With the end of football season, my attention turns to Opening Day. There’s a term I learned long ago being raised in the Boston area … “Born into it”
Because my grandfather (Papa) was a die hard Red Sox fan, I’d have no choice in the team I’d root for. I was “Born into it”. I wouldn’t have it any other way. The Red Sox are my religion and Fenway Park is my temple. I fight back tears every time I walk up the ramp and see the field and the Green Monster (left field wall).
I can’t recall the first time I went to a game with my Papa, but I remember many games at Fenway or front of his tv or just talking Sox to him over the years. Papa was born in Romania in 1915. He moved to the US when he was 18. He lived for the Red Sox. Even my wedding in the Caribbean couldn’t get in the way. I had a tv set up and he didn’t miss a pitch as the Sox beat the Yankees in September of 2004.
A month later, on October 27, 2004 … it was 11:30 at night … there was only one voice I wanted to hear … I called … he picked up … in tears he said “we did it son!” The Red Sox had just won their first World Series in 86 years.
Papa passed in his sleep December 22, 2010. He now has a brick with his name on it in the outfield concourse of Fenway Park. He left me so many great memories and I’ve taken on the responsibility of passing the Sox tradition to my two boys, CJ & Cameron. Although my boys were “Born into it”, they are now 1700 miles away. Every summer, we go to Fenway Park (they also have their own brick!). They have almost every Sox related t-shirt and hat. On a side note, I did my best to have my fist born named “Fenway Park Rosenthal” … I was over-ruled in a 1 to 1 vote.
I also did something they won’t understand until they are old like daddy … in their room at my house is the actual first base used in CJ’s first Red Sox game … just me and him … on his 3rd birthday April 9, 2009. I also got my hands on the actual second base used in Cameron’s first Sox game (4/17/11).
On October 5, 2012 I got to do something I could never have dreamed of. At 9:00am on that Friday morning, I stepped into the batters box at Fenway Park to take swings. I could never put into words the emotions that flowed as I walked from the on deck circle to the plate. The names that have stood there over the years… Ted Williams, Yaz, Nomar, and my boyhood hero, Fred Lynn. Those feelings paled in comparison to the only three people I’d have given anything to be there with me … my Papa was looking down on me … my boys were 1700 miles. With few hundred eyes on me, I was lost on cloud nine with tears in my eyes as I swung away.
As a Red Sox fan, I have an allegiance to Red Sox Nation to make sure my boys are die hard Sox fans like their dad.
If you want to understand this a little more, watch the movie “Fever Pitch”.
If you were also “Born Into It”, you have to check out www.chowdaheadz.com
If you have kids and want to make memories … the Red Sox offer a few dates that kids can run the bases after the game … take a tour of Fenway Park … or have a sleep over with Wally the Green Monster at Hotel Commonwealth.
I swear I’ve lived a lot of lives, I’ve seen most if not all … if I could ever pull it off to have my kids throw out the first pitch at Fenway, I’d go to my grave not asking for another thing.
