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 A vacation in New England requires a
visit to the legendary Fenway Park in Boston, Mass. If a baseball
park were to be rated on charm alone, Fenway Park would rank
as one of the best baseball stadiums in Major League Baseball.
Through the years, Boston Red
Sox fans have known Fenway Park, in Boston, Mass., as an ancient
charmer in a modern, state-of-the-art world. The pastoral, beautiful
symmetry of the game has always looked good at Fenway, and always
will -- enhanced by the charismatic 37-foot high Green Monster
scoreboard, the esteemed Citgo sign behind the stadium, seats
intimately close to the well-manicured field, thick Boston accents,
hot dogs, too much beer, and stentorian locals having a complete
knowledge of who played here (from anomolies like Mike Garmen
and Kevin Romano to fan favorites like Johnny Pesky and Luis
Tiant). They know who ruined our "summahs" -- Bucky
Dent and Bill Buckner (even though it was technically fall),
and they know who the "phonies" were ( most recently,
Pedro Martinez, who left a World Series winner so he could earn
more money for the mediocre New York Mets). Now we have a revalitzed
team and management (Theo Epstein, maker of some great deals
and a few bad ones) that is talented, competitive and entertaining
("Dice-K" fever, Jonathan Papelbon, Curt Schilling,
Josh Beckett, etc.). With the New York Yankees going through
a mide-life crisis and injuries in 2007, you can be sure that
the Boston Red Sox will be in the thick of things and hopefully
won't break our hearts later in the year.
Fenway Park has a beloved downside
with cramped, slightly uncomfortable seats (and not enough of
them at around 34,000), restroom facilities that once prompted
me to run across the street in between innings to the now defunct
Aku Aku Chinese restaurant to use spotless restrooms, a mediocre
concession stand, and, overall, a worn out, old comfortable shoe
feel that sometimes looks more inviting from the comfort of the
living room. We always return, however, as the living room is
built for, as mentioned, comfort and Fenway Park for discomfort
-- the latter of which New Englanders prefer (along with bad
weather, high taxes, astronomical real estate costs, elevated
diesel emissions, even more elevated college tuition, and one
way city streets never quite getting you to your intended destination).
In all fairness, renovations and expansion have been made in
the past few years to make things more comfortable, but we're
still not talking about one of those modern ballparks with all
the bells and whistles -- it is still an old ball park, but a
charming one-of-a-kind one, at that.
No matter who has been in the
Boston Red Sox lineup, it has ultimately been the fans historically
serving as the city's baseball catalyst since 1912. Fenway Park
fans have kept the Boston Red Sox in business by not only paying
for their tickets en route to traditionally sold out games, but
by also creating the spirit behind the team that had, until recently,
not won a World Series since 1918 (and in the process, beating
the arch rival New
York Yankees in dramatic
fashion in the American League Championship finals). We've heard
the fervor in the stands, in the streets, on the radio and sometimes
from the living room through the open windows and into the neighborhood.
Fenway Park cannot be measured
by modern amenities -- not by a tape-measured longshot. All is
has going for it are the people. The fans in other cities with
modern ballparks just have that, the modern ballpark -- no soul,
no screaming, no yelling, no cheering, no signs of life. It is
like going to a Michael Bolton concert where, as we all know,
there are simply no memories in the making.
Everyone has a memory or two
of Fenway Park. To be a kid and watch a game at Fenway Park was
one of the true highlights of my childhood. My favorite memories
include the time Baltimore Oriole first baseman Boog Powell almost
took my life with a foul ball rocket over my seven-year-old head.
Tony Oliva, the Minnsesota Twins star outfielder, once let go
of his bat accidently while swinging and almost had the same
effect on me as Boog Powell. Then there was the time when the
crowd yelled in unison "We want a hit," while my lone,
meek little eight-year-old voice followed with "We want
a hot dog." Families laughed, drunks laughed, drunk families
laughed.
We may lose Fenway Park someday
to a Camden Yards-type model, possibly in South Boston. So far,
politics has kept that from happening -- this is one good example
of red tape preserving our memories. Many New Englanders wouldn't
mind a new stadium, however. as they are smart enough to know
history begins the day something new happens. For the rest of
us, however, Fenway Park will do just fine. Sometimes feelings
overrule logic, and although a new stadium would be nice, the
"Fenway magic" has a spell on us that won't ever go
away. After all, that is the New England way of thinking.
Related article: McCoy Stadium,
home of the Pawtucket Red Sox, swings for the fences when it
comes to old-fashioned fun, family-friendly baseball
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