Back Home in Fenway Park

FENWAY PARK — It always feels like a homecoming when we return to “America’s Most Beloved Ballpark,” as the illuminated sign over the first-base grandstand proclaims. I have been showing up here regularly since at least 1967, maybe longer. That year is my earliest memory of being at Fenway, at age 12, sitting with my dad, brother Scott and childhood friend Bruce Courtemanche in the right-field bleachers. It was the next-to-last game of the season, and improbably the Red Sox were in a pennant race. Even more improbably, we had tickets, purchased early in the season by my dad. Now, 57 seasons...

Read more...