He would reach base safely on his next 11 consecutive plate appearances.
"Awesome," said Mason.
Jonathan Papelbon wandered over.
"Cinco Ocho, baby," he said, extending his famous right arm, before signing autographs.
Jacoby Ellsbury, who was on his way down the dugout steps to the clubhouse, did a speedy U-turn when he heard about the Taylor boys.
"We'll try hard to give you guys a victory tonight," he said, putting his arm around the blond-haired boys, now seated in the dugout.
"Wait!" he told a photographer. "Let's shoot another picture, I wasn't smiling enough."
Nardozzi had a smile on his face.
"These kids are floating 10 feet off the ground," he said.
After a VIP Fenway tour, the boys were introduced as honorary bat boys and posed with Wally behind home plate, and were shown on the Jumbotron.
Then they settled into their third-row seats. Their donors sat in the bleachers.
The Taylor boys bought rally monkeys and the Sox immediately scored twice. They sang "Sweet Caroline" like Fenway veterans. They good-naturedly teased a White Sox fan sitting behind them and did elaborate handshake routines when the Sox scored, which was often in an 8-0 rout.
And they thought about their dad.
"I miss his smile the most," said Mason. "But he's up there watching us. He's above the John Hancock sign."
Weston agreed.
"Yeah, he is up there . . . looking down at me and Mason and my other brother and my mom."
Jim Taylor watched his grandchildren and put it all into perspective.
"I know this is what my son would have wanted," he said softly. "What's really important in life is your family. You've got to cherish your family because you don't know if today or tomorrow you won't be here. These boys had the dream of their lifetime. They'll always remember all these people. It's a once-in-a-lifetime thing. And we are indebted to you folks for the rest of our lives."
Stan Grossfeld can be reached at grossfeld@globe.com.