Wearing a crisp white Red Sox jersey and a dusty blue Boston cap, Bill Adams sat a few rows from third base at Tropicana Field. He has never lived in New England. He has been in Fenway Park only once. And he was the first on his feet when David Ortiz sliced a triple.
"Yeah, Big Papi," he hollered, thrusting fists in the air and turning to high-five his older brother. "Holy moly!"
A font of team trivia, he knew before the statistics flashed on the scoreboard that it was the first triple Ortiz had hit all year, shouting to his brother Mark over the cheering crowd: "How often do you see that?"
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