Deja Vu All Over Again
Here we have a case of art imitating life...
The Savior of Fenway
Over the course of the final two games of the American League Championship Series between the Boston Red Sox and their bitter rival, the Yankees, a Quincy bar bursts at its seams with the anxiety experienced by three friends who live every moment in hopes of a Red Sox victory...
This sounds eerily familiar.
UPDATE:
I'm thinking that I really need to go see this. The playwright, Brendon Bates, seems to get it.
I love Red Sox fans. I love them because they embody the definition of being a diehard. A diehard fan does not remember Buckner when he hears the number 1986; he remembers Henderson. A diehard does not remember Bucky Dent; he remembers Fisk. He does not remember Wakefield in the eleventh inning of Game Seven; he remembers Derek Lowe in the bottom of the ninth against the A’s. Diehards do not follow one season after another because they are “masochistic“. They watch one long season after another because they feel the magic that emanates from the organization itself, from the mystique of Fenway, and they are moved by the fire they see burning within the eyes of Nomar, Dewey Evans, Bruce Hurst, Yaz, Williams, Pedro, Boggs, Varitek, among others. I have never experienced such loyalty, such love for an organization, in any other city.
Words cannot describe how excited I am to bring this show to Boston. I wrote this play for the diehards. The story, the language, the characters, the relationships, the intensity was born out of our community. There is no better place to present it. Although The Savior of Fenway was a huge success in New York City, where Yankee fans run wild like stray dogs, I am eager to share my passion with an audience that truly understands what it means to be a fan.
The Savior of Fenway
Over the course of the final two games of the American League Championship Series between the Boston Red Sox and their bitter rival, the Yankees, a Quincy bar bursts at its seams with the anxiety experienced by three friends who live every moment in hopes of a Red Sox victory...
This sounds eerily familiar.
UPDATE:
I'm thinking that I really need to go see this. The playwright, Brendon Bates, seems to get it.
I love Red Sox fans. I love them because they embody the definition of being a diehard. A diehard fan does not remember Buckner when he hears the number 1986; he remembers Henderson. A diehard does not remember Bucky Dent; he remembers Fisk. He does not remember Wakefield in the eleventh inning of Game Seven; he remembers Derek Lowe in the bottom of the ninth against the A’s. Diehards do not follow one season after another because they are “masochistic“. They watch one long season after another because they feel the magic that emanates from the organization itself, from the mystique of Fenway, and they are moved by the fire they see burning within the eyes of Nomar, Dewey Evans, Bruce Hurst, Yaz, Williams, Pedro, Boggs, Varitek, among others. I have never experienced such loyalty, such love for an organization, in any other city.
Words cannot describe how excited I am to bring this show to Boston. I wrote this play for the diehards. The story, the language, the characters, the relationships, the intensity was born out of our community. There is no better place to present it. Although The Savior of Fenway was a huge success in New York City, where Yankee fans run wild like stray dogs, I am eager to share my passion with an audience that truly understands what it means to be a fan.
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