I was born in Boston. My childhood, teenage years, and college career were spent within the confines of New England. My heart belonged to the Celtics and Red Sox and these sports allegiances were never challenged by my decades of living in New York or anywhere else in the world.
When the Red Sox came back to defeat the Yankees in 2004, I was sitting in a bar in Thailand, cheering on my team on the other side of the world. The other farangs at the bar were finishing off a night of go-go bars. They tried to change the channel. I was sober and they were drunk. I got my way and celebrated the ending of the Curse of the Bambino by buying everyone at the bar a drink. After my explanation of the history of the red Sox, we toasted the long-awaited victory. Few of them cared, although the Brits understood the pain, because England hasn't won anything in soccer since 1960.
Four years later my Thai wife Mam announced that she was pregnant with a boy and I consulted my overseas friends for a name. Jesse James Smith sounded good, until someone said that the Missouri outlaw had owned slaves. Malcolm X Smith was a little too heavy a name to carry through his life. My favorite runner as a teenager had been Tommie Smith. He had raised his fist on the medal podium at the 1968 Summer Olympics in Mexico City, but Tommie Smith Smith was too much Smith.
"What about Fenway?" suggested Shannon Greer. He's a New York fan. We are good friends.
"Fenway Smith." I liked it and googled Fenway Smith. None showed up on the search for Smith, Jones, Williams, Lee, Sanchez, Miller, or Martin. I explained the origins of the name to Mam.
"Can not name your son Fenway Park Smith."
"Why not?"
"Everyone think he Korean not Thai with name Park."
She was right and we have a loving son Fenway.
His middle name is Superstar.
I had to leave Thailand four years ago.
Now I travel back and forth every 3-4 months. Fenway is always in my mind as are the rest of my children; Fluke, Noi, and Angie. My younger sister disapproved of naming my son 'Fenway'.
She's a lawyer. They have strong opinions.
"You'll see why it's stupid."
She's has a funny way of being right, but Fenway has many names; Wey-wey, One-way, and always Superstar.
Now I live in Brooklyn. It's more Mets territory than Yankee land. My friends at Frank's Lounge appreciate the name and on many occasions I proudly tell people, "My son's name is Fenway."
I'm still a Red Sox fan, even if they sucked this season under fucking Bobby V and collapsed like the World Trade Towers last September.
Last week I bought a Red Sox t-shirt for Fenway.
back to my brownstone and saw a young man with a small dog. He was wearing a Red Sox cap. We spoke about our faith and I asked him, "What's your dog's name?"
"Fenway."
I didn't tell him about my son, but several days later I ran into another young Red Sox fan with a dog. Once again the mutt's name was Fenway and I understood the reason that parents don't name their kids 'Fenway' was that young men name their dogs after the Bosox park.
But I'm not a young man.
My father took me to see the KC As at Fenway in 1961. I sat on the steps of the 3rd base line for the 1975 World Series. 2004 I was halfway around the world and I'm Red Sox fan to the core and my son is Fenway Superstar Smith.
One day I'll take him to the temple and that is written in the stars.
No comments:
Post a Comment