There's Always Next Year, Part 2

Friday, April 9, 2004

           

It was Good Friday, but I wouldn’t be going to church. The only place of worship I would be attending would be Fenway Park. It was opening day in Boston, and I was fortunate enough to be attending the game with my father. The game was a 3:05 start, and the Red Sox would be playing their divisional opponent the Toronto Blue Jays. The Sox had already opened the season on the road, splitting a four-game series with the Baltimore Orioles.

           

It was an average April day in Boston, which meant it was still cool enough that I would need a jacket, especially if I was going to be sitting outside all day watching baseball. Plus when the sun went down, the temperature would drop and I would more than likely freeze. My dad and I made our way towards the ball park from our office. On a day where I was able to leave early to go to the game, it was good to be in with the boss.

As regular season ticket holders, we had attended many games together over the years, and we always walked the same route to Fenway through South Campus. It was a relatively quiet area compared to the main campus on Commonwealth Avenue, and during the academic year there was a moderate activity of foot traffic of students going to and from class.

           

We usually talked about different things on our walk to Fenway, like what was going on with family and friends. In the end the conversation would usually turn to sports, the Sox and baseball. We would discuss the previous night’s game, certain players, and what to expect in the game we were about to see. My dad always talked about the Sox with enthusiasm, whether it was in a positive or negative manner. His vast knowledge of the game of baseball always influenced me, and for that reason we saw eye to eye on many things, especially when it came to our favorite team.

           

We would eventually have to cross Beacon Street and dodge our way through four lanes of traffic. In ten short days, runners taking part in the Boston Marathon would be crossing this path while heading into Kenmore Square. This would lead us through one of the main parking lots next to the ball park as we approached Brookline Avenue.

As Fenway came into view, I began to feel the excitement in the air. It was more than just a baseball game to me, but again the anticipation of a new baseball season. For me it was a backdrop to the upcoming summer months, which besides Red Sox games included golf, days at the beach and barbecues with friends and family. This feeling was not only felt around the ball park, but it reverberated throughout the entire city of Boston. Opening day was usually one of the top stories of the local news, and weather broadcasts reported for days leading up to it. I always knew I was fortunate to be in attendance.

We joined the crowded streets as droves of people dressed in combinations of red and navy blue descended upon Fenway. Lines to enter the local bars, such as the Cask N’ Flagon and Boston Beer Works, extended onto the sidewalks. We crossed Brookline Avenue towards Yawkey Way, the small side street that served as one of the gateways to Fenway Park. Outside the gates lines of people eagerly waited to have their ticket scanned.

Upon entering Yawkey Way, it’s as almost as if we were transcended to another world. Various vendors lined the sidewalks, and the smell of cooking sausages and grills immediately filled the air. Fans walked up and down the street taking in the atmosphere while sipping on draught beers. The entrance to The Yawkey Way souvenir store was to our right across from the park, where consumers were purchasing new memorabilia for the upcoming season.

We made our way into the park and through the concourse underneath the grandstands along the third base side of the field. The concourse at Fenway was always very drab looking, made of mostly concrete. There was very little color, with green poles and beams lining the walkways. Various food and beer vendors stretched all up and down the concourse. Before the game the walkways were always packed with people, many balancing Styrofoam containers of food and drinks. We wiggled our way through the crowd towards our seats.

One of my favorite parts of opening day was walking up the ramp to see the field for the first time. It was usually crammed with people trying to find their seats, and today was no different. We trudged down the narrow stairs towards our seats as other fans stopped to ask the ushers where they were sitting. I reveled in the sight of the field, beginning with the freshest green grass one could lay eyes upon. The overbearing presence of the left field wall, better known as the Green Monster, loomed to my left. Players from both teams were finishing their pre-game workouts on the field, with some of them playing catch right in front of us along the third base line. It was a sight I had waited six months to see.

I said hello to many of the familiar faces of the fans that sat around us, many also being season ticket holders. Sitting right behind the press box, we had the pleasure of many photographers passing right by us, usually struggling to unlatch the gate that opened onto the field. A sign that read “Be Alert: Foul Balls and Bats Hurt” was also posted on this gate. I always chuckled at its obvious message.

Unfortunately the game didn’t live up to all the pre-game excitement for the Red Sox. They were up 5-4 going into the eighth inning, but the bull pen gave up six runs in the last two innings, and the Sox lost 10-5. On the walk back through South Campus, my dad and I talked about the game we just watched. There was not much to say after a tough loss, but I was in good spirits for the most part. The excitement of a fresh baseball season was here, and anything can happen over the course of a long season.

     

Friday, April 16, 2004

My Uncle Ray was able to score me a ticket for the game so I was heading up to Fenway right after work. Tonight’s game was special for a couple of reasons. It would be the first meeting of the season between the Red Sox and the New York Yankees. It was the first time the teams had met since Boone’s home run last October shoved a dagger into the heart of every Red Sox fan. Tim Wakefield, Boston’s reliable knuckleballer who gave up the home run to Boone, would be the starting pitcher for the Sox. As a fan I couldn’t have asked for a more enticing matchup. Also earlier in the day, the Red Sox unveiled and dedicated the new statue of Ted Williams outside of Fenway Park.

