I am going to have no voice today. But I guess three hours of Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band will do that to you, especially when they are playing at Fenway Park.
I went to the show, got in the press box without media credentials, almost touched Peter Wolf, ate free food and saw the concert of a lifetime.
Last night marked the third time in less than a year I had seen Bruce, but by no means am I a diehard Springsteen fan. I don’t even know all the words to ‘Badlands’ or ‘Rosalita’ two songs he played last night but I, like the other 36,000 plus in attendance, left the concert more than satisfied. That was $84 well spent.
The folks at Fenway did it right, welcoming Bruce with open arms and making Boston truly ‘Boss Town.’ The manual left field scoreboard on the Green Monster read Bruce Springsteen in white letters, while the infield grass was watered to say Bruce from third to first over the mound, with musical notes underneath.
Of the other two Springsteen shows I have seen, his show last October at the FleetCenter had better sound and typical Springsteen energy, but lacked the Fenway-esque drama. I saw him in Sydney, Australia, which, through four power outages and atrocious sound, paled in comparison to last night. There was just something special about seeing a giant stage in centerfield with folding chairs covering the outfield.
An hour before last night’s event even started, I somehow made it to the press box. I saw the seat where Bob Ryan watches Red Sox games, and I peered into the broadcast booths. I even roamed the halls eyeing photographs of famous moments in Sox history. I had to leave though apparently you need some sort of pass to stay up there.
When the giant baseball field lights went down, the real fun started. My friend summed it up nearly perfectly: ‘I would love this show even if I didn’t know one song.’
Between his slides across the stage, ‘come-ons’ during ‘Waitin’ On a Sunny Day,’ and his amazingly ‘Dirty’ finish, Bruce was his normal self, belting out each note with his patented energy and soul. He looks like he is having so much fun when he performs.
I had infield roof box seats, with a perfect view of the stage. But I had a few moments before the show started to take in the scene. It was something I thought I would never see. I was peering down on 10,000 people covering the outfield grass. There were countless middle-aged married people wearing stunningly inappropriate clothing and getting way too drunk. The Boston skyline lit up behind empty bleachers, with the park otherwise filled to capacity.
Three hours flew by, and even songs I had never heard before sounded perfect on this balmy fall evening. Springsteen’s ‘Empty Sky,’ ‘Mary’s Place,’ and ‘Born to Run’ were my favorites, but the show included no disappointing melodies.
About midway through, I still couldn’t believe I was in Fenway Park with the lights off. The infield grass looked like the playing surface in the movie Field of Dreams, dimly lit by audio pit.
Springsteen ended with two encores, including renditions of ‘My City of Ruins,’ ‘Born in the USA,’ and a cover of the Standells’ ‘Dirty Water,’ with J. Geils Band singer and local legend Peter Wolf.
If this isn’t the year of the Red Sox, Fenway certainly saw its fair share of drama this weekend. Through the blisteringly loud sound, well-endowed women dancing on the roof of the visiting dugout and sweat-provoking three hour marathon, I found myself breathing easily: I had just witnessed history.
Andrew Hass, a senior in the College of Communication, is a former sports editor of The Daily Free Press.