The Green Monster's Ball

If walls could talk, they'd have a tale to tell. When it comes to me, well, expect that voice to have a thick Boston accent. They call me the Green Monster, even though I wasn't always green. I was born in 1912; yeah, I know, I don't look a day over 90, right? I was merely a magnet for ads for 35 years, and then, somebody decided to take down the ads and paint me green. "This wouldn't work," I thought. Yet to this very day...

I've seen a lot over the decades. When I was born as part of Fenway Park, the "Sawx" were a dynasty. Hell, they were kickin' ass. Then Babe Ruth got sold. Dammit, I loved Babe. Now I had to hate him. Sold to the New York Yankees. They became a damn juggernaut. They couldn't stop winnin'! As for the Sawx, well, we were the opposite.

The pennants came, though. We were always close, but couldn't get over the hump. The word "curse" started goin' around. As the decades passed, I became more and more of an attraction, as well as an attraction for every line drive hit towards me. Nothin' but doubles. Doubles, doubles, doubles. Our doubles never hurt me. Even the opponents' doubles didn't hurt. As for the ones from those pinstripe clowns from The Bronx? All they did was piss me off.

Very few homers were hit off me, but there's one that still makes me turn red. October 2, 1978. I don't forget dates anyway, but this one?! Oh boy. Bad enough we let that 13 1/2 game division lead go to piss. But at least we were winning this tiebreaker, though. Then he had to come up. Hit that shot right over me.

Bucky Fuckin' Dent.

I'd have to wait another eight years for a chance. Another date that stays with me: October 25, 1986. The curse was goin' to be over...finally! Then that ball went between Buckner's legs. Lost the game. Lost Game 7. Sixty-eight years. There was anger here. Me? I was just too resigned. It didn't matter that it didn't happen in front of me, I just didn't care. The rest of the eighties and nineties did even more to increase my apathy. Then 2003 happened, and here we were, playin' for the pennant, and against those damn Yankees. I saw Pedro and Zimmer go at it in 3. It went to 7 because of course it did.

I wouldn't witness this live, but I would see the World Series logo being painted on, because we were up 4-0. Four to nothin'! Over the New York Yankees! I didn't wanna believe, I had seen too much heartbreak, and when Jason Giambi hit those two solos...

"Son of a bitch, here we go again..."

Then David Ortiz came through!

"Thank you Papi, you magnificent bastard!!!"

I was believin' again, but a funny feeling came over me. That same feeling I've had for 85 years now. The other shoe was droppin'. Three Yankees scorin' in the eighth. We went to extras because Mo Rivera was on the mound. Wakefield on the mound in the eleventh facin' Aaron Boone. Aaron Boone. Who's this guy?! I would find out the hard way. A walk-off shot in the bottom of the inning. Goodbye, World Series logo.

Aaron Fuckin' Boone.

"There's always next year...," I thought glumly.

I never thought I'd be right.

I knew we'd be down 3-0 against the Yankees. Then Roberts steals that base, and then Papi wins it. So we won't get swept. Then we win Game Five. But still, I would watch the Sawx leave for New York, as they would still need to win Six and Seven. We won Six, but I wasn't convinced.

"It won't happen," I thought. "We're not winnin' 7."

10-3. Ten to three. In the Bronx! I hated that it didn't happen here, but I didn't care. I'd see that World Series logo up close!

It would not be all I would see.

Two victories here, and then they went off to St. Louis. I would bear witness to one hell of a watch party for Game Four, and when Mientkiewicz got that final out, it was wicked awesome! It was over. We won the big one. 86 years of sufferin' gone! Kaput! It would be another nine years until I would bear witness to a Sawx championship win up close, but 2004 is so special to me, even though I saw it on a monitor. As my 112th season approaches, I still remember 2004 and the three other championships that followed. If this wall could talk on the evening of October 27, 2004, it would be cheerin' loudly, but if I could actually cry, I'd be covered in tears.

* * *

Author's Note

Yes, I am a New York Yankees fan. Yes, this story is about the Green Monster. I may hate the Boston Red Sox, but one thing I've known for years, Fenway Park's Green Monster is just an absolutely epic site to see. I want to thank you for reading my story, and if you like it, click the heart and subscribe button, and feel free to comment below!