A Yankee Fan’s Odyssey to the Heart of Red Sox Nation

I’ve always been of the mindset that if Massachusetts sunk into the Atlantic Ocean we wouldn’t be missing too much. I’ve always held a grudge against Boston in particular for both the obvious sports related reasons and for something best left unsaid here. The city has hurt me both on the field and off and it shows no mercy. Despite that, I took it upon myself to make the trek to Bean Town for the Yankees-Red Sox series last weekend.

I joined forces with a couple of friends for this endeavor, both sadly Red Sox fans but hey, nobody’s perfect.

I entered the state of Massachusetts for the first time Thursday evening. Everything was shrouded in fog and darkness giving the last leg of the journey an eerie vibe. I half expected to see Puritans burning witches along the Mass. Pike but there was no sign of such trouble yet.

It was at this time I learned that you can only buy alcohol at something called a “packy” in this backwards state. Only sketchy liquor stores and out of the way establishments seem to have the proper paperwork deemed necessary by the state. Even the places that do sell it have outrageous prices. Twenty dollars for twenty-four of your favorite frosty beverages. Of course there’s always Fenway Park if you feel like parting with eight dollars for a single beer.

Anyway, I continued my ceaseless vigil, keeping an eye out for witches, liberals and hippies, and many individuals who fit into all three categories simultaneously.

After spending the night west of Springfield we headed into the city Friday to set up residence with a friend of ours who attends Boston College; remember that because it comes into play later.

We dropped off our belongings and headed to the game, a 7:05 start deep in the heart of Boston.

For those who don’t know, Fenway Park is right in the middle of the city unlike most modern ballparks that are built out in the middle of nowhere; Foxboro for example where the Patriots play is 30 miles outside of Boston.

This makes parking a fun little endeavor. We paid 35 dollars to park in an alley next to a Goodyear Tires establishment a couple blocks from the park. That’s a steal compared to some of the prices we saw on our way in.

Finally we got to the park and ventured onto Yawkey Way. This street runs along one side of Fenway and closes several hours before game time (a relatively new tradition). It’s filled with fans, sweet smelling grilled meats, strong drink and all the Red Sox memorabilia you could want; or turn your nose up at as I did.

The weather was dreary and a storm was on the way but we made it inside just in time to see Derek Jeter tossing warm up throws with Jorge Posada as the other Yankees got some last pre game stretches in before the rain came. Ultimately it only delayed the game a half hour and in the mean time we wandered the low-ceilinged concourses of Fenway Park.

We got some food where one of my favorite scenes from Field Of Dreams takes place when Kevin Costner says to James Earl Jones:

Costner: What do you want?

Jones: I want them to stop looking to me for answers, begging me to speak again, write again, be a leader. I want them to start thinking for themselves. I want my privacy.

Costner: No, I mean, what do you WANT? [Gestures to the concession stand they’re in front of]

Jones: Oh. Dog and a beer.

I’m a long-time Yankees fan and though I’m no stranger to wearing my team’s clothing in enemy territory (think Charlottesville) I was a bit leery of wearing my Yankee hat in the heart of Red Sox territory.

Much to my surprise however, I really didn’t get any heckles. There were a few “Boo you’s” and things of that nature plus countless dirty looks but overall the people were friendly enough. It wasn’t until the 5th inning of Sunday night’s game that I got my first “Yankees Suck!” while I was headed back to my seat with food in hand to which I replied with a big smile “I know!”

The poor guy looked thoroughly disappointed and a few rows back a Sox fan said “Go Tech though” and slapped me on the back of my Virginia Tech sweatshirt. Believe it or not I saw a number of Hokies at the games and it made me feel like less of a Yankee leper, home didn’t seem quite so far away.

Speaking of Tech, I feel that the Hokie Nation is pretty similar in a lot of ways to Red Sox fans. The diehard New England fan base eats, drinks and sleeps Red Sox baseball. Though I’m a long-time Yankees fan and I hope sincerely that Boston never wins another game in any sport, especially baseball, I’ve always had a tremendous amount of respect for their fans and that was only reinforced on this trip.

All you see are Red Sox hats and jerseys on people of all ages. Everyone from elderly women to young kids, even babies, everyone loves the Sox and while part of me couldn’t stand it, the rest was highly impressed.

The game was tremendous from my viewpoint as the Yankees won 9-5. Everything that could have happened did. Yankees manager Joe Torre was ejected in the fifth inning for arguing a call and the strategic move seemed to fire his club up as the men in pinstripes held on to an early lead that was just the beginning of the fireworks.

