Tufts Blogs

Some things are truly unique to Boston. Whether it be Dunkin, being upset about the MBTA, or wearing a winter coat in May (insert eye roll), this area has a few characteristics that cannot be replicated elsewhere. One such Boston institution is Marathon Monday, also known as Patriots’ Day, and, affectionately, “MarMon.” On the third Monday of April each year, the Boston Marathon is run. The day is a public holiday, with thousands flocking to the city to participate in the competition or to just enjoy the festivities. Schools, roads, and T stops are shut down, and Tufts has no classes on the date. 

While the marathon’s course does not run through Tufts, there are plenty of opportunities to catch a glimpse of the action. Many students make the trip to Boston College, near the famous “Heartbreak Hill,” to watch the race. Still more trek to Copley Square in the heart of Boston to see the jubilant racers cross the finish line. 

In my view, the best part about Patriots’ Day, besides the cancellation of classes, is the fact that the Boston Red Sox play at 11:00 that morning. Each year since 1959, the Sox have taken the field while some are still sipping their morning coffee. Fenway Park, located near Kenmore Square, is right along the marathon route and blocks away from the finish line at Copley. 

Growing up as a Red Sox fan in New Jersey, I would often miss the game, due to being in school during its playing. Thus, when I came to Tufts, I made sure to pencil in attending the Marathon Monday game on my bucket list. 

With that goal in mind, I set out with my friend Zach at 9:15 in the morning on Monday, April 21 catch the Sox take on the Chicago White Sox during that morning’s game. While typically, the Green Line T from Medford-Tufts to Kenmore takes around 45 minutes, we felt that we should leave early to beat the MarMon rush. 

Our planning was immediately rewarded, as hundreds of travelers packed into the train at the first stop, pushing against one another like a can of sardines. Along the way, we stopped at Government Center to change to the “C” train, as the “E” train that originated at Tufts would not travel to Kenmore. By the time we got off the T at Kenmore, first pitch was just under 10 minutes away. 

As we exited the station, the pandemonium of Boston during the marathon became ever more apparent. Our bags were checked on the way off the train, and the marathon course was visible in Kenmore Square. We stopped for a moment to watch some of the athletes pass by, before making the trek across the David Ortiz Bridge toward Fenway.

I’ve been to Fenway in nearly every circumstance available, from meaningless September day games to Game 2 of the 2018 World Series. Still, I’ve never seen anything like Fenway on Patriots’ Day. An excited, giddy atmosphere dominated the area, with fans basking in one of the first nice Spring days and the optimism that dominates the nascent stages of each baseball season. 

We quickly found our seats along the first-base line, just in time for the national anthem and the ceremonial first pitch. The pregame festivities not only honored those running the marathon that day, but also the first responders and those who lost their lives during the tragic Boston Marathon Bombings 12 years ago. 

The game itself was exhilarating as a Red Sox fan. Walker Buehler struck out nine batters, while a home run from Rob Refsnyder and clutch hits from Trevor Story and Kristian Campbell saw the Red Sox cruise to a 4-2 victory. 

Hearing “Dirty Water” blast over the Fenway loudspeakers at the game’s conclusion, indicating a win, was the perfect culmination to MarMon. Following the final out, Zach and I went to the Museum of Fine Arts Green Line stop, as opposed to Kenmore, beating the traffic and hopping on a direct “E” Line to Tufts. 

As we gazed out at the sparkling Fens and Northeastern University’s campus on the way back to Tufts, I felt satisfied with having checked another box on my New England bucket list. While I may not have run the actual marathon, nor thrown tea off a ship in Boston Harbor, or shouted “the British are coming!” while riding a horse, I can forever say I attended the year’s most special game in what is, in the words of David Ortiz, “our [blank] city” (you can fill in the rest).  

Photo Credit: Max Druckman