Why Boston?

I was born with the ability to call the infield fly rule. I knew how to keep score before I could even write. I knew what 6-4-3 meant before I knew how to add or subtract. And, for me, the saying "Diamonds are a girl's best friend" has a more important meaning than some shiny piece of jewelry hanging on my neck. I went to my first baseball game before I ever came out of the womb. I had no genetic hope of ever not loving the most amazing, stressful, exciting, heartbreaking, remarkable, complex game of baseball. And I don't think it's possible for me to love something more than the smell of that beautiful, neatly-cut grass, the sight of perfectly white lines around the most incredible color of brown I have ever seen, in the middle of a warm, Spring day with a light breeze and blue sky, and hearing the National Anthem played before those two words that make my life worth living, "Play Ball!"

I'm from Dallas, Texas, home of the Texas Rangers. I went to the Ballpark in Arlington many, many times before the age of eight. Then I moved to Atlanta, GA where watching the Braves on a Sunday afternoon was the epitome of a great weekend. So why Boston? Why do I have this unhealthy obsession with the Red Sox when I'm not even from there? I can't even count how many times I've been asked those questions, or been told that I "jumped on the bandwagon" or that I'm not a real fan because I'm not from up north.

At the ripe young age of twelve, I was forced to get on a plane, to be taken away from all my friends for a week and fly to Boston, MA with my family to watch my brother play in a baseball tournament. While we were up there, we had a free day that we took to tour the city. Being the baseball-loving family that we are, we couldn't be in Boston and not visit Fenway Park. We, unfortunately, could not get tickets to a game but my Dad being the smooth talker he is, talked the security guard into letting us in for a few minutes without tickets (my Dad had never been to Fenway, and one of his dreams in life is to visit all the ballparks in the country). I had to ask my Dad the details, because at the time, I didn't care who was playing. But, he reminded me that Carlos Peña of the Detroit Tigers was up to bat and we got to stand in the aisle and watch. Before we left, and stepped back on to Yawkey Way, something inside me clicked. I knew, appreciated, understood and loved the game of baseball. And something absolutely remarkable happened inside of me and I was able to feel every emotion and history of that beloved ballpark. I could see Ted Williams in the batter's box, I could see Babe Ruth on the mound in his Boston uniform and I could feel the heartache, the upset of "The Curse of the Bambino," and at that point, 83 years of disappointment. I could sense that even through all the misery, and all the frustration, the hope of victory and triumph in all the hearts of those fans sitting in those stands and I wanted nothing more than to be a part of the greatest Nation in the world.

From my living room, all the way in Atlanta, GA, I was on the edge of my seat during the ALCS in 2004, and almost had a heart-attack when the last out was made in the World Series and 86 years of pain, distress, anguish and upset were finally broken. And I thrived, as a seventeen year old girl, with every other Red Sox fan during 2007 when we took that trophy home again.

I wasn't able to visit Boston again until May of 2009. I was lucky enough to be able to see Dave Matthews Band (my other obsession) perform two shows at Fenway Park (the Sox were out of town that week because of the concert, of course...). I spent five days there touring the city that I love, and enjoying the fact that I was spending time in the place where I know I am meant to be. I had to have been the only teenage girl there, at a DMB concert, who was calling her Dad to tell him that she had just kissed Pesky's pole, and sending him a picture message of me sitting on the third base dugout. I was in my heaven. I have never been happier, and it was absolutely, without a doubt, no questions asked, the most amazing experience of my life.

One day I will move to Boston, I will take over Heidi Watney's job (far-fetched, but it is my ultimate goal in life, FYI) and I will live the life that I know I'm meant to live. But, until then, I will continue to sing "Sweet Caroline" driving down the road, pretending I am experiencing the middle of the 8th inning of a Red Sox game at Fenway. I will proudly wear my Red Sox hat every shift I work and I will happily drive around in my red Ford Escape that is practically a shrine of the most amazing baseball team in the world. I have cried, smiled, been angry, but most of all, been a true fan to the Boston Red Sox. Baseball is love. Baseball has been and always will be such an important part of my life. So why Boston? Let me ask you a better question, why not Boston?


“Baseball isn’t a life-and-death matter, but the Red Sox are.”

Jenn