At the exact moment you read this, if is between the hours of 7:05 and about midnight Eastern Time, P.L. Frederick is whoopin’ it up at Fenway Park. Whoop! Somebody’s spouse scored two seats on the friggin’ Green Monster. Roar! Section M8, row 3, seats 5 and 6, baby. Under the Volvo “V”. This enables me to drink cheap wine and clam chowder and be slopping both down the side of the monster. “Jacoby! Oh, Jacoby! Over here, doll!” It’s the Red Sox versus the Rays. It was supposed to be a sucky baseball game but the Rays are doing splendorifically. Still, I’ll bet the Sox’ll make so many baskets and goals the first quarter that the fish frisbees will lose. The Rays will cry salt water tears into their Gatorade. Afterwards they’ll feel calm and relaxed ’cuz ridding the body of all that water also empties the bladder. Hey. Hey! What do players do in the middle of a game when they gotta go? Don’t laugh or think a...