Fenway Park at Dusk: Nine Innings in Heaven

What follows is an interpretation. I approached the front gate hand-in-hand with my younger brother. "Stay together kids," warned my dad. I'm surprised my eyes didn't roll out from their sockets they were stretched so wide.

Twists and turns and more people in one place than I ever thought possible, we turned again and began an ascent. With every step, every meter left behind, the hum grew louder. There were echos, screams, and out-of-sync clapping of hands. My heart jumped, thumped, and I was about to enter a world far removed from anything I could have imagined.  

Suddenly, as we stood atop that final rise, all sounds ceased and my eyes scanned in slow motion at all that stood before me, from right field to left until coming to rest upon that huge, storied Green Monster.

Could it be? I tried to catch my breath, the scent of grass, freshly trimmed and so green, the greenest grass, the greenest everything I have ever seen! Then the roar of the crowd began invading my head until it bellowed full force like a Nor'easter.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting in a seat right behind the dugout. "The Red Sox dugout!” I screamed.

My older brother and I sat staring at each other for the next several minutes, not knowing just what to do next. “Far out, huh, man," he exclaimed. I don't know if I answered him, but I do know I studied every move those players made that glorious night. Huge lights shone like stars upon the very stars of my world.

I don't remember who won the game, not even who the opposing team was. What I do recall, though, was the awe that consumed me, perfection in my world that would stay with me for quite a long time after just like that dream you never want to awaken from.

I was part of something then that I knew would be emblazoned within me for eternity.

Oh, and one more thing; I do remember the heavenly taste of a Fenway Frank with Gulden’s mustard.

Far out!

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