“Fenway Park, in Boston, is a lyric little bandbox of a ballpark,” is how John Updike famously started his 1960 New Yorker article about the great Boston Red Sox slugger Ted Williams. “Everything is painted green and seems in curiously sharp focus, like the inside of an old-fashioned peeping-type Easter egg.” But what would Updike and Williams think of the Fenway Park of 2012 and would they be surprised that it’s barely evolved over the years? For many, the charm of the Fens is in its resolute stubbornness to not roll with the times (or even start from scratch, in the vein of so many modern ballparks). But it would be remiss to not acknowledge the terrible sight lines and crumbling structure that greets guests. Plenty of the seats are cramped (hey, people were smaller in 1912), so beer spillages aren’t uncommon, and don’t even get people started on trying to drive to the stadium. If it rains, water from the upper deck can leak onto the seats below. But here’s the thing: after finally breaking that World Series curse, Sox fans (of which yours truly is one) will take Fenway Park just the way it is for the rest of our days.