But now many say it's time to pay tribute and say goodbye to the old-fashioned field squeezed among city streets. It won't happen without special feelings and fond memories for some.
"When you think of baseball, you think of Fenway Park," says Red Sox All-Star Wade Boggs. "So imagine baseball without it."
The Red Sox say that it's time to tear down the old church and build a bigger cathedral with 10,000 more seats. Petitions have been circulating outside the ballpark, but a new stadium's already in the works.
Once the third largest park in baseball, Fenway is now not only the smallest but also the oldest sports arena in America. Can Boston give up the spot that opened the week the Titanic went down, hosted Babe Ruth in the infancy of his career, was home to Ted Williams, and stood strong as Carl Yastrezemski mastered the caroms off its famed green monster?
The Boston Globe sportswriter Dan Shaughnessey has written about the ballpark and now believes it is time to write the obituary.
"It's a 1912 facility," he says. "A lot of things don't work here anymore."
Not to mention that the seats are too small and the concessions too crowded. Fenway also boasts one of the last manual scoreboards, and the guys who change numbers in the cramped space behind it say they'd like an upgrade (or at least some air conditioning).
One fan says the ballpark has a really good aura, and many say the old familiar would be missed. The Red Sox hope to break ground on the new stadium next year, but they still need state money.
This is Boston, it takes so long to do anything here, we might all be dead before there's a new Fenway," Shaughnessey says.
One thing's for sure: Fenway Park is no kid any more, so take in the legend now. No one is sure how many innings she has left.