Patriots' Day 2024

I have always loved Patriots' Day, and I can't say why any better than I did ten years ago when I wrote this post. 

A big part of my affection for Patriots' Day is that the Red Sox always play at home, and have an early (11 a.m.) start time. One of my favorite things to do is get tickets for that game, make my way out to Fenway - threading my way through growing Boston Marathon crowds and the security checkpoint (instituted post the 2013 terrorist bombing), seeing the wheelchair race leaders speeding through Kenore Square - and then making my way back home, fingers crossed after a good game.

Alas, good games have been in short supply of late in Red Sox Nation, and ownership is increasingly and royally pissing me and a whole raft of other lifers off. The final straw came when, after yet another sub .500, last place season, they had the colossal nerve to raise prices.

So getting Patriots' Day tickets this year was a big NFW. And I'm mad at the Red Sox for making this the case. (Thanks for nothing, Red Sox owner John Henry.)

Nonetheless, I hope it's a beautiful day for a ball game and the Marathon.

I'll work my shift at St. Francis House, then - as long as the weather is reasonably good - I'll wander around taking in the sights: the runners, the Swan Boats, the tourists, the buds on the trees. Maybe I'll even make myself a sausage-and-peppers sub to make up for not getting one at Fenway. Maybe I'll top it off with some Cracker Jack, maybe even a Sports Bar. (Sports Bars are a not particularly good waxy chocolate covered slab of vanilla ice cream. I'll indulge if I can find somewhere to buy a single bar. They're definitely not worth buying an entire boxfull, unless I can find someone to unload them off on.)

And somewhere along the line, I will celebrate by reciting one of the few poems I know by heart, Ralph Waldo Emerson's Concord Hymn, which commemorates the Battle of Lexington and Concord, which ignited the American Revolution. 

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood
And fired the shot heard round the world.

The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
And Time the ruined bridge has swept
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.*

On this green bank, by this soft stream,
We set today a votive stone;
That memory may their deed redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

Spirit, that made those heroes dare
To die, and leave their children free,
Bid Time and Nature gently spare
The shaft we raise to them and thee.

Happy Patriots' Day to all who celebrate. (And my sympathies to those who don't.)

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*Obviously, the current bridge is a replica.