With Roger Clemens most likely riding off into the sunset for the final time, I found myself reflecting on the night he struck out 20 (for the first time). I wasn't at the game, I was off at UMASS pretending to be a student.
I took a class called "Seminar in Critical Legal Theory" that involved a lot of class participation. I was always prepared for this class and vigorously argued with the professor on just about any topic. Since it was at 9 AM, I made sure I was alert and lucid as class participation was half the grade. I had the class on Wednesday April 30, the day after Clemens struck out 20.
We'd been watching the game at our apartment and as the game wore on, there was more and more excitement (and people-we had the nicest TV in our section of the complex so drop-ins were numerous that night). This was college, so there was beer and lots of it. The crowd hung on every pitch as Clemens neared this baseball milestone. After the game was over, we had a celebration and, of course, more beer. Lots of it.
Needless to say, no homework or reading got completed that night and I was uncharacteristically unprepared for my "Seminar in Critical Legal Theory" class.
I slinked into the classroom and grabbed a seat in the rear. The prof began his usual pre-discussion lecture and then segued into Q&A and discussion. That morning the class as a whole just wasn't into it. The prof began randomly calling on students for reaction and he eventually made his way to me. He asked me a question and expected me to comment, after all, I always had something to say. Alas, I had not done the reading because I'd been engrossed in the ballgame (and the beer).
I had to think quick. I spoke and said, "Well professor, I'm not sure about your question, but I can tell you Roger Clemens broke Tom Seaver's Major League strikeout record last night by striking out 20." The class broke out in laughter, even the prof chuckled, "yes, I heard about that."
He left me alone for the rest of the class and the next time we met, I was back to my usual, prepared self.
Not a Fenway Flashback, just my personal take on a bit of baseball history.
Fenway Flashback Remote
The Fenway Flashback Strikes Back
I'll never forget the first time I saw Star Wars.
My dad woke up one fine Saturday morning (July 23, 1977 to be exact) and announced to my brother and I "Call up a friend, I'm taking you to the ballgame!" We each rallied a friend and off we went to Fenway.
Back in those days it was fairly routine to go to the park on game day and get tickets. Even though it was only two years removed from the great 1975 team, Fenway rarely sold out. You could always get bleacher seats (they were actually bleachers back then too). So off we went through Newton, past Boston College, through Cleveland Circle and down Commonwealth Avenue towards Fenway.
We were particularly excited because a young pitching phenom named Dennis Eckersley was pitching for the visiting Indians. I was going to be quite a day.
Dad parked the car in his secret spot and we walked a few blocks to Fenway and went to the ticket office. No seats available there-"try the bleachers" said the gal at the counter. We went around to the other side of the park to the bleacher gate and to our shock, there were no seats available there either. A sellout at Fenway! It was unheard of!
Now my father had four very disappointed boys on his hands. He rallied quickly. "How about we go see that new Star Wars movie? It's playing at the Cleveland Circle Cinema."
A resounding "YEAH!" from the boys assured him the afternoon wouldn't be a failure after all.
We motored over to the cinema and got tickets. Dad bought us whatever we wanted at the concession stand to further establish his expertise in averting a disastrous day.
After the movie got out, we found out the Sox lost to Cleveland 9-8. We were very happy about our good fortune at not having wasted a day on a Sox loss. Plus we got to see "the awesomest movie EVAH!"
I have seen Star Wars (and all its sequels) dozens of times since that day, but it will forever be a Fenway Flashback memory for me.
Fenway Flashback: Chief Brody
Today's flashback isn't about a specific game. It's about a recurring "character" in our Fenway escapades.
I had bleacher season tickets in section 40, row 13, seats 5 & 6. These seats are behind the Red Sox bullpen. The seats are on the aisle next to an entry ramp from the concession area beneath the stands. Since the ramp comes up behind the bullpen, curious fans would often stop, stand in the entry area and look at the bullpen. This would invariably block our view.
