BOSTON — The crack of the bat, the roar of the crowd, the love it/hate it chorus of "Sweet Caroline": the experience of a Sox home game is as much aural as visual. And some of us will always now associate the Dropkick Murphys with an Irish-dancing, World Series–winning closing pitcher. We go behind the Green Monster to meet the people who make the musical magic happen: DJ TJ Connelly and organist Josh Kantor.
Welcome to Fenway Park, baseball’s oldest Major League ballpark. Beneath the beep of the ticket scanners, you can hear the click of Fenway’s signature turnstiles.
On Yawkey Way, people try to grab your attention from all different directions. “Right here, guys. What do you need, guys? Step right up, who’s next? Come right over, guys!”
Are you hungry? Enthusiastic vendors shout from their concession stands: “Sausage, hot dog, chicken, steak guys, step right up. Who’s up next?”
Whether you’re outside or inside the park, sounds make up the Fenway experience.
The DJ
“Here we have the control room, where we make the rock 'n' roll,” said TJ Connelly, the music director for Fenway Park. He’s the guy who picks the tunes at the game.
“We’re really lucky here because Fenway is so unique,” Connelly said. “I mean, we play different music in this ballpark than almost any other sports arena. We get to sort of reflect the character of the ballpark by covering stuff from 100 years ago and stuff from today.”
Connelly watches the game unfold from his perch near the press box.
“Part of the reason I am lucky enough to get to sit where I get to sit here is that once the batter approaches the batting circle there, once they turn toward the plate, you have to turn down the music,” said Connelly.
When he’s not looking out the window, Connelly is staring at his computer screen, where icons list the situationals — every potential play that might happen on the field.
“For anything that happens in the game, we have a set of music that goes with it,” said Connelly. “It only happens three or four times a year, but every once in a while we score 12 runs in a game, and as a childhood fan of 'Sesame Street,' we play the Pointer Sisters.”
The computer program narrows down Connelly’s choices, but he still has to react quickly, making subjective decisions on the fly. “One of my personal favorites is in the event that someone walks in a run — on the opposing team obviously — just throw on 'Free Ride,'" he said.
But where does he get the music?
“From everywhere,” said Connelly. “I consult with my dad a lot because he represents somewhat of our regular season ticket demographic.”
And then there’s always the players, who pick their own “walk-up” music.
“Different guys pick different things,” Connelly said. “I couldn’t tell you what makes a player pick a given song.”
For example, David Ortiz likes reggaeton and hip-hop. But there’s no sound that compares to when Big Papi hits a home run!
The organist
While Connelly relies on mp3s, another sound of Fenway dates back to the '50s: the organ music, which comes from a Yamaha Electone AR-100 organ.
“The organ is identified with being part of a long tradition in baseball in people’s minds and so I’m trying to play into that history,” said Josh Kantor, Fenway Park organist.
Kantor and his organ are tucked in the corner of the State Street Pavilion on level four behind home plate. Through his headset, he collaborates with Connelly on what to play. It’s no accident when old sounds and new ones meet seamlessly.
“We coordinate pretty heavily,” said Connelly. “If I know he has a great version of a song I’m not going to go play the recorded version of it.”
Connelly and Kantor are essential to our Fenway experience. But even they know that what really makes Fenway sound like Fenway are the fans.
“It’s really amazing to be up here and to hear a giant cheer go through the crowd for a home run or a big play and people gasp for a diving catch and that sort of thing,” said Kantor. “It’s crazy.”
“Sweet Caroline,” a Boston Red Sox game tradition, stirs up the crowd every time.
“Everybody has a different opinion on 'Sweet Caroline,'” said Kantor. “But it's pretty great to get to hear 40,000 people that will sing along together.”
“Sweet Caroline” and the crack of the bat. A pitch that hits the glove so hard you can hear it from the stands. The singing and cheering of loyal fans. Fenway sounds like baseball.
> > Read and listen to more stories for Fenway's 100th anniversary
