|On Stadium Way, west of Lot 13.|
It was the height of stupidity, particularly in my case. We had checked the Doppler radar map and knew the storm was intensifying. We had a car and prepaid parking. There was a television in our motel room and we could have tuned into the game to learn if it would be delayed.
Yet, when it came time to leave for the ballpark, we decided to walk. The rain was light and we agreed, traveling by foot would be more interesting. Halfway there, however, it started to pour. Chris had a raincoat and he lent Melvin his umbrella.
My jacket is rain resistant, but no match for the weather we encountered. Soaked to the skin, I was shaking uncontrollably by the third inning. The air temperature was higher than when Melvin and I saw the New Hampshire Fisher Cats and Boston Red Sox in 2011, but I was even colder than I was that April.