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| One of the best views of a baseball game - Fenway Park 2001 |
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| Fenway Park looks like an old factory until they crank open the gates - 2002 |
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| So close to the action - 2001 |
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| Keep the little door in the scoreboard closed - 2001 |
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| Green Monster - 2002 |
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| BP - 2002 |
Thanks to Mohammed Atta, and airline service in general, the obvious plan was to take most of these trips by car. Driving my own car allowed for sightseeing between destinations, and it avoided having to rent a different car in every city when visiting several ballparks in a row. It also avoided constant shuttling between airports and hotels. Most important of all, though, it made it much easier to pack. Instead of being limited to a couple of suitcases, I had available both a large empty trunk and a passengerless back seat that, combined, could hold much more than the usual airport totes. Not that I over pack, but my outfits during the big travel year of 2002 ranged from T-shirt and shorts during a hot streak in April at Shea Stadium to my heaviest ski jacket in Pittsburgh a month later. My solution to unpredictable weather was to throw all the clothes I owned into the trunk. Everything but the ski boots.
Because it had been many years since my last long distance drive, a quick trip to see the Red Sox was the logical first destination. Longer excursions later on would be easier after this warm up trip to Boston, which is less than four hours from home here in northern New Jersey. The worst part of this inaugural drive was just getting across the nearby Tappan Zee Bridge in New York State, because of that bridge’s legendary traffic tie-ups on both sides of the Hudson River. The eternal construction on the eastern side of the bridge also caused me to miss the exit for Interstate 95, and so after deciding not to backtrack (yes, a guy thing) I took instead I-84 East through the middle of Connecticut. There were no other backups. At this early juncture in my travels, I realized I had to pay closer attention to my rest stops, and maybe plan on a few more. The first scheduled stop for official business, planned well in advance, was a rest area on the Massachusetts Turnpike. After drinking two large Gatorades with lunch, consumed as I drove, this was way too long a stretch to go without stopping. Remember that high school beer party at the house with one bathroom?
I know Fenway Park has been upgraded since my visit in 2001 (with a subsequent visit in 2002), but at the time, it looked as though the old ballpark was ready to be replaced, and you can let me know how much things have changed. Even with all the excited fans, Fenway appeared old and run down. Wrigley Field is just about as old, but it has been much better maintained over the years. The seats at Wrigley are all new, and the concourse floor has a coat of paint on it and doesn’t slope in the middle from decades of foot traffic, as it did in Boston. Balls and strikes on the scoreboard at Fenway were consistently two pitches behind, probably relayed there by telegraph and Morse Code, but with a little practice you could adapt to that. (Let’s see, 1 and 0 on the scoreboard, but I remember two foul balls, so it’s really 1 and 2.) The views of the field at Fenway are just about the best, but even that is ruined for the odd seat located behind a pole. I had one of those seats this first trip, but luckily it wasn’t a full house and I was able to move. Red Sox management should at least let the fans know when they are buying an obstructed seat. And the seats themselves were built in 1912, for citizens of the early 20th century. Having a 21st century size butt myself, it was a bit of a tight squeeze.
I must say, though, that Fenway Park is the real thing. The newer parks are pretty and fun, but a lot of the quirks are phony. Outfield walls at odd angles are appropriate for Fenway when the local streets are just a few feet away, but there is no reason for them at Jacobs Field or Comerica Park. The slope in center field in Houston looks silly; it will be leveled after the first outfielder tears up a knee on it, or runs into the flag pole. Even the Green Monster has a purpose - to protect the cars and windows behind it on Lansdowne Street. (I was surprised how small the Monster actually looked in person.) And during my visits to Fenway, in the early Aughts, there was a gentleman who would amble over to the Green Monster towards the end of batting practice, attach a ladder, climb slowly and precariously all the way up the wall, and then walk around on top retrieving home run balls from the net. The Red Sox added their Green Monster Seats to the top of the wall for the 2003 season, so that guy was probably out of a job. What I want to see is how the poor fellow worded this position on his resume.
