Ebbett’s Field and Fenway Park.. Dad’s been a Dodgers fan for so long he refers to them as “my Dodgers.” From his days as a youngster at Ebbett’s Field in Brooklyn to eventually forgiving the owners for the exodus to LA, Dodger Blue has been his favorite color. I’m not sure how, but I ended up a Red Sox fan. Over the years, until 2004 anyway, he’s had more to celebrate. This year on Father’s Day weekend, Saturday, we made a road trip together for inter-league play to watch the Dodgers play Boston at Fenway. I picked him up around 9:30 for the trip down so we could avoid travel worries, get there in time for BP, and settle in for the 4:10 Game of the Week. Perfect travel, easy in and out on the Metro. Excellent seats in the leftfield grandstand. Delightful weather. Boston won in the bottom of the ninth, with two out and two strikes on Pedroia. We all went nuts; well, not the Dodgers fans, except for Dad who has quietly come to appreciate the Sox. After the return trip, I dropped him off a little before midnight. It was a long day, but the most time we’d spent together since my freshman year in college when we made an earlier road trip to Fenway. This time our conversations were more open, more meaningful, more profound. We talked about the baseball teams for sure, and we replayed the best moments of the game on the way home. But we also talked about family, values, and milestones of life. I know that clichés abound about baseball and fathers and sons, but this is one road trip I’ll never forget. Thanks for coming, Dad.