There’s a sign outside the stadium that reads, “Welcome to Fenway Park, America’s Most Beloved Ballpark.” After my first visit, it’s not hard to see why.
Opened in 1912, it’s the oldest Major League Baseball stadium currently in use. If you haven’t been there, you should go. For one thing, it involves a trip to Boston, one of the oldest and most storied cities in our country's history. If you aren’t at least a little awed to be walking along the same streets as Paul Revere, Ben Franklin and Cliff Clavin, you must not have a pulse.
The stadium is situated right in the city, next to Boston University and blends in well with its surroundings. You can walk right up to it before you realize you’re entering a professional sports arena. The venue itself is small and harkens back to a different time. You almost feel like you’re back in the classic era of Ted Williams, Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig. You can imagine yourself watching a game in the 30s, surrounded by families coming out to enjoy America’s favorite pastime, singing ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame’. It is so much less about computerized ad graphics, steroids, and free-agents; and more about one team simply trying to claim the day. The scoreboard on the Green Monster is still changed by hand, by an actual person.
Kevin and I flew into Boston for the weekend, and met up with some friends, Bunny and Liz. We had tickets to see the Yankees play the Red Sox for a Saturday afternoon game. It had been raining all morning, but seemed to clear up just in time for the game. It was a good thing too because our tickets were “Standing Room Only” on the roof, down the right field line.
At some point during the sixth inning I ducked down to the ladies room and while washing my hands, heard about the rain delay of the Red Sox game on TV. Apparently in the three minutes I had been gone, the bottom had dropped out of the sky and it began to pour. The wind blew so hard that our neighbors’ umbrella immediately turned Mary Poppins style inside out upon opening. Liz’s umbrella snapped in two.
Undaunted, my Knight in Shining Armor (a.k.a. drunk Kevin) ran with the useless bottom half of Liz’s umbrella down to the restrooms to retrieve me. We huddled around the stadium bar for cover as much as possible and waited. At some point we gave up on the umbrella and the game and journeyed back to the bar, after buying some new (read “dry”) Red Sox gear.
From that point on we enjoyed an evening out in Boston. We awoke to a beautiful sunny day, and a great view of the Charles River from our hotel room (thanks D!!), and flew home.
6 down; 24 to go
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