, Daisuke Matsuzuka pitched a gem that night. We Boston sports fans are a superstitious bunch, so I understood when she said that she’d only give me her number if the Sox won. We struck up a conversation and found out we had grown up only about an hour apart back in New England. As luck would have it, it was next to a pretty girl wearing a Mike Lowell Red Sox jersey. I wasn’t alone in that thinking there was only one open seat at the bar. ![]() Buffalo Wild Wings was the most logical choice to go catch game one of the next series. The Red Sox had just beaten the Angels to advance to the American League Championship Series (ALCS). ![]() ![]() I had just moved out of the barracks and didn’t have cable. I was stationed at Marine Corps Air Station (MCAS) Yuma. If there was any doubt that I was remembering them right, that was put to rest about two years after I graduated from boot camp…īut before I get to that, I have to paint you a picture of how I met my wife. Almost fifteen years later, they’re still up there in my brain. Even if I couldn’t understand them half the time, my drill instructors’ voices are an indelible memory. Suffice it to say fear and anxiety were definitely part of the Parris Island experience for me. ![]()
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