How many kids will attend opening day game at Fenway Park for their first experience of a major league park? It could be 1,000 or even 2,000, and perhaps many more. It will be a dream-come-true for them.
The sharpness of every sense will be heightened for these kids who will recall every detail of this experience in decades to follow. Some will savor their sensory overload, rendered speechless and into a kind of paralysis for a while.
I had the opportunity to talk to several dozen people about their cherished memories of going to Fenway Park for the first time when they were at an impressionable age.
A first time visit to Fenway Park becomes the ultimate trip to a field of dreams. Most report that they were eight to twelve years old when dad, stepdad, or uncle, brought them to the experience of their young lives.
It is a rite of passage in ways that are subtle and powerful. One father gave his son the tickets to hold for one week prior to their trip. The responsibility of protecting them weighed heavily. His father said simply, “Don’t lose them.”
Nearly half of two dozen interviewed said their first game was a Red Sox versus Yankee game. The din and energy could be overwhelming at a game that notches up the intensity level beyond mere games of the season.
One boy, eight years old at the time, wearing his Red Sox hat and carrying his glove, was shocked to see hundreds of others in the same outfit, the same age, all in the same boat. Another confessed his father held his hand tighter than ever before or since as they went through the turnstiles.
Others couldn’t believe the players on their baseball cards were live, really playing, and so close them on the field.
Aromas of peanuts and popcorn dominate the memories, and a few youngsters suffer the indignity of having beer spilled on them by tipsy adults. Some sat in the old 600 Club, or the skyboxes, if dad’s company gave them tickets. One boy sat in the bleachers where his father said, “ The real fans are here.”
One girl said she didn’t care so much about the game, but savored the experience. Her father bought her a Red Sox T-shirt that she long ago outgrew, but keeps tucked away because of the sweet memories it provides.
Many others recall the Mini-Batting Helmet with the Red Sox logo from which they ate ice cream. Enterprising kids had the Sox players sign the plastic container.
One boy in a Yankee cap was at Fenway for a Yankee game, sitting near the third base visitor dugout. His aunt heard that George Steinbrenner was sitting next to the Yankee dugout, and she brought him over. Security stopped them and said, “No more autographs today from Mr. Steinbrenner.”
Grumpy old Steinbrenner looked over his shoulder at the boy and barked, “Yes, one more.”
The memories of a first game can be overwhelming. And, for a thousand more kids at Fenway Park on Opening Day, it will be the story of a lifetime. It’s definitely the field of dreams.
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