Last night, fellow OTFBer Will Hall attended a game of baseball played at Fenway Park. Like every young gentleman and lady of this modern era, Mr. Hall decided to snap a few instagrams. Except, instead of lovingly washed out colors harkening back to a simpler time, Mr. Hall found something else. Something dastardly.
Just what is that inexplicable fog rolling through Fenway’s night? According to Hall, there was nothing there, no errant rosin bag being tossed through the air. Could it be just lens flare as filtered through Instagram’s loving processes? Or perhaps it’s smoke slowly evaporating from the nearest sausage station. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s a free-floating partial apparition, drifting through Fenway Park and marking the Red Sox 2012 hopes as dead, reminding us that not all is as it seems.
I’m not a theologian, but I have seen a few episodes of the bro-filled Ghost Adventures. It’s a ghost.