Melvin Maddocks' article on Fenway Park (All You Ever Wanted in a Ball Park—and Less, Sept. 15) captured the spirit of Boston's old ball yard with such uncanny accuracy that I am still a bit awestruck. His appreciation for the park's simple design and his insight into the Jekyll-Hyde disposition of Fenway's faithful suggest that Maddocks has been a frequent visitor to Tom Yawkey's "toy." Certainly, nothing less than an invitation to view a game or two from Yawkey's private box would now be appropriate, especially during the World Series.
PETER J. KAPLAN
Pity the baseball fan who never gets to see a game in Fenway Park. I waited a dozen years for the chance and finally got it in 1973. My wife and I planned our honeymoon around an Indians trip to Boston and, for me, it was the highlight of the vacation—uh, aside from my wife. I'm not a Red Sox fan, but I sure am a Fenway fan.
As a kid I frequented Fenway Park as often as my father would take me. We always sat out in the left-field stands. I remember watching Ted Williams run back to catch a long fly in the corner and seeing my hero totally disappear from sight. I remember watching Frank Sullivan pitch, but having to peek around a pole to see if the batter swung.
According to Melvin Maddocks, "There are simply no bad seats." When did he ever go to Fenway and where did he sit? Last weekend I saw the Red Sox on TV and some things strangely resembling those nasty old poles were still there. Maybe it was only a mirage. Then again, maybe the Red Sox are only a mirage.
DAVID J. FOURNIER
I particularly enjoyed the description of the booing and mock cheering that Boston fans indulge in. The topper came this year when Gorman Thomas of the Brewers broke his consecutive strikeout record by hitting into a double play. When Thomas returned to his position in center field, he received a standing ovation from the bleacher crowd. Where else could such a thing happen but in cozy Fenway?
KING OF THE RING
I couldn't agree more with your Sept. 15 cover story ("There Ain't No Others Like Me"). Don King is boxing's new Barnum. The only difference I see is that instead or one sucker being born every minute, it would appear that there are two or three. It's enough to keep me from spending my good money to see Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier fight.
West Hempstead, N.Y.
While the "quintessential" Don King comes across like a street-corner jive artist, I can only applaud the fact that he is making more money for Muhammad Ali.
A. C. Louis
Now that you've written Don King's life story, how about writing Muhammad Ali's? I suggest you title it, How to Succeed in Turning the Sport of Boxing into a One-Ring Circus Without Really Giving a Damn.
I've never approved of Muhammad Ali's tactics outside of the ring, but I can say one thing for him: over the years he has helped keep alive a sport that has been sagging, and maybe in the end that's what counts.
MICHAEL P. MARCHAND
IVY OR BIG TEN
We at Michigan State University very much appreciate the attention given our football team in advance of the 1975 season (College Football '75, Sept. 8), but in his article about Ivy League football George Plimpton made a couple of factual fumbles that we Spartan fans would like to recover.