Old School Fenway

The Sports Brief is proud to offer you a special submission from reader and dear friend Brian Jalbert. Please don't forget to scroll down and enjoy our Week 7 NFL picks after this terrific read.

As I was sitting in my seat at Fenway last night for Game 5 of the ALCS, for most of the game, I had planned in my head what type of rant I was going to go on after the game was finally over, the series was finally over, and the season was over. I had a list of things I wanted to complain about, most of which had nothing to do with the Red Sox team, but more with the fans.

Scenario number 1: Two couples sat to our left trying to throw peanuts into each other's mouths from a distance of five feet away. This would be acceptable in a middle school cafeteria maybe, but completely unacceptable at a Red Sox playoff game. Especially in the fifth inning of a possible elimination game. And especially during pitches so I can't see the damn game! (I know I said they were to my left, but anyone that has been to Fenway before knows that if you're in the right field grandstands, section 8 to be exact, your whole body is turned to the left to see the game.

Scenario number 2: The professional camera man. Sitting behind me was a man with a camera so large that I thought it was an old school computer from the 80's. Anytime a big play happened (which wasn't often before 2 outs in the 7th), while most of us were cheering, this guy was busy taking pictures. It made absolutely no sense to me. Although after looking at some of the photos on his camera, it was pretty cool. But that's beside the point.

Scenario number 3: A two-run double puts the Rays up 7-0, the fair-weather fans start to leave the ballpark. This is a playoff game. Not only is it a playoff game, but it's a do-or-die playoff game. If they lose, that's it. How do you leave early? Isn't there a tiny 1% chance of you that thinks they could make the comeback? And if they do make this comeback, don't you want to say "I was there!" instead of saying "Well, we left in the top of the 7th because it was getting late."

And this is what Fenway has become my friends. It was making me sad right before my very eyes. I've been going to games for a while now. I've even emptied out my bank account when I was younger in order to go to a regular season game that Pedro was pitching in the middle of April. I also hold the record for most Sports Bars consumed in one game at 12, but that can be written about in another article. I remember the days of tie ball games in the 8th and hoping Brian Daubach would get a chance in the 9th because he "had a flare for the dramatic." I remember the days that place was loud, that place was the place to be. I never wanted to leave. Most of all, I remember going to game 4 of the 2004 ALCS and fans still holding out hope even though we were down 3-0 in the series to the Yankees, a team we NEVER beat. Now, Fenway had turned into something I was almost embarrassed of. My aunt, who admittedly is not a huge baseball fan, lives in Tampa. Around the 5th, she called me and asked why the crowd was so quiet. She told me we needed some of those cowbells that her fans in Tampa had. I calmly explained to her that in Boston, we always prided ourselves on never having to use cowbells or thunderstix because we made our own noise. And that's what had made Fenway so amazing over the years. It was still old school. The fans still had to show up and make the noise to become the 10th man on the field. Not anymore though. It seemed those days were gone and the "real fans" were far and few between. As that top of the 7th rolled on, I began to wonder if the old Fenway would ever come back. If the place would ever shake again the way it used to. If it would ever be so loud that you couldn't even hear the music playing after a big play or a big hit.

Then, something happened. Almost as if the 7-0 lead by the Rays weeded out those fair-weather fans. They had all left. Now, all that was left at Fenway was about 33,000 people who cared. About 33,000 people who knew they probably weren't going to win this game, but also knew there was a 1% chance that they did win the game and at no point did they want to miss it.

As Pedroia hit a single that stayed in the air for a good 3 hours to right, the place started to gain some life back. Maybe it was a mock cheer because we had cut the lead to 7-1, maybe it was the fact that Gabe Gross easily could have caught the ball, or maybe it was just pure excitement from the Fenway Faithful. Whatever it was, the place was damn loud for a 6 run ballgame. Just as we were settling back in, Papi comes up and puts one out of the park. And we're not talking about a home run that just cleared the wall, we're talking a good 20 rows back. All of a sudden, Fenway was back! The place was loud. People were jumping up and down all over again. It felt like it was a late 90's, early 2000's walk off game. They were down 7-4, but the place was just hoppin because everyone knew that they weren't out of this yet. Fenway was old school once again and it was LOUD! A four run 7th cuts the lead to 3 and Fenway was the place to be. At that moment, I was picturing a man in a business suit trying to get back into the stadium and laughing. Of course, the man behind us was still flashing his camera, and the couples to our left didn't seem to care much, but 99% of that stadium cared. And they cared a lot. As the game went on, we all know how it ended. J.D. Drew became a hero, Sox win, I ate at least 3 Fenway Franks, and the place went nuts. The place was literally shaking. I've never felt anything like it. My knee is swollen to the size of a hot air balloon today from jumping up and coming down awkwardly on it, but at no point last night did I care. Nobody cared. The Sox won. All our worries were behind us.

The whole experience made me feel good again. Made me proud to be a Boston fan again. As the security was kicking us out about 45 minutes after the game, we proceeded to high five the people around us and be on our way. And while I'm watching Games 6 and 7 over the weekend, I'm going to hear those cowbells and think to myself, I'm happy to have had Old School Fenway back, even if it was just for one night.

-Jalbert