Except on Wednesday nights. Wednesdays brought a Boston cop (there are many on detail all over the park every night) named "Joe" to our section. We called him "Chief Brody" because he bore a resemblance to Roy Scheider who played Chief Brody in the JAWS movies. He would stand on the ramp out of the line of site for the seated fans. "Joe" was a Boston "Special Forces" motorcycle cop who was a Viet Nam vet, a 10th degree black belt and one bad dude. The guy looked like he could rip you apart.
But he kept the aisle clear! You couldn't stand there for more than 10 seconds without him moving you along. Sometimes he'd politely move people along and if they didn't comply he'd get a little more "persuasive." More than once I saw him wrestle belligerent drunks who did not move down the ramp and out of the park. I had a friend at a game once who got a little flip with him and was "escorted" out of the park. The guy reveled in this! He enjoyed goofing on the crazed drunks and he felt it was his personal duty to keep that ramp clear for safety reasons and for us fans who were obstructed by folks standing there. He'd often joke with us about how many drunks he bounced in a night, particularly when we had been imbibing to excess. I remember running into him once during the day in Boston-he said he had never seen me sober!
The guy has to be retired by now-he often spoke of retirement when he was chatting with us. I always liked Wednesday nights because the line of sight was rarely obstructed and we got to see a bad ass cop in action!
Battle for the Planet of the Fenway Flashback
On October 6, 2001, I had the honor of attending Cal Ripkin's final game at Fenway Park with my son. While there wasn't some of the insanity that sometimes accompanies me and my trips to Fenway, it was a memorable night nonetheless.
It was the final game of the season and I had purchased 5 games from a friend with season tickets. Every year this guy sends out a list of 25-30 games he's making available for purchase before the season starts. This means he sells the tickets for games he doesn't want.
I always like going to opening day and the last game of the season. Opening Day is fun because its Opening Day! The final game can be fun too-they always give away a car (I'll win one of these years), the game could have playoff implications, it could be a farewell game for a player headed to free agency or something else cool could happen, like Cal Ripkin's Fenway finale.
Ripkin announced his retirement after the season began, and my friend started needling me about taking him to the game. I told him I was taking my son.
At the game some of the season ticket regulars got on my friend for giving up such an historic ticket. My son had a blast. It was his 7th Birthday celebration so he got a bunch of "ballpark stuff" (foam finger, cap, baseball etc) courtesy of dad.
At the end of the game he tried to get Cal's autograph, but the push of the crowd was too much for such a small kid and he came away empty handed. I made a framed collage of the ticket stubs, a picture of us at the park and the commemorative program for him later. He still talks about the game now and again. It's one of his early Fenway memories and destined to be one of his Fenway Flashbacks someday.
Return of the Fenway Flashback
I remember one time my buddy and I that I shared the bleacher seats with scored some box seats at Fenway on the third base side. We were in the second row, right behind the visiting on deck circle. Most of the seats in this section were season ticket holders and we were viewed as crazy, drunken interlopers from the bleachers!
The Sox were playing the Angels and Roger Clemens was pitching. This was Tim Salmon's rookie year and he was off to a good start as a highly touted hitter. (Salmon went on to glory with the Angels in the 2002 World Series). Naturally, I decided to bust his balls. Every time he came to bat, I yelled in a booming, Rasta man accented voice "HEY SAL-MON, SOMETHING'S FISHY IN THE STRIKE ZONE!" or some other similar nonsense.
He came up in the first with one out and a man on first. I was yelling at him do us a favor "HEY SAL-MON, GIVE US THE DOUBLE PLAY SO WE CAN GO FISHING!" He complied.
He booted a Mo Vaughn line drive in the second so I just kept busting his balls. Every time he came into view. Even the stodgy season ticket holders started to get into it. When he came up in the 4th, the guy next to me said "Get on him again."
I did. SAL-MON struck out.
I stayed on him and he grounded weakly to second his next time up.
I grew even more merciless and he struck out again to start the ninth.
The Sox won 3-1.
They won again the next day, but SAL-MON went 1 for 1 with a walk and a sacrifice fly for 2 RBI. I guess he hits better without a lunatic future hot dog man screaming nonsensical abuse at him in a Jamaican accent!
