Liverpool is coming ... and I probably won't be going

Thanks to Mrs. Last Honest Sport, I already knew Liverpool was playing a preseason game at Yankee Stadium this summer, and the news came today that the Reds would be at Fenway Park as well.

Count me in, right? After all, it's ... Yankee Stadium ... and Fenway is just 15 miles from where I live. But while I reserve the right to change my mind, based on my experience at Fenway two years ago, I doubt I'll be going.

When Liverpool came to Fenway in 2012, it was not long after Euro 2012 and right before the Olympics, which meant no Steven Gerrard, no Luis Suarez and no most of the Liverpool regulars. Raheem Sterling played, although at the time he was more of a prospect and less the budding star he is now, as did Jonjo Shelvey, Joe Cole and Charlie Adam. Not exactly a ton of star power there.

I'm assuming that because of the World Cup this year, that probably means at a minimum no Gerrard, no Suarez and no Daniel Sturridge, and perhaps no Glen Johnson, Jordan Henderson or Sterling. In other words, no most of the people I'd want to see.

Plus, I'm hoping to see Liverpool for real someday.

They did do a good job trying to replicate the Anfield experience at Fenway.

What you don't see is the pole I was sitting behind.

The experience of being there

The other night, my friend Pizz wrote this on Facebook:

"The emotional connection man has to sport is just one of those things. It's the reason why, every time I go to Fenway Park I feel like a six-year-old seeing the Green Monster for the first time. And it's the reason why Adam Richman takes a moment away from eating 100 oz cheeseburgers and visiting his favorite English club and tears up.

I'm building up a knowledge and love of Everton and someday when I make my way (to) Liverpool, I'll probably have the same US in the UK moment."

I went to Yankee Stadium for the first time when I was 8 years old. I wish I could remember how I felt when I walked into the ballpark, but I can't. I do remember it was a bus trip, that we sat in the upper deck, that Doug Bird pitched for the Yankees, that a Royals player hit a home run off the foul pole (based on this box score, which I think is the right one, it would have been Clint Hurdle) and most importantly, Reggie Jackson hit one out.

I've seen a lot of sporting venues since then, mostly for games, but also on tours or walking through whatever open doors happened to present themselves, including the time I took a left turn and found myself on the darkened court at Cameron Indoor Stadium. The moment that always strikes me is when I step inside the field, court or racetrack, and the scene opens up in front of me.

It's the new Yankee Stadium, and I'm a lot older.

 

 

My first (and so far, only) time at Camden Yards. I was in awe. It was everything I was told it would be, and more.

Yet I find the stronger connections are when I can attach a place to something in particular, like when Mrs. Last Honest and I visited Lake Placid not quite two months ago. The connection isn't always a magical one, however, like realizing the Vancouver Olympic speed skating oval was in the back of a business park or the ice skating arena was tucked between a residential neighborhood and an amusement park.

There's probably a good reason why NBC stuck to indoor shots when they cut to figure skating.

But I find the strongest connection with objects; they bring what I saw, listened to or read about to life. I've lost the picture to various computer changes, but it was amazing to see the actual car that Dale Earnhardt won the 1998 Daytona 500 with at the Richard Childress Racing museum. I watched that race on television, barely able to sit the last few laps until he came to the final caution and I knew he would finally win the race.

It's the reason why I'm such a geek for the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. It's baseball history, right there, including the Dave Righetti no-hitter from July 4, 1983, that I was listening to on the radio and left to do something else, even though I knew he was throwing a no-hitter. (What can I say? Sometimes I'm an idiot.)

I still kick myself for leaving to this day.

Pizz is looking forward to going to Liverpool someday to see Goodison Park, although I, of course, would have him see Anfield on the proper, red side of Merseyside (something I'd like to do myself someday). Of places I haven't seen other than Anfield, the first three that come to mind that I'd like to see from the inside are the Rose Bowl, the Los Angeles Coliseum and Madison Square Garden.

But one thing about sports is that no matter the venue, no matter the time, no matter the event, something can happen that creates a memory for a lifetime, a permanent connection, when you least expect it.

A Yankee fan's night at Fenway Park

Tuesday night, Mrs. Last Honest and I decided to buy tickets to last night's game between the Yankees and Red Sox at Fenway Park. We hopped on StubHub and checked out various options before deciding on a pair of grandstand tickets for $27 each.

If you don't understand what that last paragraph says about the state of the Red Sox, let me break it down:
1. We decided we wanted to go to a game at Fenway Park two days before the game.
2. A game between the Yankees and the Red Sox.
3. There were multiple people wanted to get rid of their tickets for a Yankees/Red Sox game.
4. We were able to buy tickets for $27 each, less than half of what we paid to see Liverpool and AS Roma play an exhibition soccer match for seats that were behind a pole.

When you're sitting behind a pole, you're either watching at this angle...

... or this one.

Speaking of poles, in 2012, are there not engineering and architectural minds who can figure out how to support the upper levels of Fenway Park without needing thick poles? My camera batteries were all dead, so I can't show you exactly where we were last night, but our pole was behind the pitcher's mound, so slow rollers to third were hidden, but they weren't bad.

We had previously seen the Yankees and Red Sox in early 2004, and while next to nothing offends me, it was a bad enough environment that when a co-worker suggested to me that he wanted to take his kids to see the Yankees and Red Sox, I advised against it.

But last night showed that Red Sox fans have lost the will to live. Not only was there a lack of T-shirts spelling out in considerable detail the ways in which Yankees players engage in certain same-sex acts, the crowd was only close to a sellout (as opposed to those newfangled Fenway "sellouts" that show the hit fall fashion accessory in Boston is dressing like an empty seat) because of all the Yankees fans.

It was sort of like Baltimore in the days when Red Sox fans used to brag about taking over the ballpark (something Yankees fans did, too). Congratulations Fenway Park, you're now Yankee Stadium North.

Of course, the "greatest fans in the world" are barely showing up and completely disinterested because their team is so bad. One person tried to start a "Yankees suck" chant last night, but all it took was a couple calls of "Scoreboard!" (one by a guy who looks a lot like the guy writing this post) to put a stop to it.

Then, in the middle of the eighth inning, it happened, the nightly invocation of that which RUINED EVERYTHING ...



For those of you having trouble hearing it, it's Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline," and there are honestly people around these parts who think this is a part of the problem. And just so you know, the guy starting the conversation is the best sports radio host in Boston (Michael Felger), and that guy on the right is only one of the best sportswriters anyone has ever seen, some dude named Ryan.



The hit parade also included Jarrod Saltalamacchia's use of "Rock Me Amadeus" as his walk-up music, which is awesome even though Saltalamacchia kind of sucks.

Then in the ninth inning came one of the greatest riffs of all time ... until they start singing.

As for the game, the Yankees won 2-0. Phil Hughes was dealing, Rafael Soriano untucked, and I went home happy.