Stadium Creep

No, “stadium creep” is not a Halloween monster, or a deranged fan, or a fan using hate speech.  It’s not a person, but an effect.  It’s the slow progression from “friendly Fenway” to a generic baseball stadium far from “America’s most beloved ballpark”.

Fenway Park has indeed crept along an unfortunate path from pure baseball toward… something else.  This progression has come in fits and starts, but it never stops.  It’s creeping along.

 

In older days

 

Fenway Park meant Pure Baseball from 1912 until… until 1976, when the first giant electronic scoreboard was installed, which could show advertising.  Wait — in the 1950s, musical entertainment was added in the form of organ music.  Wait — there was lots of painted advertising, even in 1912!  So was it ever pure?  Maybe not!

 

Once The Wall looked like this! Note loudspeaker horns above.

 

So I’ll say it was fairly pure from 1912 to 1976 and some years beyond.  The left-field wall plastered with advertising was “in your face” and intrusive, but you could get used to it (maybe). You didn’t have to look at it.  The organ music was piped (pun not intended) over the public address system so you couldn’t choose whether or not to listen to it, but it did not occur during play; just before and after the game, and between innings.  Oh, and after home runs.

 

In 1947 Tom Yawkey, owner of the Sox since 1933, eliminated the advertising on The Wall and painted it green, creating today’s Green Monster.  Almost all additional advertising was removed, one exception being the Gruen Watch sponsored clock on the auxiliary scoreboard behind the bleachers, which remained into the early 1960s.  This, then, was the era of highest baseball purity: from 1947 through 1975.

As a youngster in the 1960s and 1970s, I became aware of things other teams were doing to their ballparks.  The White Sox under owner Bill Veeck created a 130-foot wide “Monster” scoreboard which “exploded” with fireworks, pinwheels, and sound effects after home runs.  The Orioles played the bugle call “Charge!” at certain times.  The Athletics (of Kansas City) installed a giant horn that blasted after home runs.  These all were quite audible on the radio broadcasts.  These were the first forays into “baseball as spectacle”, or “let’s entertain the fans in other ways”.

Fenway stayed relatively sedate through the 1970s and into the 1980s.  Master organist John Kiley provided Fenway’s music from 1953 until 1989.  During those years, he became an integral part of Fenway.  His music was never intrusive or obnoxious, but was almost always upbeat and cheery.  Speaker technology limited its volume to comfortable levels.

Meanwhile, advertising was absent until 1976, with the exception of the Jimmy Fund sign on the roof in deep right, above Section 1.  The only visible commercial advertising was seen beyond Fenway’s walls, including the 3 Monks whiskey billboard beyond left center (replaced by the Windsor Canadian billboard in the 1970s), the neon Buck Printing Co. sign way beyond the bleachers, and of course the illuminated Cities Service cloverleaf in Kenmore Square, which was replaced with the Citgo animated neon sign in 1965.  Beginning with installation of the first electronic scoreboard after the 1975 season, advertising began returning to inside Fenway Park itself.  From then until now, the amount of advertising has been increasing incrementally every year.

The modern age — post-1990

Loss of purity has happened in three basic ways:  more intrusive advertising, louder sounds played far more frequently, and more cheerleading.

Advertising is probably the most unavoidable of these three things.  In today’s world, we are assaulted with advertising everywhere.  But there are different forms and types of advertising.  At the modest end of the scale are unilluminated signs, for example the W.B. Mason sign on the Monster. It’s similar to early 20th century advertising, and though it’s large, we get used to it.  It’s just “there”.  Like all the other painted signage, such as that on the short walls ringing the playing surface, it fades into the background of our minds.

Illuminated signage is more intrusive. The Gulf sign on the wall in Section 33, painted on the brick wall when first installed, was replaced with a mounted 3-D sign in 2019; it is brightly lit indirectly.  The Coca-Cola, Bank of America, and Samuel Adams signs are internally lit and enormous.  These are impossible to ignore, but like the old Buck Printing and current Citgo signs, become part of the landscape, and intrude on our experience minimally.

The 2019 Gulf sign in deep left.

 

But what’s worse are the advertisements on the videoboards that move, flash, or both.  Those intrude on our experience a lot more than passive signage.  The annoyance factor increases with the steady increase of square footage of videoboards in the park.  Having all the signage show the same moving ads is the worst.  At least the ads don’t create a 360 degree panorama as they do at some parks.

Those video boards

The enormous videoboards at Fenway had their origin in 1976. The first centerfield scoreboard, 40 by 24 feet, mainly showed dot-matrix text using ordinary light bulbs, but it had capability of showing video clips and ads. At first it created controversy, as fans didn’t like the idea of tinkering with Fenway. But it became a fan favorite, and paved the way for bigger and better boards.

