During the summer of 2004, I was eight years old. Summer vacation meant only one thing: no more homework to distract from Yankees baseball. I liked to keep score not only when I was at the game, but sometimes from my own living room, too.
That summer I kept score in a battered scorebook intended for Little League coaches. I documented the game as the Yankees fell to the Mets on June 26th before sweeping them in a doubleheader on the 27th. And on July 1, as Brad Halsey was slated to start for the first-place Bronx Bombers against Pedro Martinez and the evil Boston Red Sox, I sat down with my family on the couch, scorebook in hand, ready for the game.