The bar in the background used to be called The Purple Shamrock.
Every Saturday, the worst people in Boston (myself included) would show up here. We’d drink 17 Long Island ice teas, throw up in a corner, get in a fight over nothing, and then try to take home some chick named Tammy-Lynn from Medford.
Tammy-Lynn had a lower back tattoo of barbwire with a rose in the middle, smeared MAC eyeliner, and a Parliament hanging out of her mouth. She dropped out in 10th grade, would probably try to stab you if she had too many Jagerbombs (her favorite), but in the glow of the streetlights in Faneuil Hall, she was a goddess.
Before for getting in a cab back to her place, her juice head ex boyfriend shows up. Richie’s wearing a wife beater, gold chain, a Von Dutch hat and asking “you wanna die, mutherfucker?!”
Deciding not to risk you life for an unstable 6, you head back into the bar. One more Long Island can’t hurt.
Welcome to Boston. Beautiful culture.
Allowing #Scotland, a country famous for its war of independence from Britain, to play not one but two games in greater Boston, a region famous for starting a war of independence from Britain...was a fantastic idea by all involved