The 1976 scoreboard. Saltalamacchia's name would not have fit.

As technology changed, the video square footage crept along a course to where it is today.  1988 brought color to the main board, and that was replaced by today’s high definition screen in 2012.  The Bank of America and first New Balance boards were installed (need year), and the right field terrace board replaced a large Cumberland Farms sign in 20== [date needed].  Along the baselines, the lower fascia was given four strips of video in the early 2000s , and those were supplemented by more strips on the upper fascia in 2015.  These little strips at first were low-def dot-matrix types, but were replaced with high-def color.

Early dot-matrix boards on lower fascia

 

2016 LED boards on both fascias

Providing baseball information on these strips is welcome to this fan, but the strips can be not only used but abused.  Other parks realized, “Hey, we can do light shows with those ribbons; let’s create spectacular effects and wow the fans!”  Bizarre undulating patterns were invented for them, along with comic animation, sound-level-meter mimicking, repeated words, cheerleading prompts, and flashing celebrations.  All that is most unpleasant unless you’re a video engineer.  Thankfully, most of that didn’t happen at Fenway.  But snippets of that have crept in.

Unpleasant light displays on the fascia boards.

 

I did not like seeing all of Fenway’s videoboards, large and small, coordinate themselves in a mass display. The first such use of special effects that I remember was when Craig Kimbrel was called in from the bullpen, and the boards all showed his name and a backdrop of flames.  Supposedly that was supposed to suggest how hot he was, but a fan next to me said “Kimbrel is about to go down in flames again!”. Coordinated video assault (all screens synchronized) has increased since then.  One of the worst ways is to create a fake sound level meter as a set of moving bars.  This does seem like trying to be like other parks, and is, to me, decidedly un-Fenwaylike.

Craig Kimbrel about to go down in flames?

Sound bar effects are unpleasant.

The sound onslaught

One great loss of baseball purity has been caused by louder sounds, different sounds, and more frequent sounds dished out to the fans.

The first Fenway loudspeakers were small and mounted above the fans, below the roof.  There was limited coverage in the box seats and bleachers.  In the 1940s there were speaker horns above The Wall.  In the late 1960s [date needed], an attempt was made to create big, booming sound by installing an enormous speaker array in the leftmost “garage door” in center field, now the Bleacher Bar viewing window.  That was not too successful, as time delays of sound from there conflicted with other speakers creating an echo effect.  What we have now is a multitude of powerful black speakers mounted everywhere, aimed at all seating areas.  There is little escape from them.

One of the most common complaints I have heard from fans I sit next to is that the speaker volume is much too high.  It is hard to chat with people between innings because of those speakers.  That’s simple science; the decibel levels will be checked this year and we’ll see just how loud they are.

The kind of sound has changed a lot, from simple PA announcements and organ music to an endless variety of music and sound effects, called up instantly from the control room.  Recorded music began supplanting the organ at about the time legendary organist John Kiley retired in 1989.  Each genre of music has its fans, from classic soft rock and folk to driving hip-hop, and though I’m old-fashioned in musical taste, I don’t quibble about songs.

 
What I don’t like is that the songs are played at every moment, from well before the game to many minutes after. This musical pervasiveness has crept into Fenway gradually.  Walk-up songs for batters began in the mid 1990s, as did entering songs for pitchers.  In the early 20th century, celebratory sounds began to be played after Sox players reached base.  In about 2016, a “woo woo” sound began to be played after opponents struck out. (Joe Castiglione has said repeatedly that “they’re just copying the Yankees”, who have a high pitched four-note strikeout phrase).  In 2021, sounds began after opponents made outs other than strikeouts.  And in late 2021, we first heard sounds during opponent at-bats when the count reached two strikes.

Many of the new sounds are not musical songs, but little bits of songs or drum tracks that last only a few seconds.  They are completely unnecessary and intrusive.  Some bits have rhythms that try to get fans to clap, and so are trending into the realm of cheerleading, an area of formerly virgin territory in our ballpark.

 

This trend is very annoying.  Fenway is playing catch-up to stadiums like Tropicana Field, where there are very unpleasant noises in the midst of almost every home at-bat and many of the opponents’.

 

Cheerleading

 

Stadiums, it seems obvious, play sound effects and music to try to excite fans.  Sometimes that’s supplemented with video imploring fans to “Make some noise!”  Have you attended other parks to see if that works?  It doesn’t.  At best, these noises elicit a few words called out or a few claps.  Usually they are completely ignored.  It is as if the cheerleading is supplied by the park, so the fans don’t have to do it.  The sound assortment remains the same, whether the team is way ahead, in a close game, or way behind.  What does that say?  It takes initiative away from the fans, and reduces the impact of the fans’ actual cheers.  It’s management saying “we think the fans should get more excited at this moment, so let’s play something to do that.”

