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Commentary
I’ve been a Red Sox season ticket holder for more than 30 years. Should I stay or should I go?
I’ve been a Red Sox season ticket holder for more than 30 years, sharing two lower grandstand seats on the third base side with a longtime friend, Bob Purdy. Every year, we meet up at one of our favorite bars in December, sip martinis and write our checks for the games. Then, we’d meet again in March — same bar, same martinis — to divvy up the tickets on our weekday plan, generally 48 games.
Not so, this year. We met up at the same bar and drank the same martinis, but we wrestled with the decision: Do we pony up $5,606 once again? Or do we say goodbye to something we once loved very much, but less so now?
“My heart says yes,” Bob said a couple of weeks ago, “but the analytical part of my brain says no.” I concurred. We could both argue either side of the should-I-stay-or-should-I-go dilemma. But when the team is doing badly, as has been the case recently, trudging into games can feel more obligatory than pleasurable. Would coughing up the cash for the 2024 season be a sure sign of masochism?
This epic indecision comes on the heels of three last-place Eastern Division finishes in the last four years. And this has been the winter of the Red Sox Nation’s discontent. There’s also the continuing, simmering bad blood between fans and ownership: The team hasn’t been able to hold on to its franchise stars, Mookie Betts and Xander Bogaerts and they let Nathan Eovaldi land in Texas.
I’m in a couple of Red Sox Facebook groups and the other day, John L. Rossi posted: “I honestly think that baseball itself, not just the Red Sox, has worked hard to become irrelevant.” He cites exorbitant ticket prices — the Red Sox’ are the most expensive in Major League Baseball — which “keep working families from building a relationship with the team,” and the ownership “seemingly taking the fan base for granted.”
Last week, Craig Breslow, the Sox Chief Baseball Officer admitted to what every Red Sox fan was thinking: The team promised substantial upgrades and failed to deliver. Sox President Sam Kennedy said pretty much the same at the Winter Weekend gathering in Springfield last weekend.
So, yes, we are concerned about the unwillingness or inability of Red Sox management and ownership to sign any of the A-level talent on the free-agent market, or make significant trades to render the team at least competitive. There’s owner John Henry’s apparent reluctance to spend big money. There’s the nagging thought that the Red Sox are merely a (valuable) piece of Henry’s ever-expanding and profitable Fenway Sports Group portfolio. (Hello, Liverpool Football Club and Pittsburgh Penguins! And Boston Common Golf. And RFK Racing.)
“Although Boston has plenty of money to spend, it currently is projected to have the third-highest lowest payroll in the American League East,” wrote Patrick McEvoy on SI.com. “Plus, the Red Sox are rumored to be looking to cut salary rather than add.”
"Red Sox fans rip season ticket sales announcement as team fails to improve," ran the headline on another story on the BoSoxInjection website. "Red Sox fans are disgruntled to the point that many refuse to buy tickets. Some fans are calling for a boycott of Fenway Park, Red Sox merchandise, and all NESN advertisers," wrote Katie Manganelli.
As with every big elective purchase, you ask if your expenditure will match the anticipated pleasure or satisfaction: Is it a good value for the money? Would it be Go, Sox! or Sox, Begone.
The internal conflict: Great memories of games and certain seasons past versus deep doubt about this year and years to come. It’s very hard to weigh the value of memories and equally hard to predict if the future will resonate as it once did.
I flash back to the thrilling American League Championship Series comeback against the Yankees in 2004 and subsequent World Series win, breaking the spurious curse. The other World Series wins in 2007, 2013 and 2018 — three more titles than the Yankees have won this century! There was joy in watching Pedro Martinez, Dustin Pedroia, Koji Uehara, Manny Ramirez, Chris Sale (briefly), Xander Bogaerts (damn it!) and Mookie Betts (double damn it!).
There’s a lot of personal joy, too: I came of age with the Red Sox.
Fenway Park is not much more than a mile from home and it’s a lovely stroll down the banks of the Muddy River. It’s a pleasure to see games with friends. We spend a few hours away from everything else and have a chance to catch up. This, though, is somewhat tempered by the incessant and superfluous bells and whistles at America’s Most Beloved Ballpark® — the loud rock and rap music, that flashing lights that circle the park after Red Sox home runs.
So, how do you put a price on something you truly love(d)? And when does all the stuff you don’t love tip the scales?
I explained the dilemma to my friend, Peter Abraham, the MLB columnist for the Globe, where I once worked. “You are not the first person to send an email like this,” he wrote. “In the end, it comes down to what you value. Do you like getting out of the house, being outside, enjoying the company of whoever you're with and watching some ball or is that all for naught if they aren't a competitive team?”
Last Thursday, we made the call: We’re in for another year “despite the negatives,” as Bob put it in his mostly affirmative text. We were also able to find another friend, Doug Quintal, who gritted his teeth and decided to go in with us, creating a three-way split: 18 games each instead of 24. Somehow, that lessens both the financial burden and the emotional turmoil, and might mean fewer games in April. Still, I’m ready to start feeling buyer’s remorse at any moment.
“I’m going into this kicking and screaming,” Bob said, “but I can’t imagine a summer without the Red Sox.”
Are we suckers? Are we die-hard fans? Or are we a hopeless Boston-centric combination?
We made a decision, and the bank account is taking a hit. Yet, I can’t help but feel like I’m still sitting on the fence.
Go Sox?