           

For me, the dedication of the statue was special because Ray had a small part in its development. It began in the fall of 2002, when one of Ray’s neighbors in Venice, Franc Talarico, knocked on his door and asked my uncle to teach him about Ted Williams.

           

What most people should understand about my Uncle Ray is that he’s not only the most die-hard Red Sox fan, but he’s also a baseball enthusiast and historian. Similar to how my father brought my brother and me when we were kids, my grandfather took my father and uncle to Fenway when they were growing up. Ray was with my father in attendance at the 1975 World Series. He used to create t-shirts and sell them outside Fenway Park during the 1980s. He was a co-author of a book chronicling Babe Ruth’s years with the Boston Red Sox that was published in 1997, The Babe in Red Stockings. You could say he was a little fanatical about his team.

           

There was a specific reason that Franc went to Ray seeking his help. Franc knew my uncle was from Boston and a big sports fan. What Ray did not know about Franc was that he was a sculptor charged with the task of creating a statue of the Red Sox legend for the Ted Williams Museum in Lecanto, Florida. Franc wanted to learn about his subject, and Ray was happy to oblige.

           

Over the next couple of weeks Ray would go visit Franc in his studio and brought some books on Ted Williams. Ray showed Franc how Ted was one of the greatest hitters of all time, how he loved to fish, and that he was a fighter pilot in World War II and Korea, losing five seasons in his prime of his baseball career to the wars. Ted also had a very truculent relationship with the Boston media, leading to frustration with some fans and a couple of incidents that made Ted stop tipping his cap. Then Ray told Franc about Ted’s work with the Jimi Fund.

           

The Boston Red Sox adopted the Jimi Fund as their official charity in 1953, a partnership that has developed to raise money for kids battling cancer. In the organization’s early years, Ted Williams was its number one supporter. He would make numerous visits and spend countless hours with kids in the hospital, all behind the eye of the media. An autograph from Ted usually meant a donation by the lucky fan to the Jimi Fund. The organization raised millions of dollars over the years thanks to the efforts of Ted Williams. This was all Franc needed to hear. His image of Ted was forming in his mind, and the sculptor would soon go to work.

           

After that my uncle didn’t see Franc for a while. One day Franc called up my uncle telling Ray that he needed a human model in a baseball uniform. It turned out that Josh was a baseball player for Venice High School, and volunteered to be Franc’s model. Franc took pictures of Josh from every angle, and used them in his development of the statue.

           

At the same time in Boston, Mayor Thomas Menino was talking with the Red Sox ownership about a statue of Ted Williams at Fenway Park. The ownership was enthusiastic about the idea, and eventually found out about the work that Franc was doing for the Ted Williams Museum. Franc called up Ray and asked if he would accompany him to meet with some representatives from the Red Sox in Boston. They were both on a flight the next day.

       

 This all led up to the dedication earlier in the day. Ray was able to attend as Franc’s “consultant”, and Ray brought along my father as a guest. It was like Christmas had come early for my uncle. The event was attended by the mayor, former Red Sox players like Johnny Pesky and Bobby Doerr, and the current Red Sox ownership. Members of the media were there, and Franc announced to one reporter that “the curse was over,” and that Ted was going to chase it away. My dad stood on the sidelines the whole time, acting like he belonged while taking in the whole ceremony.

           

I finally arrived at the park and met my dad and uncle, and they took me to see Ted. There were crowds of people slowly making their way up Van Ness Street, huddled around the statue to see if for the first time. What Franc captured was not Ted Williams the great baseball player, but Ted Williams the person. The statue depicts Ted holding a bat over his left shoulder, and with his right hand he’s placing a baseball hat on the head of a child. Franc immortalized Ted not only tipping his cap, but giving it away.

We walked to enter the gate on Yawkey Way, and Franc was walking a few feet in front of me. It seemed that everyone recognized him, and were shouting praises such as “Great work, Sculptor.” Franc just nodded politely to his fans and kept on walking.

           

Because of Ray’s “consultant” role, he was given tickets for him and my dad in one of the press boxes along with Franc. My seat was in the grandstands on the third base side, but I didn’t care. I had a familiarity with my dad’s tickets that sitting there seemed routine. I loved the opportunities to sit in different areas of the ballpark and see another vantage point of both the field and the game. It’s one of the more unique features of the game of baseball.

The outcome of the game could not have gone any better. The Sox busted out four runs in the first with home runs from third baseman Bill Mueller and outfielder Manny Ramirez. Tim Wakefield was masterful, allowing only two runs over seven innings, and the Sox won 6-2. It was the first of many regular season meetings, but this game had to mean something to the team and to Wakefield. Receiving a standing ovation when he was introduced on opening day, Wakefield knew the fans were behind him, and he went out and delivered. Overall it was a special night for Red Sox fans, and I was glad to be a part of it.