Have you ever seen anything quite as sad as Fenway Park completely empty?
Until this year, this would have bothered me a little. Given the fact I got to attend 4 games and walk the hallowed halls of this great park, I've got a slightly skewed perspective. I touched the Green Monster and the Pesky Pole. I stood behind home plate and looked up at the press boxes.
I even took the tour with Kelly O and snapped a photo of the ledge behind the RF seats where some poor dink paid $35 to stand on a ledge and attempt to watch a game.
I stood behind the seats for over 7 hours while balancing myself on a guard rail, in the rain, to watch Josh Beckett lose to the Angels thanks to my good friend Rob. So while I'm not an expert, I at least have first hand knowledge.
As for the result of my extensive testing and first hand knowledge, I've come to the following conclusion; There is NOTHING more pitiful than an empty Fenway Park.
Come next April, the place will be jumping; beer will be sold, Fenway Franks will be eaten, and "Sweet Caroline" will be sang. Until then, the great old park will be silent. Gone will be the cheers, boos, and curses of 35,000 plus die hards wanting the Old Towne Team to pull one out in the late innings.
No Papi, no Tito, and no Joe Castiglione turning a long fly ball into an epic home run.
I hate the winter, with all the snow, sleet, and broken dreams for RSN.
Give me Spring Training, DO and Remy in Magnum P.I. shirts, and TC and Eck pontificating on the season to come.
I have no idea WHF I'm going to do for the next 4 months.
Thank God I've got Rakes to write about.
Lunch with My Dad
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