Fenway is an interesting structure, it's quite camouflaged amidst all of the buildings and warehouses. If it weren't for the stadium lights atop the structure, you would never know it was a ballpark. Apparently, when Roger Clemens first arrived in Boston in '84, he took a cab to Fenway. Upon arriving, he looked out the window and said to the cabbie, "no, sir, I don't think you understand. Fenway is a baseball stadium, this is a warehouse." The cabbie just looked at him, smiled, and pointed up at the big sign that said "Fenway Park, home of the Boston Red Sox."
So, I gotta tell you, upon arriving at Fenway, in its presence and in the presence of game-day fans, you are pretty overwhelmed at the nostalgic atmosphere. There is a small big band type quartet with trombone, tuba, and trumpet playing 20's era street music (think Disneyland Main Street Quartet), the hype of excited fans, carnival like vibe and an overall celebratory environment.And then my heart was turning...entering into the main Red Sox shop was awesome. First of all, it had to be about 16,000 square feet (I pick the random number of 16,000 because it seemed twice the size of our 8,000 square foot sanctuary), there was every last bit of merchandise available, including, but not limited to, some awesome looking vintage Red Sox gear from their early years, and best of all, probably 25% of their merch was Irish based.
I was in heaven.
Green, clovers, Irish flags, it was all there. The Red Sox official colors are red and blue, but looking in their store and in their catalog, you would think it was red, blue, and green. Boston is a town that has completely embraced its deep Irish roots, and it comes out, obviously in the Boston Celtics, but also very dominantly in the Boston Red Sox. If I weren't a True Blue Dodger fan, I would switch. Thankfully, the Sox are in the American League, so outside of a World Series against the Dodgers, I can now adopt the Sox as an American League team that I can happily root for. Pretty awesome. So as we enter into the tunnels of Fenway, the atmospheric buzz just kept building. To top it off, lo and behold, an Irish Pub (more of an Irish Kiosk) over to the right, with an old fashioned wooden bar and only three, count them, three beers on tap: Guinness, Smithwicks, and Harp. Only Irish. Only on tap. No Budweiser. It just got real.
Eric got a Guinness, I got Smithwicks (pronounced "Smithick's, silent "w," Ireland's oldest beer, circa 1737), and both were amazing (we traded off). It was, seriously, the best Smitty's I've ever had by far. Awesome.
We walked up the ramp into the open air of the stadium, and bam...Fenway. In all of its glory. Old, intimate, pillars holding up the top tiers, wooden seats, manual scoreboard and yes....the Green Monster. Shazam...it was just simply...I don't know, no words can really describe it. You felt as if you were back in the 20's watching an old fashioned baseball game with old fashioned fans. Even the teams themselves, yes, still millionaire adults playing a child's game, seemed old fashioned. These big league teams went from high profile sports superstars to local town legends and heroes. It was more like a college football game type of an atmosphere with fans supporting "their boys" rather than paying for their salaries. It felt like a minor league game with major league talent, it had the vibe you get when you watch "A League of Their Own." Well, minus the skirts, Madonna, and Rosie O'Donnel. So really nothing like that at all, except the old fashioned small town, small stadium atmosphere I guess.The whole game was surreal. The fans were epic. The most excited, committed fans in baseball (though I'll hold that thought because I have not been to Wrigley yet). And one of the random highlights of the game? The 8th Inning Stretch. Yes, there is a traditional 7th Inning Stretch with "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," but at Fenway, they have an 8th Inning Stretch. The featured song? "Sweet Caroline." Yep, I said it, the Neil Diamond classic.
So odd, so very, very odd, I have to tell you. But so unbelievably amazing. Completely caught off guard, we just kept looking at each other, slightly puzzled, but cracking up at how amazing this was. The verse starts off nice and mellow, people singing completely along. As it builds, the crowd even has Sunday School type hand motions: "Hands, touching hands, Reaching out, Touching me, touching you!!!"And then, in the big build up, going into the chorus, everyone sings at the top of their voice, "Sweet Caroline!" and then the music abruptly stops, allowing the crowd in a capella fashion yell out "WHOA WHOA WHOA!" The music comes back in, the singing continues, "Good times never seemed so good" and the music stops again, allowing again the crowd to shout "SO GOOD, SO GOOD, SO GOOD!!"
