Steve+Burke

Steve Burke Composition Mr. Bouton 1/11/09

Narrative Essay The cold Boston air ran chills down my back. It was a cloudy October night and Yawkey Way had never looked better. Ubiquitous trash covered the streets, the smell of sausage and hot dogs were all around, and best of all I was right next to my father. I had begged my father for years to get tickets to a Red Sox game, but year after year I was left empty handed. My passion for the Boston Red Sox was undeniable. I named our new black lab Nomar after Red Sox shortstop Nomar Garciaparra. Posters covered almost every wall in my bedroom. I designated a drawer in my dresser strictly for Red Sox apparel. I was a Red Sox fanatic who had never witnessed the most magical part of this historic baseball team. This, of course, is Fenway Park. Built in the Fenway-Kenmore section of Boston in 1912, Fenway has served as the home of the Red Sox for just less than 100 years. This is the oldest stadium in all of Major League Baseball. Many avid baseball fans consider the park a shrine. The stadium surprisingly blends in well with surrounding building giving it a friendly, neighborhood feel. Yawkey Way, Lansdowne Street, the Cask N’ Flagon, Pesky’s Pole, and the Green Monster are all famous places around Fenway that I had dreamed of one day seeing. That day came when I was just seven years old. It was four thirty in the afternoon, when my father came flying up the driveway in his Toyota forerunner. I was watching television in the kitchen eating my favorite banana and peanut butter sandwich, not knowing my life was about to change forever. The kitchen door opened and in came my dad. He was loosening his tie as he walked in with a frantic look on his face. I paused from my delicious sandwich and watched as quickly took off his shoes. My father told me to get changed because he had tickets to the Red Sox playoff game that night. He continued to tell me how he aquireed the tickets from a co-worker at his office, but I did not care. I let a scream and I leapt out my chair in excitement. Tonight was going to be the night I had always dreamed about. Once the news set in, I immediately ran up stairs to my Red Sox shrine of a bedroom, and picked out clothes from my special drawer. I had this outfit picked out forever. Levi Jeans, a white Red Sox undershirt, a blue Nomar Garciaparra jersey, my authentic Red Sox hat with Dwight Evans signature on the brim, completed with my grey Red Sox sweatshirt. Tonight’s game was just not any old Red Sox game. It was the playoffs. They were in the middle of the American League Championship Series. The winner of this playoff series advances to the World Series. Best of all the Red Sox were playing the Yankees. Down two games to none to our dreaded rivals this was a must win for the Red Sox. Pedro Martinez took the mound for the Sox and former Red Sox pitcher, Roger Clemens was the starter for the Yankees. This rivalry could not be bigger. The Yankees were recently dominating, but this year the Red Sox were back, better than ever. I could not have asked for a better first game. As I held my Dad’s hand crossing Brookline Ave, it made me realize how much my Dad and I loved the game of baseball. This sport with a simple ball and bat brought me close with my Dad. He bought me my first Franklin Pro Series glove when I was just four. Granted the glove was bought at Wal-Mart, I cherished it. When I was just five years old, he would stand on one side of the house and throw a tennis ball over the roof to see if I could catch it in my Franklin glove (We couldn’t use a real baseball incase it would land on me). He coached all of my baseball teams. From tee-ball, through coaches pitch and Little League, he was always in the dugout with me. I was only allowed to stay up late if I was watching the Red Sox game. My Dad always promised me he would take me to a Red Sox game, and tonight he finally he came through. The Fenway section of Boston looked even better than I imagined. The litter, the smell, the chants of, “Yankees suck,” the crowds of Red Sox fans, my Dad, I felt like I was in Heaven.