Fenway Commuting

Genuflection Site

As I noted in yesterday’s post, the big event of the day was a trip into Boston to see the underachieving Red Sox courtesy of my extraordinary brother in law. In one of the only smart decisions the MBTA has made lately, a new commuter train station opened up directly across the street from the old ball yard so I decided to give that a try. We parked our car at the nearby Worcester bus hub using my employee pass so I can honestly say I paid zero dollars in parking fees for a game at Fenway. The train ride, an entirely different story.

Wife on the Train

My wife and I joined a festive crowd of Red Sox fans on the platform and the train showed up on time, was clean and had plenty of seating. We made a tactical error by sitting across from a young, well-tattooed mother and her two year old daughter. The daughter took full advantage of her mother’s 21^st century approach to parenting which involved repeatedly saying the child’s name and trying to reason with her when she misbehaved. The child blithely ignored her mother and charged up and down the train for about 45 minutes until the conductor came over to interrupt the mother’s texting session to inform her she was responsible for her child and could in fact establish control, seeing as how she was the adult in the situation (despite copious evidence to the contrary). They departed the train at a stop well before Fenway and I told my wife that the kid, despite being really bright, didn’t stand a chance in life unless the mother grew up as well.

Outside the Train Station Across Street From Fenway

Other than this healthy reminder of the perils of parenthood the ride was a real treat, especially when we disembarked at the new station and found ourselves literally across the street from Fenway. Anyone who’s ever driven into Boston for a game and tried to find parking knows how special this was. Since the ride in only took a little over an hour we had time to grab lunch before the game and decided to take a short walk down one of the various memory lanes available. We were shortly seated at the Kenmore Square Uno’s at the very table we sat at a couple times with my daughter when she attended nearby Boston University (could she have graduated over ten years ago already!!!). We could actually see her freshman and sophomore year dorm from our window seat. We texted her a picture but she was busy being a godmother for the first time for one of the burgeoning second generation of Curbside progeny.

Kenmore Square View from UNO's

Cali-Daughter in NYC Yesterday With Some Expert Assistance in Catholicism

After lunch we wandered through the maelstrom that is Yawkey Way on game day and took the proper amount of time to genuflect to the three latest championship banners. With that done and a nod to Jim Rice in the NESN pre-game show booth we entered Fenway to find our seats. There’s a special moment when you enter Fenway through one of their aged arched passageways and see the field for the first time. I think I’ve written before about the first time I did this with the ubiquitous Cantankerous Friend back in the summer of 1968. The magic is still there with the impossibly green grass and enchanted little baseball diamond. There’s something undeniably special about it.

Yawkey Way

NESN Booth

We weren’t fully prepared for how good our gifted seats were but I was silently thanking my brother in law throughout the game. It was like sitting in front of a 10,000 inch high definition screen, only better. The crowd was into the game from the outset but the Red Sox didn’t bother to show up for the first seven innings. Everything this year’s team is becoming infamous for was apparent from lack of hitting to poor defense to spotty pitching. Then the eighth inning happened. We were preparing to leave as the return train time was approaching and Buccholz had done his usual imitation of the self-made rain delay. He was long gone by the 8^th and the last 13 Red Sox had been retired by a no name pitcher (sounds familiar) when the Sox finally woke up with a long home run and then an improbable series of hits and opponent miscues that had Fenway rocking like it was 2013. By the end of the inning the Sox had erased a 4-0 deficit and were semi-comfortably ahead 7-4. I was trying to explain to my wife the difference in traversing Yawkey Way with the post-game crowd emptying out versus leaving before the 9^th. She eventually saw the light and we heard about the end of the game from both my favorite son and Wingman via text. We could still here the screams of delight at the improbable win from nearby Fenway as we mounted the return train (again on time). A little over an hour later we were back in the car and heading home without having to fight any post-game traffic. If nothing else we’ve established new paradigm for travel to and from Fenway Park. More importantly my signature Red Sox shirt is now four and oh when worn to a live game.

That First Glimpse Inside

View from Our Seats

The day was special, even if the Sox had lost, because seeing a game at Fenway Park is an event in and of itself, regardless of the outcome. Yesterday was elevated even higher with the late game heroics. I did pay my usual price with the Fenway seats configured for 19^th century sized humans. By the 5^th inning my bad knee was barking up a serious storm. Last night as I sat at home it locked up all of a sudden and was a lot more painful than I was prepared to deal with. It eventually subsided and I think I had some sort of weird internal muscle cramp from sitting so uncomfortably for those Fenway hours. It was worth it though, thanks to that 8^th inning.