Okay, I've been to Fenway maybe 25-30 times, and I agree with them. Is that okay? How many times do you have to have gone there before you are allowed to have an opinion? How many times do you really need to go to a place to get the feel of it?
Every single time I go to Fenway, I am in awe. I never complain about the seats because every five minutes I am jumping out of them to cheer for the Red Sox, which is why I am there in the first place.
Every year I see more and more signs that my own generation, and even those a little older than I am, are showing less and less concern for preserving the history of our country if it interferes with comfort or convenience. Fenway is the embodiment of Boston's history. Everything around it changes, but it has been in the same spot, serving the same purpose, for an entire century.
When I go into Fenway park, I can almost imagine that I can see history playing out around me. It's, for lack of a better term, magical. I've been to the new Yankee Stadium, I've been to PNC park, and I've been to Comerica. They are nice stadiums, comfortable, enjoyable to watch a game in. But you know what was missing? The feel of baseball. Every one of them just felt like a place that the team was using that day, like a football field that's been recovered with dirt to play baseball on while the football season is over.
At Fenway park, you look around, you see the Green Monster sticking out no matter which part of the stadium you are in, you see Pesky's pole, and if you're close enough to it, the hundreds of names of visiting fans scrawled on it in Sharpie, and you close your eyes and you can feel the vibration of every single stomping foot, every single encouraging chant, every word coming over the PA system, and when you see all of that, feel all of that at once, there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that this is a field of baseball, there is absolutely nothing else you can mistake it for.
I wouldn't install an elevator on the face of Mt. Rushmore, I wouldn't put ten-foot security fences along the edge of the Grand Canyon, I wouldn't fix the crack in the Liberty Bell, and I sure as hell wouldn't tear down a piece of the soul of every Red Sox fan in the history of baseball just to replace it with something that has bigger cupholders.