Most visitors to Fenway know that we have very dedicated and passionate fans here, who know perfectly well when to cheer without being told.  Even in the mid 1960s, when we had poorly performing teams, fans spontaneously cheered when the mood struck.  In those days, there were two ways of expressing “Let’s get something going!” besides yelling.  One was steady rhythmic clapping, that kept a constant tempo over the course of several pitches, unlike today when it gradually speeds up until it dissolves in randomness.  The other was a chant that could also last a long time: “We want a hit! We want a hit!”.

Today’s equivalent is “Let’s go Red Sox! Clap, clap, clapclapclap!”  But in 2021, those cheers were sometimes interrupted by the artificial “two strike” noise.  The rolling low roar of “the wave” can be overtopped by the “opponent made an out” noise. The natural cheering of fans (and the rare booing) is a spontaneous, oprganic reaction to the game.  Why interfere with it?  Why try to orchestrate it? Why not just let it happen, as was done for over a century?  The fans can get excited and loud all by themselves!

In summary, there are many ways in which Fenway Park has become a very different place since the 1960s. Some have been very positive, like the expansion of seating, and the generous supplying of baseball information on the scoreboards.  Some have reflected general societal change, like the evolving music options. But some have been downright annoying.  I hope the painful volume level of the speakers can be adjusted, and the cheerleading attempts ended. 

 The worst is yet to come

 

As we look forward, what might we expect if Fenway fully embraces the “giant stadium” look and feel?  How about:

• video advertising on the Green Monster itself.  If the wall was totally plastered in advertising (except for the scoreboard) in the early years, why not cover the wall with video panels? Imagine how much money could be raised by putting up truly spectacular, Times-Square-worthy signage?  It could be set to green while the game is played, but then all flashing and moving advertising between innings and before and after games.  But do we fans want that?  No!

• Installing digitized strobe lighting in all the light towers, so that all those individual lights could be synchronized to produce truly spectacular light shows after home runs, after victories, and even between innings.  Blindingly bright lights are already seen at Fenway concerts, but those are taken down after the shows.  And why not add laser lights streaming around?  And how about replacing the light towers with those “toothbrush” style towers seen in Cleveland and other parks?  But do we fans want any of this?  No!

• Installing a video ribbon that completely encircles the park.  It could go all around the fascia below the suite level, across the area where the retired numbers are posted (those would be moved), across the Truly Terrace, then in a newly installed strip below the big main videoboard, then downward passing underneath the centerfield camera balcony, then along the top of the Monster.  Then more continuously moving advertising could encircle us, and we could much better be told when to cheer and when to celebrate.  Many parks do this… why not us?  But do we fans want to ever see this?  No!

• Speaking of cheering, we don’t have flashing signs now telling us when to make noise, when to clap, when to yell, when to stand.  Why not?  It would be a simple matter to create the video and sound effects to do all that.  Every other park does, so why not us?  But do we fans want that?  No!

• Adding to the noise and sound effects during the game, during at-bats and between batters.  We already do that, but why not add bugle calls, rhythmic clapping, call-and-response cheers, bump-bump-bump-bump organ chords?  Why not noises to celebrate Sox batters taking pitches for a ball?  Again, we have the technology to imitate Tropicana Field and all the others.  But do we fans want that?  No!

• Adding more entertainment between innings.  Other stadiums have character races around the warning track, like the Nationals have racing presidents. Other stadiums have “kiss cams”.  Why not us?  But do we fans want these?  No!

I’ve visited all of the other current MLB ballparks, except Globe Life Field in Texas, which I will visit this year.  Everywhere I go I feel thankful that we just don’t do some of the things done elsewhere.  We are assaulted in our ears and eyes, but not nearly so annoyingly as in other parks.  Sox fans know perfectly well when to cheer.  We put up with the unfortunate slow progression from pure baseball to baseball-themed spectacle, since we have no choice.  Actually we do have a choice: we can choose not to attend.  Maybe there is a link between lowered attendance and lowered baseball purity at Fenway?

 

Just a few years ago, Fenway Park was the ONLY ballpark in which the fans were never told when to cheer.  It used to be the ONLY ballpark with no sound effects played during an at-bat, and no sounds played between opponent batters.  Now those points of pride have been lost.  We can only hope that further creep along the path toward the generic stadium experience happens as slowly as possible, if it can’t be reversed.  Let’s keep the focus baseball, not spectacle.

 

Please, Marlins fans! We can't hear you!

Minute Maid Park detracts from the experience with an encircling ribbon.