I recently had the good fortune to do something I had never done before, attending both games of a doubleheader at Fenway as the Sox took on the Cardinals. It was a real “Back Then, Right Now“ moment that made me feel like a kid again, made sweeter by the Sox winning both contests and sweeping the first home series of the season.

Midway through the nightcap, I turned to my son, with whom I can easily fill a baseball game’s worth of time and then some talking about the Red Sox, and said, “Everything is better when the Red Sox are good.” It’s true. If a summer has not passed with the Red Sox pleasantly fielding a competitive roster, with the radio on in the car, and NESN casually on at home most days, then did summer even happen? Eh…not really.

While that’s true, early April games at Fenway feel nothing like summer. It wasn’t that cold over opening weekend, but this week has featured game-time temps in the 30s and some precipitation as well. This is not a surprise; these are always cold days in New England, but they are a clear marker that spring has sprung.

And if Opening Day is a Red Sox’s fan’s official spring kick-off, I am happy to present to you Passover, which is the Jewish people’s official spring kick-off; both usually arrive around the same time. And let me tell you, a cursory examination of the intersection of Red Sox and Passover can only result in the key finding that this whole thing could generate a Haggadah’s worth of content.

First of all, it’s a pilgrimage, and an ascension. Close your eyes and you might hear (above the sound of the drummer who’s always stationed at the corner of Brookline Avenue and Newbury) Shir HaMa’alot in your ears as you walk up the bridge from Kenmore and then ascend the steps from the concourse into the stadium. Sorry, not sorry; it is frequently a spiritual experience.

With that mental and spiritual preparation, once you’re inside, the seder connections are everywhere. 

  • You drink a cup/a few cups of celebratory beverages. At my rapidly-advancing age, any number of drinks over 1.1 is a bad idea, so four is just a metaphor now. Enjoy responsibly.
  • You dip your tenders/fries/nachos and eat Dippin’ Dots ice cream.
  • You tell stories to your children about Red Sox history and mythology. 
  • You break things in half (pretzels, especially).
  • You sing (or scream) songs that have been handed down from generation to generation. I can’t be the only one that sees the connection between the call-and-response of “Sweet Caroline” and the grace after meals or Psalm 114, or between the delight with which I sing Hallel at Passover and also “Mr. Brightside“ on Sunday night.
  • You taste the bitterness of defeat and reflect on suffering—or Red Sox fans of my generation, we get it, and then some. I remember 1986, I remember 2003, and I was raised on the generational traumas of 86 years of failure. That kind of baggage is so relevant to our Jewish experience.
  • You pray for the ultimate redemption. I still can’t believe the Red Sox won in 2004 and then three more times afterward, but I, and we, are always desperately chasing the next championship.

A much-longer draft of this post went into a great deal of exposition on each part of the seder and a Fenway connection, but you didn’t ask for that and I didn’t want to rush it. In truth, one could script a whole Haggadah about going to Fenway and a parallel to the Exodus from Egypt. It’s too late for this weekend, but like any true Sox fan, we can always hope for next year. Sounds like a project for 2026 to me. 

For now, enjoy your holiday, our new Jewish third baseman whose jersey I impulse-bought on Sunday, and a team that is worth rooting for.

Chag Sameach. Go Sox.

This post has been contributed by a third party. The opinions, facts and any media content are presented solely by the author, and JewishBoston assumes no responsibility for them. Want to add your voice to the conversation? Publish your own post here. MORE