My life’s tagline has always been, “would rather be at Fenway” and when the chance came along to make that a reality, I jumped on it. It’s sort of strange, really, the strong connection that I seem to have with a place that up until this season, I had barely stepped into. But, there’s just something about Fenway that brings me a sense of comfort and connects me to things that completely define me as a person.
It was a snowy day in February when I got the voicemail that would set the tone for 2015. The message was from the Red Sox, and they were offering me a staff position for the upcoming season. I knew it was going to be a lot working two jobs, but I called back immediately. I could barely make out an audible “thanks” before I hung up the phone and accepted what has been my dream job for the last decade.
From there, it was a waiting game. As, each day brought me closer and closer to the start of the season, my excitement grew knowing that the boys of summer would be back, and that all would be right with the world again. I walked into Fenway on opening day and for a moment it felt like time had stopped. I breathed in the warm spring air, and all of a sudden I was 13 again – racing up and down the concourse with my dad, trying to take in every sight, sound and smell of a place I had imagined for so long. Then just like that, I was 15 – on the phone with him, tears streaming down my face as the 2004 team clenched the World Series. Finally, I was 16 – saying my hardest goodbye to my best friend and teacher of all things baseball. He’d lost his long, hard fight against cancer.
As I took those next few steps into the concourse, I knew he was right there with me. This season wasn’t the most ideal for the Red Sox. There were hardships coming from all sides – something we’ve all felt at one point or another. But, I stuck it out and backed those boys though every last pitch. It’s what my dad would’ve wanted me to do. Red Sox Nation endured, and when Coach Farrell was faced with the same disease that affects so many of us, we put all of our strength behind him. It’s what you do. Knowing he’s ready to come back next season and fight, makes me think of my dad, who with every time he was told “you won’t make it” he did.
I can’t wait to walk into that concourse again.
I like the idea of believing in something bigger than yourself (which is probably what made me become a red sox fan in the first place). It takes a great sense of faith, hope and trust. That’s why I go into every season thinking we’re making it to the World Series. If you don’t have faith, you may as well have nothing.
And while life doesn’t always go the way you want it (much like a baseball season) it’s that little spark of faith that keeps you going.
It’s those little memories of those who have shaped you, and whether they are still here or gone, you keep them close to your heart.
This is why I am going bald for the day – in hopes that my story will inspire others to find the connections that help them heal.
And to remind everyone to never lose faith.
Susie Korzec is a marketing administrator at the Briar Group, Red Sox Fan Club Representative, and 2105 Be Bold, Be Bald! participant. On October 16th, Susie will put vanity aside and go bald to raise money for the Jimmy Fund and to stand in solidarity with those affected by cancer across the country. To sponsor Susie and #BeBold against cancer, click here.