Another Fenway Flashback
Before game 1 of the 1986 playoffs, I was standing in front of the ticket office at Fenway Park waiting for my brother. I was just watching the crowd and I noticed Steven King (the author) walking up and down Yawkey Way.
There was a guy standing across the street with a sign that said "I've been a Red Sox Fan Since: (followed by a list of tidbits which indicated he'd been a Sox fan for a long time) AND I NEED A TICKET!!" The guy really wanted to get into the game.
I watched Stephen King walk up to him and they started talking. Stephen King reached into his pocket, pulled out a ticket, and gave it to the sign guy. This guy went NUTS. He started whooping and hollering and he ran down the street screaming "I GOT A TICKET!! WOOOHOOO!"
He seemed pretty happy.
Now I'd seen Stephen King speak at UMASS and I actually met and spoke with him briefly, so I wasn't intimidated or anything. I walked over to him and said "that was a nice thing you did."
"Thanks."
"You know, if you need a ticket, I'll trade you mine for the rights to your next book."
He smiled, then immediately went deadpan and said "Yeah, sure pal." Then he chuckled and said "enjoy the game."
I don't know what ever happened to the sign guy, but Stephen King went on to make about eight gazillion more dollars after that night!
Fenway Flashback
The American League Division Series begins today with the Red Sox facing the Angels at Fenway Park. I had the chance to get to Fenway this past Sunday and it has changed quite a bit over the years. They've opened up more space at the ballpark and cleaned things up quite a bit. The grandstand seats are still way too small for me though. I get indents in my knee caps because I'm too tall for the seats. Anyone over five feet five inches tall is too tall for those seats.
We sat one section over from our old season tickets. For 12 years our family had section 29, row four, seats 5,6 7 & 8. I also shared an interest with a friend in a pair of bleacher seats in section 40, row 13 seats 5 & 6. I haven't had season tickets since the mid nineties but I always manage to get to Fenway once or twice a year.
Back in the season ticket days, I was ALWAYS at the ballpark. I worked in the city and went to almost every weeknight game-sometimes in the grandstands, sometimes in the bleachers. A common denominator was beer. I got to know all the beer vendors in both sections. They'd let us season ticket holders cut the line and take six beers if we wanted them(the "limit" was and still is, two). All we had to do was tip them! It was worth a few extra bucks to not have to wait in line and make fewer trips.
At last Sunday's game, I ran into one of my favorite beer gals from back in the day. She was still slinging suds and she was just as cute as ever. She remembered me and even remembered what section my seats were in! I asked if she could still send me off with six beers and let me cut the line and, alas, she could not.
"The rules are still the same," she explained, "they just enforce them now!"
I stood chatting with her as she served more customers and I told her about Game 5 in 1986. I was at the game with my mom, brother and uncle (dad was traveling and missed that game). I was the designated beer runner since I could cut the line and get six beers. Nobody (including me) wanted to miss a minute of the game (of course we still wanted the beer) so I used my "connections" to make quick beer runs. I got to the very long line, made eye contact with "John," the beer guy and he waved me to the front where a box 'o beers (six of them) were being freshly poured.
A woman at the front of the line hollered "hey, how come he can cut?!"
John barked back at her, "He's a season ticket holder and he TIPS!!"
I thanked John, paid him and tipped him and turned to leave with my beers. Standing at the end of the line was Dick "The Monster" Radatz, a former Sox reliever from the mid 1960's who was one of the game's original "closers."
I went up to him, handed him a beer and said "You don't have to wait in line, Mohnstah."
He thanked me, took the beer and headed back to his seat, which ended up being across the aisle from mine. He signed my "K" poster and I ran to get beers for him for the rest of the game, he even bought a couple of rounds. The Monster could definitely put the beers away!
I ran into "John" and his wife in the mid 1990's at the Cask and Flagon (a bar across the street from Fenway) and I bought them a beer as thanks for hooking me up all those times!
The beer gal got a kick out of the story, she didn't even make me wait for the next one!
