Back in February, when I was selected for the chance to purchase Monster seat tickets through, I targeted games scheduled for months when, y’know, it’s not likely to snow. In other words: July, August & September.

When I actually went through the online purchase process, however, I found to my dismay that the games I’d most desired were sold out, pushing me back to June, then May, then, lastly, April. Specifically, yesterday’s game against the D-Rays.

Surprisingly, there was no blizzard. No earthquake. No ice bergs crashing through the Barnes & Noble in Kenmore Square. Just a sun-kissed sky, cool breezes, and another Red Sox victory.

The Monster seats are a staggeringly beautiful place to watch the game. A sumptuous view of the action, heavy on the bonuses: Lots of leg and arm room, a rather comfortable seat, mucho space for your beer or camera or copy of The Populist Times or whatever the hell you bring to the ballpark. The only downside is the food selection, which is limited to a “Monster”-sized hot dog or burger or sausage and is apparently chemically treated to seal one’s colon upon ingestion [It’s 2:30am and I still can’t sleep. Thanks, Monster Dog!]. But the walk to the food stand is, christ, about fifteen steps. So I can’t complain. And I won’t. It’s just too glorious.

Also, is there anything in this world that’s better than hot chicks in Red Sox shirts and caps? No. There is not. And they were out in full force at yesterday’s game. And on more than one occasion I did raise my beer and say, “Thank you, God, for eyes.”

Anyway, the game was stellar as well, highlighted by a Renteria home run, a key hit from Payton, and another great Tim “2-0” Wakefield outing. Not to take anything away from the D-Rays, but these are the guys we’re supposed to be beating. When Ortiz looks into that visiting dugout, he should see nothing but row upon row of individually wrapped snack cakes. These are the precious “W”s we must pluck and hoard as insurance against those bareknuckle brawls with the Yankees, the Twins, the Angels, and that interleague swing.

Oh, and the Yankees are 4-8. No that it means anything this early on. But still.

Today, we get the Marathon Day midday classic, at 11:05am. Schilling against li’l Davy Bush.