Traditions

Baseball is a game full of traditions. There’s the ceremonial first pitch, where anyone from celebrities to past big-leaguers to average, everyday citizens can throw out the first pitch of a game. There’s the “seventh inning stretch” where fans sing along to “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” Beer, hot dogs, peanuts, and popcorn are “traditional” baseball food, whether eaten at a stadium, at a bar, or in the comfort of our own homes. Champagne (or ginger ale, in some cases) is sprayed after clinching a division, divisional series, championship series, or World Series.

The Red Sox have their own traditions as well, like singing “Sweet Caroline” during the eighth inning or playing “Dirty Water” after a home win. There’s a long-standing tradition of players from opposing teams to sign their names inside The Green Monster the first time they visit Fenway Park. There are hundred’s of signatures from fans on Pesky’s Pole.

Individual players also have their own traditions, or routines. Pedroia used to play cribbage with Francona before every game, and between every pitch while he’s bathing, he adjusts his batting gloves and “stretches his face” (sorry, don’t know how else to explain that, but if you’ve seen him bat, you know what I’m talking about). Ortiz claps his hands together before he bats as well.

I have my own traditions as well when it comes to baseball. For example, when “Fever Pitch” came out in 2005, there was a sneak peek at our local movie theater the weekend before its release, and it also happened to be my dad’s birthday that day. About ten or twelve members of my family went and watched that movie together, and I’m pretty sure we all wore Red Sox apparel to it. Every year since, I have made it a tradition of watching “Fever Pitch” the weekend prior to Opening Day (the official opening day, not the opening series in Japan). So, I’m sure I will be watching “Fever Pitch” at some point this weekend.

As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, I own many Red Sox player t-shirts. The past few years on Opening Day, I’ve made it a tradition to wear the player t-shirt of the Opening Day pitcher. Last year (and this year), I wore Lester. Before that, I wore Beckett. I even have a tradition of putting a Red Sox jersey on my dog for Opening Day.

Traditions may just be fun, little antidotes that add to the great game of baseball, but they also make more fun. For every fan who complains about “Sweet Caroline” being played during Red Sox games, there’s five more standing and singing along to it. I think we need to embrace our traditions; there’s a reason baseball has been around so long.