The Dimensions

Seeing a hitter drive a pitch half-way up the "Green Monster" just to be held to a long single; watching a runner head for third while his ball bounces around in "the triangle"; seeing a player wrap a pitch around "Pesky's Pole" for a 305-foot home run... These are all experiences that can only be had at Fenway.

The Citgo Sign

Whether you're emerging from the T at Kenmore Square or driving in your car on Storrow Drive, that first view of the Citgo sign signals your proximity to Fenway. During the game, its blinking lights are as much a fixture as the Fenway Frank. When I lived outside New England, driving by a Citgo station always brought a smile to my face and reminded me of home.

It all began in 1940, when Cities Service erected a sign over their divisional offices building. The Citgo sign as we know it today was installed in 1965. When the sign's lights were turned off in 1979 to save energy, Sox fans rallied, asking that the sign be declared a Boston landmark. While it never achieved official landmark status (because the city of Boston would be financially responsible for maintaining it rather than the Citgo company), the public outcry was so great when Citgo tried to remove the sign a few years later, that the company agreed to leave it in place and turn the lights back on.

For all the facts and statistics, as well as info on the Keeper of the Sign, please visit Citgo's page on the Boston Sign.

The Hand-Operated Scoreboard

The Green Monster and its scoreboard are two of the most famous pieces of Fenway. When the scoreboard was added in 1934, it spoke of high technology, using colored lights to signal balls and strikes. But today, in the age of Jumbo-Tron scoreboards, the attraction at Fenway is that the line score is still posted by hand, inning by inning, as well as scores for the day's other American League games. The numerals are printed on steel, and the ones for runs and hits measure 16 x 16 inches, and weigh three pounds. The initials T.A.Y. and J.R.Y. are written in Morse code on the scoreboard, in memory of Tom A. and Jean R. Yawkey, former Red Sox owners.

In 1975, a camera was installed inside the wall for the first time. Later that year, in Game 6 of the World Series, this camera caught Carlton Fisk waving his extra-inning, game-winning home run fair. The only reason that image lives on (or so the legend goes): the cameraman was distracted by a large rat inside the wall, and briefly stopped following the flight of the ball... while the camera settled on Fisk.

The Red Seat

On June 9, 1946, Ted Williams hit a mammoth blast to right field, 502 feet from home plate. It traveled to Section 42, Row 37, Seat 21, where it landed on Joseph A. Boucher's straw hat. As Boucher later recalled, "They say it bounced a dozen rows higher, but after it hit my head, I was no longer interested." That Williams shot was the longest ever hit at Fenway, and the seat has been painted red to mark the spot.

I've seen the pictures and heard the stories, but knowing that the red seat is there provides a connection to the past. That's what makes this park so special. It's proof, to anyone who ever sat through a rain delay only to see a rookie pitcher get clobbered, or watched a pinch-hitting backup catcher whiff feebly with the bases loaded, that The Greatest Hitter Who Ever Lived played here, in my Fenway.