Since when did Fenway turn into Disneyland?

Don't get me wrong. When Andrea and I went to the Red Sox game this past Sunday, we had a great time... but I couldn't help noticing that there seems to have been some significant changes in the 'ol ballpark since I last attended about 3 or 4 years ago.

The weekend up here was absolutely gorgeous. 70s and breezy the whole time - perfect baseball weather. And since I hadn't been to a game in awhile and Andrea previously had only been to Yankee Stadium, we decided to head down to Yawkey Way to see if we could grab a pair of "day of" tickets for the afternoon. Arriving at 10:30, we stood in line for about 3 hours fending off boredom with a little Soduku and some conversation with the college kids behind us who were in the midst of this year's addition to their "visit every ballpark in the country" road trip. Finally, a little before 2, we made the cutoff and got into the game. We walked around for awhile and eventually ended up in the behind the seats along the first base line. I think all the standing got to us though, as we only stayed until the end of the 4th inning. Sacrilege... I know. I'm usually the first one to shout that out when I hear someone beats out early like that. But I dare ya to stand in line for 3 to 4 hours and then stand for another 4 to 5 depending on game time... especially when you have a nice fat barbeque waiting for you when you get home. Honestly, the weather was so good, there's no way the day wouldn't have been a success as long as we were outside. Hey, at least we got to see Mike Lowell (nicknamed "Frylock" by some)'s first inning grand-slam. That was pretty cool.

Anyway, to elaborate on the initial thought I had when I started off here... I couldn't help but feeling that Fenway seems to have gotten a bit more... uhhhhh... sterile. The park itself is absolutely gorgeous... best I've ever seen it. The additions they've made over the years are really well done, which is a pretty cool feat in itself since it's got so much history and ya gotta be careful not to ruin the mystique with modernization. But along with the physical updates, there also seems to have been some changes in the stands themselves. No beer was being sold along the aisles (which I actually think was always the case, so I can't really fault that) and there's now no smoking anywhere in the stadium... not even in denoted little crack den areas or outlets that you'll find in some of the more modern parks of today. The security seemed to be no more than expected, but I found it a little odd when I saw one of the red-shirted guards out on Van Ness street glaring up at the crowd in the concession area. I'm guessing he was making sure no one was getting out of line (read: smoking, probably). We heard very little cat-calls or booing throughout the game. Not even the occasional "Hey, {fill in Baltimore player's name here} you SUCK!" And finally... most importantly... how do I say this... 99.9% of everybody in the stands were of caucasian persuasion. Seriously... I'm not joking. It was like a sea of whiteness which, although we added to it, seemed kinda unreal. Once it was pointed out and realized, we were actually kinda shocked and had to laugh a bit at the ridiculousness. For a few seconds, I actually thought I was in the white bread aisle at Smith's back in Salt Lake City!

I dunno... maybe I'm being more sensitive than I need to be. I've been told that I'm like that sometimes. Or maybe Joel was right when he said "Picnic in the Park" was happening that day and that's why I may have gotten the perspective I did. But for whatever the reason, although we had a fantastic time, I couldn't help but feeling we just left some sort of pre-fabbed experience as we were walking out. I guess I just like my baseball games with a little more color (pun intended).

Now, no one wants a shirtless drunken hick spouting out "F-bombs" in front of a 5-year-old, but I think having a handful of rabble-rousing jokers with mouths they probably shouldn't be kissing their Moms with is part of baseball. And you need the cigar-smoking old guy who's been to every game since 1918 filling out his scorecard and going on about how "so-and-so" should be sent packing to the minors. As far as the lack of ethnic diversity goes... maybe our Red Sox experience is just an extension of what some say is Boston's "whiteness" or a reflection of how ridiculously priced sports games are becoming. (After doing some research, I found Fenway's actually the most expensive baseball park in the nation. See for yourself.) Having some people around that earn less than 50K a year wouldn't hurt.

It's gonna be interesting to compare this past weekend's experience to the one I'm gonna have in a few weeks when I head down to Citizens Bank Park in Philly to watch my first-loved team. I'd be shocked if it's become the same situation down there. As I remember it, the attending crowds there are from all over the spectrum. And hopefully a couple of the city's infamous psychopath fans will show up as well.

I can't wait.

posted: 08.08.06

This past Sunday I had a real "Blast from The Past" when I met and had lunch with... the one... the only... Pete "The Greek" Maniatis! To begin this story though, I'll actually have to step back a few weeks.

A couple Wednesdays ago, I was having a late dinner and The Breakfast Club came on the TV. A classic movie in it's own right, but for one reason or another, about 10 minutes into it, I had this weird middle school flashback that drove me away from the TV and back to the computer. The memory I had was of the first time I met an old buddy of mine named Ryan Caserta. I was hanging out with another friend of mine at the time and was about to take off home when Ryan came riding up the street on his bike. He wheeled over to us all fired up about how he'd just picked up the aforementioned movie at our local video store and, although he'd already seen it 10 times, he was gonna have an 11th viewing and invited us along. Well, as memory serves me, I couldn't get out of going home and was kinda pissed off that I wasn't gonna be able to tag along. Now, although I wasn't able to hang out that evening, over the next few years Ryan and I became fairly good friends. But as time wore on, particularly when he moved to Florida and the college years arrived, we unfortunately lost touch.

Anyway, like I said before, I broke away from my dinner and decided to see if I could find Mr. Caserta somewhere on the vast expanses of the Intarweb. Five minutes of "Googling" (that sounds so dirty, doesn't it?) was all it took to find his website. I shot him an email and thought to myself "Damn... that was easy. I wonder who else I can find." After a couple hours of searching, I had located about four or five "long-losters" and fired out emails to them in an attempt to re-connect... Pete was one of 'em.

Pete and I met during our first days at Boston College. Nicknamed "The Greek", well... 'cus he's Greek, one of the earliest memories I have of that time period is of him wearing one of those beer helmets at nine in the morning when I stopped by for some pre-football game festivities. I'm pretty sure it was then that I realized the next four years were gonna be quite a ride. We had a blast during our time in "higher learning" but, like Ryan, Pete and I lost touch after school when we went our separate ways into the corporate life.

Well, he's an MIA pal no more! Pete's fine and dandy now, living in Orange CT with his wife and two daughters and running Zoi's On Orange - his own restaurant and catering business. A bit more grown'd up, but still same 'ol dude... a natural-born businessman and funny as hell.

Pete... if you're reading this, it was a blast catching up this past weekend. We'll definitely do it again soon.

And for the rest of ya... if you're bored, I highly recommend doing a little "Googling" of yer own. You'd be surprised who you can find and what a trip it'll be when you do. (Assuming, of course, the friend you track down WANTS to be found by you!)