Okay, I've been saving this post. Partly because I had some of the photos on my phone and I had to send them to myself in an email to retrieve them AND because I couldn't find the words to do it right.
Here's the story:
I haven't been watching baseball all that long, really. We grew up in a house that didn't have a t.v., so the only sports I'd see were the Olympics at Grandma Dutton's and rodeo. I don't remember ever seeing a baseball game, even on t.v., until I was in college. The first baseball game I went to was the Billings Mustangs when I was 23-ish...not a terribly exciting game, except for the concessions. I dig the dogs.
Sue got me interested in the Red Sox. I loved that they were an old, old....OLD team; they had history and character(s). I loved that they weren't always in the race for the pennant, that single wins were just as thrilling as play off games because they were an unexpected gift. (Yes. They lose a lot. But sometimes...) I loved that their fans were loyal through everything. I loved that their ball park hadn't been torn down to make way for a new Schick-Velveeta-Coca-Cola stadium.
Fenway Park, home of the Red Sox, is 100 years old this year! Opened in April of 2012, the year the Titanic sank, William H. Taft was president, and Elvis Presley's mother was born, it is one of the two oldest baseball parks remaining in the U.S. (Wrigley Field turns 100 in 2014.) It's like an old cathedral of the sport that was born in America. I knew this because Sue sent me homework, magazines and newspapers to read so I wouldn't be unaware of the greatness of the place.
But nothing could prepare me for Fenway.
(I KNOW...that sounds like a 16 year old girl meeting Justin Bieber! But it's TRUE.)
Sue bought our tickets in January, hoping they'd be good, spending a sizable chunk of her son's college fund I think. (He's a smart boy...he'll get scholarships, I'm sure.) We were so excited to be able to go to one of their last home games of the season, hoped it would be decent weather (because it rains a lot in Boston in September) and pulled together our Red Sox ensembles for the evening.
It was stunning, to see the park at night from the outside. The fans were grouping in, lights on the pennants, the smell of popcorn and hot dogs and other good things to eat. Like, Korean food. It felt like a carnival...you know how they look at night, with the lights and people of all ages, happy to be there. My tummy was tickling like it does before I get on a carnival ride, too! I felt like I was 10 years old again. What a magical place, to be able to turn old women into children for a few hours!
We wanted to find our seats, so we went in under the stadium, a dark cave-y sort of area...the ceiling was high enough it didn't feel crunched or anything, even though there were a lot of people and they all appeared to know where they were going. Except me.
We worked our way through the other fans and got to the ramp that would take us up to our section, or close to it, anyway. And this is what did me in. This is where I really and truly felt like a little girl.
We walked up the ramp toward the lights of the ball park and the field and when we got to the top, it was THERE. It was huge and beautiful and there were players on the field and there was the Green Monster, in person, and there was an energy in that place that blew me away.
And I cried.
It was just so...BIG for me.
It wasn't just the bigness of the actual stadium, it was the bigness of being where Babe Ruth and Ted Williams had played. It was the bigness of seeing all the people and all the funny baseball-y things I hoped would be there, but was worried would not, just because I wanted them so badly. The families, the dugouts, the score board that's hand operated, the hard little seats, the smell of sports...all those things.
I was 10 years old for at least 3 more hours.
It was one of the best experiences I've ever had.
Okay, so my pictures aren't all that great. Our SEATS were great, but my pictures weren't. I didn't set the darn camera for low light because the lights of the stadium seemed so bright! So you get what you get. Besides, I'm pretty sure part of the problem was that I was so excited I might have been shaking a little.
Susie K. and me...
It just looks like a proper baseball park SHOULD, doesn't it?
The 'dog and a beer...(Yeah, I still felt like a 10 year old. A 10 year old that was getting away with something!)
The Green Monster!
The Red Sox!
This picture is fascinating to me...I see different things every time I look at it! (Like the kid with the mouthful of food so that his cheek is bulging...)
Dustin Pedroia, one of my favorite players, at bat. I'm still miffed about the Youkillis trade. Could they not have waited until after I came to Boston?!
This Oriole broke his bat; it was pretty cool to watch!
Again, here's my favorite picture, the big foam finger proclaiming our Red Sox love! (Okay, THIS year, they were a little hard to love. But they're the SOX!)
Crummy picture of the playoff years...sorry!
The vendors were a show, all by themselves. They had THE most Boston accents I heard while I was in Massachusetts! The guys with peanuts would just fling them to a customer, three rows away, then get up there in a little while to collect their money. One guy who was sitting in front of me flagged down an ice cream vendor to see if he sold the soft kind of ice cream. The vendor said, "Shooah! Just hold it yah hands until it gets sew-oft!" (You have to read that aloud to figure it out, but I promise you, that's what he sounded like.)
We also had the stereotypical big mouth guy trying to impress everyone around him sitting behind us. There were daddies with their little guys, too. This is the little boy who sat in front of us, watching the whole game with his baseball glove on. I wanted to hug him, he was so dang cute.
If you ever get the opportunity to visit Fenway Park, don't even question whether the tickets are worth it. You can't imagine how American you'll feel there.
And young.
.jpg)