In the ninth, Red Sox first baseman Kevin Youkilis took a great deal of offense and a Scott Proctor fastball off his left shoulder and batting helmet. His firey strut toward the mound cleared the benches and bullpens and set the table for another classic Sox-Yanks weekend.

Saturday we took most of the game in from Cheers bar and grill where they apparently didn’t know my name nor did they approve of my Yankees hat judging by the looks I received.

The Yankees lost so I don’t recall much other than Yankees first baseman Doug Mientkiewicz getting a concussion and lying dazed and confused on the infield dirt, a picture that pretty much summed up the day as the Yanks fell 11-6.

I was angry, tired and no one in my group would leave the bar we had shifted to a few blocks from Fenway. I left and aimlessly wandered the streets, finally stumbling upon a rather bohemian little coffee shop that revived me for the remainder of the day. That half hour I spent alone was the most at ease I felt all weekend, strange but true, a lone Yankee free to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting city.

Sunday morning came and the rubber match seemed distant. I was ready to pitch in case the Yankees needed me. Not that my 43 MPH curveball would fool the Sox, but given our spotty relief pitching this season I was ready if the call came.

As I mentioned earlier we were staying near Boston College with a friend who goes there. I made it a point to have her take us around campus; a nice compact little spot well adorned with flowers and nicely trimmed lawns.

As is often my luck, Alumni Stadium the home of BC’s football team and the site of Virginia Tech’s most miserable gridiron effort last season was left unlocked and we wandered in so that I could change the karma of the place.

I did a number of rituals that must remain secret for I don’t want them being reversed on Tech, but rest assured they work. For proof, ask Mike Krzyzewski what happened after I visited Cameron Indoor prior to last season.

After that we headed into the city to take a guided tour of Fenway Park. The oldest park in the major leagues is smaller than one might expect. The odd dimensions and small quarters lend themselves to cramped seating arrangements. I was lucky enough to avoid being seated behind the large metal beams that hold the upper decks up, but many who have come there over the years are not so fortunate.

The Red Sox organization has done a nice job of putting seats where they can and updating things to make it as modern a facility as possible, but you can still tell it’s an old park. It’s both refreshing and annoying at times but such is Boston.

The tour is something I highly recommend. You get to see all over the park, including parts you wouldn’t normally see. This was a game day so our access was somewhat restricted, but still we got to go up on top of the Green Monster and see the view from the bar and open air seating high up in right field. We saw where the rich people sit in the plush club seating and we saw ESPN’s Peter Gammons talking to Yankes GM Brian Cashman on the dugout steps.

The highlight of the tour came at the end however and I’ll never forget it.

Yankees third baseman Alex Rodriguez came out to start his pre game warm up with a medicine ball and jump rope. He walked right in front of our tour now seated along the third base line. Predictably, the Red Sox fans started booing A-rod who promptly waved with that unmistakable “I’m the man and you know it” grin and took a large sweeping bow that drew laughs and applause from even the Boston faithful.

That brings us to the final game. Everything reeked of October, from the teams playing to the unseasonably cold and wet weather. There was more excitement in the air than the first game and it was clear that we were in for a show.

Sure enough, the Red Sox scored several runs in the 4th inning off of Andy Pettitte who left the game in the same inning due to problems with his lower back likely caused by the weather which turned nasty with drizzle and wind.

Josh Beckett pitched up-and-down but managed to hold things together for 6 1/3 innings and the Boston relievers held the Yankees in check until Robinson Cano hit a screaming triple to deep center that tied the game as rain began to come down harder.

That set the stage for the big guy, Alex Rodriguez. Hard throwing Red Sox closer Jonathan Paplebon was in the game to face A-Rod and got ahead in the count 0-2. At no point in the at bat was I worried.

“A-Rod’s going to hit a home run,” I said excitedly before the at bat. “He’s more than due.”

Sure enough he drove a ball to deep right center field that didn’t seem to have the distance but landed comfortably over the wall in Boston’s bullpen.

Mariano Rivera came in the next inning and shut the book on the series preserving the 6-5 Yankee win as the skies fully opened up drowning the sorrows of the Boston faithful and making our walk back to the transit hub a miserable endeavor.

As I sit here now it’s hard to believe I was there. Right in the heart of the beast, and yet I survived to tell about it. There were no fights, no heated arguments about baseball superiority. The worst thing to come from the trip is I now say things are “wicked” and my R’s have gone missing from words they should be in only to crop up in words in which they have no business.

Ultimately I went 2-0 against Boston last weekend and lived to tell about it. I think if the Yankees wish to keep winning, perhaps Mr. Steinbrenner should give me some tickets.