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FENWAY for the SOUL
November 24, 2011
IF YOU are lucky enough to have visited Fenway Park—whether once, twice or dozens of times—then you will always carry it with you, for Fenway is a moveable feast. O.K., so that's not quite what Hemingway wrote (he mused about the Left Bank, not the leftfield wall), but it is true, and especially so for the SI writers who over the following pages recall the park in many guises: on hot days and snowy ones, in times of triumph and defeat, as a place for music, merriment, even love. As these recollections from childhood and adulthood show, no one leaves Fenway without taking something away
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November 24, 2011

Fenway For The Soul

IF YOU are lucky enough to have visited Fenway Park—whether once, twice or dozens of times—then you will always carry it with you, for Fenway is a moveable feast. O.K., so that's not quite what Hemingway wrote (he mused about the Left Bank, not the leftfield wall), but it is true, and especially so for the SI writers who over the following pages recall the park in many guises: on hot days and snowy ones, in times of triumph and defeat, as a place for music, merriment, even love. As these recollections from childhood and adulthood show, no one leaves Fenway without taking something away

TIANT was RELIEVED. And SO WAS I

By Roy Blount

From SPORTS ILLUSTRATED, July 19, 1993

GENERALLY, I ROOT FOR THE STORY. I ROOTED AGAINST IT, THOUGH, AT THE GREATEST game I ever saw: the sixth game of the 1975 World Series, Boston Red Sox versus Cincinnati Reds, Oct. 21 at sold-out Fenway Park. Therein hangs a tale. I had recently left the staff of SI to become what I'd always wanted to be, a freelance writer. I was included in the magazine's Series coverage on a standby basis. In Game 1 at Fenway, Boston starter Luis Tiant, with his many wondrous windups, shut out the Reds 6--0. My assignment was to be ready to do a feature on Tiant in case he turned out to be the star of the whole Series.

Sportswriters tend to have a soft spot for the Red Sox, but I never liked being in their clubhouse. They were a dour lot. Tiant, however, was the exception, the only downright jovial Fenway denizen (if not the only Cuban Bostonian) in living memory. I had once watched him give an interview while he smoked a cigar in the shower.

I had the phone number of Tiant's father-in-law, who as I recall was Portuguese; and when I'd asked the Reds' Pete Rose if he had any good Tiant stories, he winked and said, "Oh, yeah." So I figured I was in pretty good shape if I had to do a story. I was freshly self-employed, and I had free tickets to the Series: I was in a mood to coast.

Tiant came back on three days' rest to pitch a complete-game victory in Game 4 at Riverfront Stadium, delivering 163 pitches in 100 ways. The Reds won the fifth game, so the Sox went back to Boston behind three games to two. After the travel day it rained. Three days straight. So now Tiant was announced as the sixth-game starter. If he won again, he could be the MVP no matter what happened in Game 7. I called the father-in-law a couple of times. Nobody was home. I buttonholed Rose, and he said, vaguely, "Oh, uh, yeah, catch you later."

Still, it did not dawn on me until about the fourth inning, with the Sox ahead 3--0 and Tiant sailing along, that this could be one of the great alltime Series stories and I didn't have anything. I looked at my notes. "You the ugliest Hawaiian I ever saw," I had heard Tiant saying to, I believe, teammate Cecil Cooper. What in the world, when you thought about it, did that mean?

I was sitting in the rightfield bleachers, three rows up. Here I was, embarking on my freelance career, and I felt the way you feel in that nightmare about suddenly facing a final exam in a class you haven't attended all semester.

"'You the ugliest Hawaiian I ever saw,' quipped Luis Tiant, the Red-killer (whose father-in-law, unavailable for comment, is Portuguese), as he...."

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