Fenway Park, in Boston, is a lyric little bandbox of a ballpark. Everything is painted green and seems in curiously sharp focus, like the inside of an old-fashioned peeping-type Easter egg. It was built in 1912 and rebuilt in 1934, and offers, as do most Boston artifacts, a compromise between Man's Euclidean determinations and Nature's beguiling irregularities. So wrote John Updike in his moving tribute to Red Sox legend Ted Williams -- an appropriately pedigreed account for this oldest and most fabled of ballfields that saw its first major league game played one century ago today. As a team in flux hopes to recapture the magic with an old-school face-off against the New York
Highlanders Yankees, it's hard to imagine the soul of the Sox faced the specter of demolition not too long ago. Now legally preserved, in a sport crowded with corporate-branded superdome behemoths, Fenway abides, bursting with history, idiosyncrasy, record crowds, and occasional song. [more inside]
A former employee speaks out about what goes on at the Alcor Life Extension Foundation. Namely, the alleged treatment surrounding one of their most famous members on his way into the cryonic chamber. He has a book. They have a statement.
As soon as they get him in the grave, he'll no doubt start spinning. Here's a rather unsettling report about recently deceased baseball great Ted Williams' family fighting over the body. Cloning is mentioned. Via Salon.