Friday, December 6, 2013
By Edward D. Murphy firstname.lastname@example.org
Patricia Kennedy sits in her living room Thursday next to where her late husband, James, often watched his beloved Red Sox play baseball. He died Tuesday, so the family placed the jersey there for Wednesday’s game.
Gabe Souza/Staff Photographer
James Kennedy Sr.
Patricia Kennedy spent Wednesday night doing the same thing as many other Mainers: watching the Boston Red Sox win the World Series at Fenway Park for the first time since 1918.
It was the first Red Sox game in years that she didn’t watch with her husband, James Kennedy Sr. He died of cancer Tuesday, after watching the Sox take the series lead, three games to two, over the St. Louis Cardinals.
His nurses at Maine Medical Center were told there were two firm rules for caring for him: Leave his shaker of black pepper handy – “he likes it on everything,” his son Kirk Kennedy said – and make sure the game is on TV.
On Monday night, he said, they sat at his father’s bedside in the hospital and gave him a play-by-play of Game 5, not sure how much he heard.
But even as he was dying, “he knew they won,” Kirk Kennedy said. “We put him to bed after the game.”
On Wednesday night, James Kennedy’s family draped a Red Sox jersey over the back of his favorite recliner in his home in South Portland and put the headphones he used to listen to games on the seat. Patricia said she made sure to watch the series-clinching game.
She said the game was “great” and she knew that, somewhere, James was happy.
The Kennedys were among the fans whose loss loomed a little larger this week, as they mourned citizens of Red Sox Nation who didn’t get to see their beloved team’s championship.
Antonio Bifulco adored his wife and children – and the Red Sox – with seemingly equal passion. He lived long enough to see his team capture two World Series titles, in 2004 and 2007, before he died in August at the age of 80.
Wednesday night, when the Sox completed their worst-to-first turnaround from a dismal 2012, was a bittersweet moment for Lena Brooks, who remembers going to games at Fenway Park with her father and gathering in their basement to listen on the radio in the days before cable television put every game on the air.
“When they scored, he would jump up,” Brooks said Thursday. “It was a low ceiling, and one time he almost broke his hand because he hit it so hard on the ceiling.”
When he was growing up in Italy, Bifulco played soccer, not baseball. His favorite hobbies were foraging for wild mushrooms and making wine.
At his funeral, his three loves were represented. There were mushrooms. There was wine. And there were the Red Sox, in the form of a wreath with the team’s logo and pennants. His favorite Sox jacket was there during the visitation and the funeral, Brooks said.
It’s common for sports to be a focal point in families and communities, and it’s not surprising that people use sporting events to create deeper connections, even with those who have died, said Jay Coakley, a professor emeritus of sociology at the University of Colorado.
Sports creates “a communal sense, and we always kind of long for community – it’s in our DNA,” Coakley said. “We’re an individualistic society, but it’s nice to be able to unite around something that is not contentious. Sports teams provide that relatively non-contentious communal focus.”
Antonio Bifulco and James Kennedy got to see their team win titles in 2004 and 2007.
Kathy McInnis-Misenor said her family still mourns an uncle, Kenneth “Bobby” Murphy, who didn’t live long enough to see the victory in 2004, when the Red Sox beat the Cardinals and ended an 86-year championship drought.
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Kathy McInnis-Misenor of Saco holds a baseball given to her mother and father by the Boston Red Sox on their 60th “diamond” wedding anniversary.
John Ewing/Staff Photographer
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When Tony Bifulco died in August, his family wanted items at his funeral to reflect his passions, so they had wild mushrooms like the ones Bifulco foraged, his homemade wine and a wreath reflecting his love of the Red Sox, which began shortly after he emigrated from Italy to the U.S. in the late 1950s.