Monday, April 17, 2006
It's Patriot's Day here in MA and I'm not altogether sure it's not an official holiday of the BoSox Nation. Whooowhee! What a home opening. We set out for Fenway from the Cape, right after Mass, in order to stop in at Petite Roberto , the bistro, to celebrate Easter morning. It was a perfect French bistro and to show he was fully in the moment, Joe Montana ordered the rabbit! I went with my old standby, the poached eggs on lettuce and bacon salad. It was all prepared to absolute perfection and we finished with exquisite coffee and pastry, the likes of which I have not had since in Paris last. What a way to kick off the finish vestiges of Lent!
We made our way into Fenway, the quintessential old-school American ballpark. The thing I like about Fenway is that it, like Wrigley, is in a real neighborhood; you don't drive and drive to an industrial part of town that is dotted with parking garages and assorted support service infrastructures and then take the elevator to street level and trot into the field. You park ($30 for the afternoon) and walk through the neighborhood, on a pilgrimage to a sublime sporting outdoor experience. The stores, the shops, the bars, the vendors are all open for business and for partying and people talk and shout freely to each other. Fenway has such a celebration thing going with their baseball. You turn on to Yawkey Ave and it's blocked off for the day, where there is a huge street party going on, people drinking beer, eating, laughing, updating their wardrobes, celebrating their unique existence as a members of the BoSox Nation. They are always singularly happy and you absorb their joy as fans in a moment. You are also immediately aware of true baseball heritage this team has given to the American fans; baseball tradition is Fenway and the BoSox and Fenway and the BoSox are baseball tradition. There is nothing new or recent about this team; the Babe played here. And on this Easter Sunday, he smiled widely as 2006 baseball kicked into low gear in Boston.
Loved the Johnny Damon fans that never say die; there were lots. Another thing that's really cute is how the Red Sox fans will not be commited to a particular color, say red or blue. They wear pink, celery, and any color associated with Peoples' Republic of Ireland--just in case, you are deaf, dumb and blind and missed that Boston is deep and wide in Irish Catholics. The ESPN Without sports ad campaign played out the back of a BoSox shirt as this: Without sports, I'd still hate New York.
And do you know what the Easter Bunny does after he delivers all the eggs? He goes to Fenway for the game, where he drinks beer and calls his friends on his cellphone to report back!
Boston people have a great sense of humor and a guy sitting behind us told us that he lost a fortune on the Super Bowl because the only thing he hates more than the Yankees are the Steelahs. People are darling and friendly; we walked out in front of a Mariners' family complete with their PNW stroller, toting the little one. The Boston fans were quite friendly with them and interested in what they were doing in Boston on Easter Sunday (on their way to Disney World). Actually, it was the Mariners' fans that were ill at ease and a tiny bit stand-offish. And so it goes. Oh, yeah, and the Rem-dogs are wicked good, too.