The song repeats for verse two and a second chorus. The whole time the opposing pitcher is still lobbing warm up pitches, the lead off batter is just taking casual swings, and the umpire is just kicking the dirt, waiting for the song to end and cue the inning. Even the announcer waits for the mellow verse section of the song to announce "now batting for the Red Sox" and doesn't dare try to announce during the big chorus. The best part of the song is the second time through the chorus, as the crowd sings "SO GOOD, SO GOOD, SO GOOD!!" for the second time a capella, that is the end of the song, and upon the final word "good," the batter enters the batting box, and the inning is in play.I figured that they chose the bottom of the 8th instead of the 9th because sometimes, if the BoSox are ahead in the game and they close out the top of the 9th, the game is over, and the fans don't get to sing the song because there is no bottom of the 9th. But having it in the 8th, it's always right before a Boston at bat, and if they are behind, it gives them a boost, and if they are ahead it gives them the jazz to keep on until the end.
It was one of those weird, random baseball moments that only baseball fans would really understand and appreciate. And let me tell you, it was just simply amazing.
After the game, we jumped in the car and made our way back to Salem. I drove straight to downtown, because I wanted to show Eric around Salem, but I wanted to do it in the middle of the night because...well because it's Salem.
We walked around the old part of town, cobblestone streets, 18th century storefronts, and walked past and peered into many of the 14 permanent, year round witchcraft stores in town.14.
I live in San Marcos, which is about double the size of Salem. Per capita, that would be like having 28 witchcraft stores in San Marcos alone, not including the surrounding towns like Escondido and Vista. 28, it's just insane.
I walked him to the Old Burying Ground, the oldest cemetery in New England. In it is John Hawthorne (not our friend from theMovement, but John tells me he is a descendant of this John), who was the judge that oversaw and convicted the 14 "witches" that were excecuted during the Salem Witch Trials of the 1600's. John's grandson was Nathaniel Hathorne, the American writer (he dropped the "W" to avoid connection with his witch hunting grand-dad). Nathaniel wrote "The House of Seven Gables," amongst other works, and the actual house he lived in and based the book on is right there in Salem.
The Burying Ground also has a fellow who was born in 1608 (he turns 400 this year), and ended up being a passenger on the Mayflower. Not the moving company, the ship. You know, pilgrims. As in pilgrims and Indians, first Thanksgiving, that old chestnut. Yeah, crazy huh. The Mayflower. Did you read that part? The Mayflower. Crazy talk.
Next to the cemetary is an open field with 14 stone hewn seats, each with the name of a "witch" that was excecuted, the day they were excecuted, and the way in which they were excecuted (most were hung, some were "pressed to death," a practice in which a piece of thin wood, like plywood, would be placed on them and the excecutioners would pile on large boulders until they were crushed...very civil). The "witches," you see, couldn't be buried in a town cemetery, because they were witches. They normally would be excecuted outside of town limits (not the normal gallows), and tossed into the wilderness for the wild animals to devour. Therefore, no grave was given to these men and women, so now, 350 years later, a memorial has been set up next to the town cemetery.
The thing about these "witches," and why I keep putting that in parenthesis, is that these men and women, more than likely, were at best normal citizens, wrongfully accused (the evidental process back then was very vague, any accusation with no hard evidence was considered legitamate, therefore your word against someone you didn't like was just as potent as a bloody knife, a very scary practice of "justice"). More likely than "average" citizens, however, these were probably born again, bible believing, Holy Spirit filled believers that were experiencing some manifestation of the Spirit filled life. Maybe having dreams, speaking in tongues, or worshipping in a way that was "unacceptable" to the reigning Anglican Church (remember the Anabaptists I mentioned in Day FOUR: Part 1?). This would be seen as "witchcraft," and these Christians (one was even a Pastor) would be killed for their unorthodox practice, labeled as witches and thrown to the wolves to have their bodies devoured.
The amazing thing about this, is that what the Church thought would be good for Christianity ended up backfiring. Now, in Salem, you have an unbelievable draw for witchcraft and the occult, and a place that needs Christ more than ever before. This is exactly why I am glad to know that there are people like Phil and Bev in the town to bring the love of Christ to the community...without the judgement of the 1600's.
After passing a few witch owned homes that have been painted black and adorned with pentacles and pentagrams (some of these building specifically are churches), we made our way back to Phil's house for a cigar and a bonfire session with Phil and some of his friends.
After they called it a night, we strolled up to Gallow's Hill, the place of the excecution of the 17th century "witches." It's a spooky place, it sits atop a hill that overlooks Salem. It's a wooded area way on the outskirts of the town. No one knows the exact location of the hangings, but being in the vicinity, especially at 2am, is quite freaky. Yeah, I know, I'm weird, I think it's a blast.
After chatting a bit about the trials and the history, we made our way back down, headed back to the Wyman's, and called it a night.
Total, per person (not including baseball tickets), for subway, food/beer at Cheers, Irish brekky and Sam Adams, and expensive Stadium beers/peanuts? $50
Day FIVE: Leaving Salem, Lexington and Concord, Old North Bridge, Denver
