On July 4th, there didn't seem to be a more appropriate place than Fenway Park, the oldest baseball stadium in the majors. Every baseball fan with functional hearing has heard stories of this Park's history, its lore, and the teams and players who have occupied its walls. If one had never seen it, one would think it would be the prototypical ballpark.
Except it isn't.
Fenway Park has a greater effect on the game than any other park. Doubles become singles. Singles become triples. Balls that even threaten to leave the yard in a normal ballpark do, and vice versa. The ballpark's unique history and annoying quirks are always at war with each other in judging the park.
Only one thing is clear. For better and for worse, Fenway Park is different.
First, to the game. It was the type of game that casual spectators would find incredibly boring but one that die-hards would find extremely enduring. It was a duel between defenses, with lady luck guiding each bullet. Neither pitcher really dominated, and neither offense really struggled, but the score remained low. Some highlights:
- The weather was spectacular, with plenty of sunshine but enough clouds to provide the occasional shady moments. This is in contrast to the weather in the Bronx, which delayed the game for an hour.
- Curt Schilling delivering Lou Gehrig's famous farewell speech, in honor of the speech's 70th anniversary. The Boston crowd went wild, at least until people realized he was wearing a #4 Jets Jersey.
- The National anthem, where a giant American Flag was draped over the Green Monster. The subsequent jet flyover was a nice touch as well.
- Watching the unimposing 5'9 Dustin Pedroia walk to the plate to the song F*** wit Dre Day by Dr. Dre (I couldn't stop laughing).
- Franklin Gutierrez's fantastic catch in center field.
- Seeing the Mariners escape from a bad situation (runners on the corners and no outs) by getting Rocco Baldelli in a rundown between third and home and getting the next batter to ground into a double play.
- Watching as the whole stadium went nuts in the bottom of the eighth as David Ortiz came to the plate, and celebrating as his line drive into right field was caught by Jose Lopez due to the incredible shift by the defense.
- Seeing three Mariners walk in one inning (!), and watching Pedroia dive unsuccessfully in an attempt to catch Chris Woodward's bases loaded blooper.
- Loudly announcing my thanks to all Red Sox fans for David Aardsma immediately after his save, and trying to remember who we gave up for him (I had to look him up - Fabian Williamson).
- Somehow managing to go to New York and Boston wearing full Mariners gear and loudly cheering for them, and still not getting stuff thrown at me.
Even in the concourses Fenway looks more like a large minor league park than a major league stadium. The concourses are exposed to the open air, and the boundaries of the park are more artificial, like it was designed so that people could just walk right in.
It's been said before, but the Boston fans in New England are different from those that pack every stadium they play in other than Fenway, even though they both identify with "Red Sox Nation". The fans who pack Safeco are mostly jerks. Many of them are drunk, many of the are not well versed in baseball, they chant and yell nonstop, and rarely are they from Boston.
These fans are authentic.
They hail from New England, they are mostly decent people (At least those I talked to), and surprisingly, while they chanted much more frequently and loudly then Yankee Stadium, were on the whole quieter and better behaved than their mutant coast-to-coast counterparts. Sure, they do tend to think that the whole world revolves around them, but other than that they aren't so different from fans of any other team.
However, I still can't stand "Sweet Caroline" as an anthem. I will give Boston fans one thing: the whole town is all about the Red Sox. I haven't seen such uniformity in sports. Still, part of me wants to see if the town would be that into their Red Sox if they had a season like ours last year.
Compared to the clean professional look of Yankee Stadium, Fenway looks dirty and cheap. Still, Fenway's defenders manage to turn this into a selling point, emphasizing the game's tradition. Still, the field itself bends the game so much that it looks like a different game at times. Pesky's pole, the green monster, the lack of foul territory deep, these things can alter the outcome of games, and they give the Red Sox a huge home field advantage. These quirks would not be allowed to remain in a new stadium.
Whether one can overcome this is the main factor in their appraisal of Fenway. I liked it: I've grown up with too much baseball history not to be wowed by Fenway. But I can understand those who wouldn't, which is why, while I personally loved it and would watch games there again, I can't call it baseball's best stadium or use some other piece of hyperbolic language to describe it. Fenway is just different, in both the good and bad senses of the word













