I'm curious about what kind of car Patrick drives. If his baseball affiliations are any indication, presumably it's some sort of top-heavy SUV—you know, a lot of power at the outset, but prone to rollovers and spontaneous combustion. Maybe not, though; he does have three kids. Perhaps he's the Mr. Mom type, with a pimped-out minivan full of flat screens, stowaway seating, and Dodge knows what else. As for myself, I roll in a 2003 Chevy Cavalier. Status-wise, it's a significant step down from the 1974 Cadillac Eldorado convertible I drove up until January of last year. But at seven miles to the gallon, "Big Maude" (as I affectionately called her) wasn't exactly a lean machine.
Heck, I'd probably be paying more for gas than for rent each month if I still had that beautiful beast. And those plumes of exhaust that belched from the tailpipe every time I pressed down on the gas pedal will probably keep me carpooling till I retire to make up for the damage I've done to the environment already.
But hey, if I can convince the isolation-fancying Patrick to extend his ridesharing endeavors beyond our week together, perhaps I can cut my penance in half and start driving by myself again when I'm, say, 50 or so. And if he gets one other person to start carpooling, and that person gets one other person to start, and then that person gets someone else into it…well, I'm no mathematician, but that's at least 50 or 60 people right there reducing who knows who many jillions of tons of pollution!
So maybe our sporting ideologies are somewhat at odds, and granted, our personal styles aren't exactly cut from the same cloth, but that doesn't mean we can't unite in support of this single, worthy cause. Yankees fan or not, when we're done with this little experiment, I'm hoping Wally's not the only green monster around. I hope he doesn't like country music…