Parochial politics
Rolling over the Fenway is politically easy when its citizens don't vote
Within the city of Boston, there are three places a new baseball park could be
built: the site of the city's old incinerator at South Bay, the waterfront, and
in the Fenway, near the site of the current park. When the Red Sox announced
early last year that they wanted to build a new park, there was no public
debate over which location would be best. It was simply announced, months
later, that the new park would be built in the Fenway. We now know that Sox CEO
John Harrington wanted to build on the waterfront but Mayor Tom Menino directed
him to come up with a plan in the Fenway. During what little public debate
there's been on the matter since, such as the June 19 city-council hearing on
the Sox' plan, mayoral aides and Boston Redevelopment Authority officials have
blithely dismissed the waterfront and the site of the old incinerator as
unsuitable locations.
Why? Although the site of the city's old incinerator at South Bay is ripe for
redevelopment and that neighborhood is more industrial than residential, city
officials say it won't work. The Sox want to build on 15 acres. The footprint
of the old incinerator at South Bay is just 3.3 acres. Acquiring the additional
acreage at South Bay would disrupt the businesses in the area; much of the
food-distribution business in the city is located there. City officials say it
wouldn't be practical or wise to disrupt this business. In addition, they note
that there isn't enough public transportation in the area to get fans to and
from the games.
The waterfront, like South Bay, is not heavily residential, despite its
proximity to South Boston. There's plenty of developable space that could be
used without dislocating many local businesses. But the waterfront, like South
Bay, has little public transportation in place. In addition, city officials
believe that the South Boston neighborhood, located less than a mile from the
waterfront, couldn't simultaneously accommodate more than one major
construction project. Given that the city's new convention center is being
built on the waterfront, that eliminates the possibility of developing a new
baseball park for the Red Sox there. Which leaves the Fenway.
The Fenway already has two T stops to get fans to and from the games. But, like
South Bay, it's home to a large business that affects the public: four years
ago, the US Postal Service built a delivery annex on Boylston Street. Under the
Sox' current plan, this would have to move. More than 30 other businesses,
including the offices of the Boston Phoenix, a pathology lab for Harvard
Vanguard, several restaurants, a doctor's office, and a gas station, would be
forced to relocate.
So why is the crowded, bustling, heavily residential Fenway neighborhood deemed
a better location for a new ballpark than the comparatively deserted
waterfront? The area is undergoing a development boom the likes of which hasn't
been seen in many years: there's the Landmark Center on Brookline Avenue;
across the street from that, a hotel and housing complex is in the works; a
European-style hotel is being built in Kenmore Square; and nearby in the Back
Bay, there's the massive Millennium Place project. Is the Fenway really the
best place to build a new ballpark?
Well, there's one last variable that city officials haven't brought up, but we
will: voting statistics. In 1997, Menino received 48,323 votes out of 48,342
cast citywide -- 10,170 voters went to the polls in South Boston that election;
just 3612 bothered to pick up a ballot in the Fenway and Back Bay. In 1993, in
a tight contest that saw eight candidates slug it out in the primary, Menino
won the final election with 74,448 votes out of 115,513 cast. Again, South
Boston sent considerably more people to the polls than the Fenway and Back Bay:
17,302 versus 7706.
Given that, Menino's decision to direct Harrington to build in the Fenway makes
sense. Why risk offending the community that actually sends politicians to
office in this city? But Menino is putting his future ahead of the city's. It
simply makes no sense to steer development away from an area of the city that
needs it and toward a neighborhood that's close to being overwhelmed with it.
It's difficult to think of another example in which one neighborhood has been
coddled, like a favorite child, over the rest of the city. Oh, wait a minute,
there was Menino's decision to approve a deal that not only directed
51 percent of the linkage funds generated by the convention-center project
to South Boston but also gave that neighborhood the authority to further
negotiate with developers for "community benefits."
It's hard to predict exactly how these sorts of decisions will affect the city
in the long term. Politicians have always made decisions with one eye on the
voting stats. But in the past 50 years, perhaps no other neighborhood has been
favored over every other in the way that South Boston has been for the past
two. And it's hard to believe that this practice, if continued, won't divide
the city in ways that we haven't seen in decades.
We can lament Menino's shameless pandering. We can point out how unfair it is.
But unless voters outside South Boston start electing people to office, it's
not going to change. If you aren't registered to vote, you can change that by
downloading a voter-registration form from www.election.com.
What do you think? Send an e-mail to letters[a]phx.com.