The first thing that hits you is the dull roar of the slowly gathering crowd. Your ears fill with the sizzle of excitement that pours off every fan in the stands. Then it hits your nose. The pungent scent of ballpark beers, franks, and peanuts permeate your nostrils. But, ultimately, it is your eyes that savor the most delicious part of the feast. Once you focus your attention to the green wall in left, all other surroundings are put on pause for a moment. You think of the stories of all the greats that defended that wall, that crushed line drives into that wall, and all the history the wall has seen in its century of life. Call this explosion of senses the Green Monster Rendezvous; or at least how I remember my first time visiting Fenway Park.
No Green Monster Rendezvous is complete without a landmark of baseball
If you watch enough game broadcasts, you have heard the cliche conversations about famous Fenway fixtures. The Red Seat, Pesky Pole, and the triangle in center field, to name a few. But until you step out onto the concourse and drink it all in yourself, it is hard to appreciate how rare this abode is. On the eve of my first visit to America’s most beloved ballpark, I spent the night tossing and turning. How could a boy sleep with his dream set to come true in just hours? “Is the Monster as big as they say it is? What are Bostonians like? How close do we sit to the players?” My mind raced with uncertainties as I tried to anticipate what my Green Monster Rendezvous would be.
Your personal recollection of your first time visiting Fenway is a story in and of itself. Viewing baseball in a space occupied by millions of fans throughout generations of American history is a feat few parks can boast. The unmistakable green that accentuates the blue and red creates a color war that rivals any in sports. The memory of seeing the field for the first time is what still comes to mind when I hear “Fenway.”
“Whether you are five, 25, or 75, a true Red Sox fan feels that same influx of energy every time.”
But no part of digesting Fenway is complete until you finally observe the Green Monster. My first experience with the Monster was cinematic: my jaw dropped so low that you could have swept it up off the ground. The Monster’s majesty of such a towering presence might wear off with age for some, but not for me. Every time I walk up the stairs to the grandstands, the same rush of adrenaline rushes over. Whether you are five, 25, or 75, a true Red Sox fan feels that same influx of energy every time.
I was so excited to feast my eyes on the diamond that I ran off. My family toiled behind me, surely ready to ridicule me from sprinting off of the group. But I did not care. Scold me, warn me, do what you must; it will not be before I finally see the field. The funny thing about it is, they did not say a word. They knew what it meant for me. All of our parents know this feeling, because they all have their own Green Monster Rendezvous stories. In fact, if you are reading this, you have your own story to tell about this special day in your life.
Comment below with your own tale about your first time seeing America’s most beloved ballpark.