Fenway Park, Boston. It is a warm Sunday evening, close to 21:00 local time, and events on the field are not going favorably.

The Red Sox trail by three runs heading into the seventh inning, a situation all too common this year for supporters at this famous old ballpark.

"Fans arrived with bags over their heads a few weeks back, they felt so let down," explains one attendee from the row behind.

Yet amid the east coast voices calling out for cold beer and hot dogs from roaming vendors, plus the buzz of conversation in the classic main stand, a familiar tune suddenly blasts from the overhead speaker.

"Mister, your eyes are full of hesitation…"

What follows will stay with everyone present, blending curious surprise and pure delight.

The historic venue near Jersey Street opened the week the Titanic went down, yet the vision of over 10,000 Scots belting out Yes Sir, I Can Boogie with lively moves on the big screen is surely a first here.

The past few days in Boston have been unlike any other. A wave of Scotland supporters has flooded the city for this World Cup, a journey many never expected to make. Families here include generations who have never witnessed such scenes.

The Tartan Army received a warm welcome across the city, treated like returning kin at a gathering.

They arrived in high spirits after their side's World Cup victory over Haiti, heading to Fenway on a sunny summer evening for a Scottish Celebration as the Red Sox faced the Rangers.

Not the Glasgow club, but the Texas team.

The event was organized by Travis Pollio, the Sox director of ticket strategy and promotions. At the intersection of Jersey Street and Van Ness Street, he estimates around 4,000 Scots will attend, his words nearly drowned out by a pipe band starting up nearby.

A group of kilted fans soon adds to the noise with a quick chorus of Red Sox Tartan Army from a short distance away.

The prediction proves low. Among the 32,000 packed around the legendary field, it feels almost like being at Hampden. Tripling that 4,000 figure would not overstate the turnout.

Scotland fans receive special blue tartan Red Sox jerseys, and these appear more common inside than the usual red and white versions.

Tessie and Wally, the team's Green Monster mascots, don Highland attire near first base as events start and the crowd settles.

The night begins with a respectful performance of the Star Spangled Banner, followed by an a cappella rendition of Flower of Scotland from the Tartan Army.

As the Sox struggle early, the Scots share their energy and appeal. In block eight, a visitor from across the Atlantic learns about innings, pitch counts and game details.

In exchange, the baseball fan hears about John McGinn's Meatball nickname and the songs in his honor. He listens with courtesy.

When the home side hits a rare home run, the Scots, many filling the bleachers at the far end, cheer with the passion usually saved for a Scott McTominay overhead kick.

It is an evening of welcome and connection, two groups united by sport. Camaraderie fills the air, nearly matching the flow of beer.

A quick view of the organist with a No Scotland, No Party sign at his window appears on screen before he plays Loch Lomond. Later, Scotland fans erupt when a couple gets engaged on the big screen. All feels positive.

Across from the stands stands the Green Monster, the tall 37-foot left-field wall with seats on top.

A powerful hit sends the ball soaring through the Boston sky, only to be caught by a young fan in a Scotland kit. A memory to keep and a souvenir for the shelf.

Someone should hand that boy goalkeeper gloves.

Despite a late push, the Red Sox fall 6-4. Yet the result was not the focus for many in attendance.

"Great evening, but what was the score? We figured it was 1-0," reads a text from one Scotland supporter.

The locals heading home will feel the sting of defeat, yet it comes eased by the special sight of singing and dancing Scots who made the park their own and embraced the occasion.

Sport creates remarkable moments. It is not solely about the outcome, though it was on Saturday, but also about uniting people.

On one summer evening in Massachusetts, that happened in memorable fashion.